Blood of the Fold

Chapter 28

She blinked as she looked down the length of the rusty sword held at her face. The point was no more than an inch away.

“Really, is this necessary? I told you that you could steal what you wanted and we wouldn’t do anything to stop you, but I have to tell you that you’re the third band of dangerous outlaws who have robbed us in the last couple of weeks, and we’ve nothing of value left.”

By the way the lad’s hand was shaking, he didn’t look to be very practiced at his craft. By the way his skin clung to his bones, he didn’t look to be very successful at it, either.

“Be quiet!” He snuck a look in the direction of his companion. “Have you found anything?”

The second young outlaw, squatting among the packs in the snow, and as thin as the first, darted glances around at the darkening woods to each side of the little-traveled road. He checked behind, to the bend in the road not far away where it vanished behind a screen of snow-crusted fir trees. In the center of the bend, just before the road vanished, was a bridge over a stream still rushing despite the fact it was winter. “No. Just old clothes and junk. No bacon, not even any bread.”

The first danced back and forth on the balls of his feet, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. He brought his other hand up to the hilt to help hold the weight of the poorly made sword. “You look well fed. What do you two eat, old woman! Snow?”

She folded her hands against her belt as she sighed. She was tiring of this. “We work for our food as we go. You should try it. Work, I mean.”

“Yeah? It’s winter, old woman, in case you hadn’t noticed. There’s no work. Last autumn the army took our stores. My parents don’t have anything to get them through the winter.”

“I’m sorry, son. Perhaps . . .”

“Hey! What’s this, old man?” He had his finger through the dull silver collar. He gave it a yank. “How do you get this off? Answer me!”

“I told you,” she said, avoiding the silent fury of the wizard’s blue eyes, “my brother is deaf and dumb. He doesn’t understand your words, and he can’t answer them.”

“Deaf and dumb? Then you tell me, how do you get this thing off?”

“It’s just an iron memento that was welded on long ago. It’s worthless.”

A hand came off the sword as her assailant leaned warily toward her and with a finger lifted her cape aside. “What’s this? A purse! I found her purse!” He yanked the heavy bag of gold coins from her belt. “It must be full a gold!”

She chuckled. “I’m afraid its just a bag of hard biscuits. You’re free to have one, if you’d like, but don’t try to bite down on them or you’ll break your teeth. Suck on it awhile.”

He fished out a gold coin and put it between his teeth. He winced with a sour expression. “How can you eat these things? I’ve eaten bad biscuits, but these aren’t even good enough to be called bad.”

So easy with a young mind, she thought. Too bad it wasn’t that easy on an adult.

He spat to the side and tossed the bag of gold to the snow before patting her cape, searching for anything else she might have concealed.

She sighed impatiently. “Would you boys get on with this robbery. We’d like to make the next town before dark.”

“Nothin’,” the second said. “They don’t have nothin’ worth the trouble of carrying off.”

“They got horses,” the first said as he squeezed fistfuls of her heavy cape, feeling for anything it might be holding. “At least we can take the horses. They’ll bring something.”

“Please do,” she said. “I’m tired of being slowed by leading those old nags around. You would be doing me a favor. All four are lame and I don’t have the heart to put them out of their misery.

“The old woman’s right,” the second said as he pulled one of the limping horse along, testing it. “All four. We can walk faster. We try to take these bags of bones with us and we’ll get caught sure.”

The first was still running his hand down her cape. It halted on her pocket. “What’s this?”

Her voice took on an edge. “Nothing of interest to you.”

“Yeah?” He fingered the journey book from her pocket.

As he thumbed through the blank pages, she caught sight of a message. At last.

“What’s this?”

“Just a notebook. Can you read, son?”

“No. There don’t appear to be hardly nothin’ worth reading anyway.”

“Take it anyway,” the second said. “It might be worth something if nothin’s written in it.”

She looked back to the young man holding the sword on her. “I’ve had just about enough of this. Consider the robbery over.”

“It’s over when I say it’s over.”

“Give it back,” Ann said in a level voice as she held her hand out. “And then be on your way before I drag you to town by your ear and have your parents come to collect you.”

He brandished the sword as he leapt back defensively. “Look, don’t you go getting feisty or you’ll taste steel! I know how to use this thing!”

