In the abbey Xulai kept to the plan and set out toward the stables to go practice her horsemanship with Flaxen. As she turned into one of the corridors that led to the stables, she encountered Derris, the guide. “That fellow, the dyer, he left something for you. Told me to invite you down to get it this morning.”
“I was going down to the stables anyhow,” said Xulai, wondering a little at this oddity. “I need to exercise my horse before school.”
“Well then,” he said, leading the way. “There’s a shortcut through here. It’ll save you some time.” He led her through a couple of doors into a long, empty, and silent corridor.
She didn’t see the sack that came down over her head and body and only smelled the terrible smell for one conscious moment before her mind went utterly blank. In that moment, however, she heard Derris asking, in his cocky voice, “Twelve gold pieces, wasn’t it?”
And Jenger’s voice: “Well, since you’ve already shown me the secret way out, here’s your pay, boy.” Then there was a stifled cry, followed by Jenger’s quiet laughter.
When she next knew anything, she was riding a horse, backward. It took her a moment to realize she was tied on Jenger’s back, a rope around her arms, another around her hips, a third around her legs. The sack that covered her prevented her seeing anything, but it did let the air through so she could breathe. A tiny, cold nose touched her cheek.
“Fisher,” she breathed.
The nose moved up and down, a nod.
“Can you get out of here?”
Another nod.
“Find Abasio and tell him what happened. Or . . . maybe we should wait until we get where we’re going so he’ll know where—”
“I can find you anywhere,” breathed Fisher. “I’m part of you. I always know where you are.” He slipped down her body, between her feet, found the small hole left when the drawstring was pulled closed, and slipped away.
Evidently his going startled the horse, for it shied to one side. Jenger cursed. “Damned nag. Keep on the path or you’ll have both of us into a drift up to our necks.”
She could see some light through the sack, not much. He must have carried her out of the abbey in this sack. She had done nothing, nothing to defend herself! She had been taken totally by surprise. Precious Wind would be ashamed of her. Her eyes filled at the disgrace of it, and she turned her head to wipe the tears against her shoulder. As she did so, the light dimmed. Straight ahead and up a little was brightest. Either before or after noon. Time would tell. As it did. The light decreased as they went on: she was no longer facing it. They were headed west.
Xulai tried to do what she should have done when she met Derris. She should have been alert, ready for anything. Right now that meant staying motionless. This did not seem to surprise her captor. Perhaps whatever he had used to make her unconscious was supposed to go on acting for some time. In fact, it was still acting, for she was vaguely aware that being fearful would be more suitable than being disinterested and very sleepy. Fear, however, refused to materialize. So she told herself she would wait it out and did not fight the drowsiness that slid her into sleep once more.
At the abbey, when Xulai didn’t show up at the school, someone was sent to inquire. During the ensuing search, Derris’s body was found. The houses behind the abbey were searched. Oldwife told them what Xulai had been wearing: her riding clothes, a split skirt, a jacket, boots. Oldwife had no reason to think of counting underwear, shoes, or cloaks. Bear made his presence loudly known everywhere, looking in corners, on roofs, in unlikely places others might have missed. Precious Wind watched him out of the corner of her eye. Something in his activity felt like pretense, as though he were acting. And yet, when he heard Xulai was gone, he had been truly surprised. She did not like any of it, not Bear’s announced intention of leaving them, not this oddness in his manner, not his talk of the bride-price he had to raise before he could marry.
Had he planned this to happen? Had someone paid him to let it happen? She thought not. He had seemed truly surprised when he heard she was gone, so he had not planned it, or, more likely, had not planned it to happen yet!
“It’s possible she decided to go on to Merhaven by herself,” he declared at the end of the day.
“No,” cried Oldwife. “That is not possible. She would not have left us without a word.”
“She spoke to me once of doing just that,” said Bear. “Even though it may seem unlikely, I’m going to ride south. There are plenty of others searching here.”
They argued, Oldwife and Nettie Lean positive that Xulai would have done nothing of the kind, positive that the murder of the young guide showed she had been abducted.
“It shows only that abduction may have been attempted,” said Bear. “Such an attempt would be the very thing that would push her onto the road herself, to get away from whoever it is.”
“Without her horse?” cried Precious Wind in exasperation. “You’re saying she went on foot?”
“It’s easier to hide without a horse,” said Bear. “We taught her that! In any case, it will do no harm to check. If I don’t find her in a few days, I’ll return.”
This last statement was certainly false. He had no intention of returning. Precious Wind was convinced he had merely found a convenient argument for doing what he had intended to do all along, but she said nothing. Saying anything would only put her in danger and do nothing to help Xulai. Better to let him think he was above suspicion.
Early