The still evening air suddenly thundered with horses’ hooves. She had been watching as the soldiers had slipped up, around the bend and over the little bridge, unnoticed by the two young men because of the rushing water, until at the last moment when they charged in. As her assailant turned in shock, Ann snatched the sword from his hands. Nathan snatched the knife from the other.

Mounted D’Haran soldiers suddenly towered above them. “What’s going on here?” the sergeant asked in a calm, deep voice.

The two young men stood frozen in panic. “Well,” Ann said, “we ran into these two, here, and they were telling us how we should be careful of outlaws. They live in the neighborhood. They were showing us how to protect ourselves and giving us a demonstration of their blade work.”

The sergeant folded his hands over the pommel. “Is that right, boy?”

“I . . . we . . .” His pleading eyes turned to her. “That’s right. We live nearby, and we was just telling these two travelers to be careful as we heard tell that there are outlaws about.”

“And quite a show of swordsmanship it was. As I promised, young man, you get a biscuit for the show. Hand me my sack of biscuits, there.”

He bent and snatched up the heavy purse of gold, holding it out to her. Ann pulled two coins out and pressed one into the hand of each young man.

“As promised, a biscuit for each. Now you boys best be getting home before dark, or your parents will worry. Give them my biscuit as thanks for sending you out to warn us to be careful.”

He nodded dumbly. “All right. Good night, then. Take care of yourselves.”

Ann held her hand out. She fixed the young man with a dangerous squint. “If you’re done looking at my notebook, I’ll have it back.”

His eyes widened at the look in hers, and then he thrust the journey book into her hand as if it were burning his fingers, which it was.

Ann smiled. “Thank you, son.”

He wiped the hand on his tattered coat. “Good-bye, then. And be careful.”

He turned to leave. “Don’t forget this.” He turned back cautiously. She held the hilt out to him. “You father would be awfully angry if you forgot to bring back his sword.”

He lifted it carefully. Nathan, not about to let this go without a bit of theatrics, walked the spinning knife across the backs of his fingers. He tossed the knife in the air, catching it behind his back, and then whirled it under his armpit and into his other hand. Ann rolled her eyes as he slapped the blade, reversing the spin. He caught the knife by its blade and handed it, handle first, to the other wide-eyed young man.

“Where’d you learn to do than, old man?” the sergeant asked.

Nathan scowled. If there was one thing Nathan didn’t like, it was being called “old man.” He was a wizard, a prophet, of unparalleled ability, and thought he should be viewed with wonder, if not open awe. She was restraining his gift by choking it off with his Rada’Han, or no doubt the sergeant’s saddle would be aflame by now. She was also preventing him from speaking. Nathan’s tongue was at least as dangerous as his power.

“I’m afraid my brother is deaf and dumb.” She gestured to the two outlaws with a shooing motion of her hand. They waved and scrambled for the woods, kicking up snow as they went. “My brother has always amused himself by practicing hand tricks.”

“Ma’am, are you sure those two aren’t causing you any trouble?”

“Oh, no,” she scoffed.

The sergeant lifted his reins, the twenty men behind him doing the same in response, ready to take out after him. “Well, I think we’ll have a little talk with them, anyway. A little talk about thieving.”

“If you do, be sure to ask them to tell you about how the D’Haran soldiers stole their families’ stores of food, and how they’re starving because of it.”

The square-jawed soldier lowered the reins. “I don’t know anything about what was done before, but the new Lord Rahl has given explicit orders that there will be no stealing of anything by the army.”

“The new Lord Rahl?”

He nodded. “Richard Rahl, the Master of D’Hara.”

From the corner of ther eye, she saw a smile twitch across Nathan’s lips. It was a smile for a properly taken fork in a prophecy. Though it had to be, were they to succeed, it brough her no smile, but an inner pang of agony for the path ahead now confirmed. Only the alternative was worse. “Yes, I do believe I’ve heard the name, now that you mention it.”

The sergeant stood in the stirrups and turned back to his men. “Ogden, Spaulding!” Their horses kicked up snow when they leaped ahead. “Go after those boys and take them to their families. Find out if what they say is true about their stores being stolen by troops. If it is, find out the number in their families and if there are any others in the neighborhood under the same circumstances. Take a report back to Aydindril at once and see to it that they get what they need to eat, to see them through the winter.”

The two men saluted with a fist to the dark leather and mail over their hearts and then galloped their horses down the tracks leading into the woods. The sergeant turned back to her. “Lord Rahl’s order,” he explained. “Are you headed to Aydindril?”

“Yes, we’re hoping to find safety there, like the others traveling north.”

“You’ll find it, then, but it comes at a cost. I’ll tell you the same as all the others. Whatever your former homeland, you will now be subjects of D’Hara. Your allegiance is required, along with a small portion of what you earn in your labor, if you wish to come to territory held by D’Hara.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “It would seem the army is still thieving from the people?”

“It might seem so to you, but not to Lord Rahl, and his word is law. All pay the same in order to support the troops who have been charged with protecting our freedom. If you don’t wish to pay, you are free not to seek that protection and freedom.”

“Seems like Lord Rahl has things well in hand.”

The sergeant nodded. “He is a powerful wizard.”

Nathan’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh.

The sergeant’s eyes narrowed. “What’s he laughing about, if he’s supposed to be deaf and dumb?”

“Oh he is, but he’s also a half-wit.” Ann strolled toward the horses. As she crossed in front of the broad-shouldered wizard, she landed a sharp elbow in his gut. “Laughs like that at the oddest times.” She scowled up as Nathan coughed. “He’s liable to start drooling in a moment, if he keeps at it.”

Ann stroked a gentle hand along Bella’s sleek, powerful, golden flanks. Bella danced with delight at her touch. The big mare hopefully stuck her tongue out; she like nothing better than having someone tug on it. Ann obliged her and then scratched behind an ear. Bella whinned with a horse giggle and stuck the tongue out again, hoping for the game to continue.

“You were saying, Sergeant, about how Lord Rahl is a powerful wizard?”

“That’s right. He slew the creatures you’ll see on pikes before the palace.”

“Creatures?”

“He calls them mriswith. Ugly, scaled, lizardlike things. They’ve killed a number of people, but Lord Rahl himself cut them to pieces.”

Mriswilh. That was certainly not good news.

“Is there a town near, where we could find food and lodging for the night?”

“Ten Oaks is just over the next rise, maybe two miles. There’s a small inn there.”

“And how far to Aydindril?”

He appraised their four horses as she stroked Bella’s ear. “With animals as fine as those, I doubt it will take you more than seven or eight days.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. It’s good to know there are soldiers about in case there are outlaws in the neighborhood.”

He glanced over at Nathan, taking in his towering form, his long white hair that brushed his shoulders, his strong, clean-shaven jaw, and his hooded, penetrating, dark azure eyes. Nathan was a ruggedly handsome man filled with vigor, despite the fact that he was close to a thousand years old.

The sergeant looked back to her, clearly preferring to exchange glances with a squat old woman rather than with Nathan. Even with his power choked off, Nathan presented an intimidating presence. “We’re looking for someone: the Blood of the Fold.”

“Blood of the Fold? You mean those pompous fools from Nicobarese in the red capes?”

The sergeant snugged the reins as his horse tried to step sideways. Others of the twenty horses pawed the snow, looking for grass, or nibbled hopefully at dry branches to the side of the road, tails lazily swishing the cool evening air. “That’s them. Two men, one the lord general of the Blood, another officer, and a woman. They escaped from Aydindril, and Lord Rahl has ordered them brought back. We have men out everywhere scouring the countryside.”

“Sorry, but I haven’t seen a sign of them. Is Lord Rahl staying at the Wizard’s Keep?”

“No, at the Confessors’ Palace.”

Ann signed. “That’s good, at least.”

His brow drew together. “Why is that good?”

She hadn’t realized she had spoke her relief aloud. “Oh, well, it’s just that I’m hoping to see this great man, and if he stays at the Keep, then I wouldn’t be able to. It’s protected by magic, I hear. If he comes out on a balcony at the palace to greet the people, I might get to see him.

“Well, thank you for your help, Sergeant. I think we best get to Ten Oaks before it gets pitch black. Don’t want one of my horses to step in a hole and break a leg.”

The sergeant bid her a good night and led his column of men up the road, away from Aydindril. Only after they were more than out of earshot did she withdraw the block from Nathan’s voice. It was difficult to maintain such control for long periods of time. Ann mentally braced for the inevitable tirade as she started gathering up their packs from the snow.

“We best be on our way,” she told him.

Nathan drew himself up with an imperious scowl. “You would give gold to robbers? You should have—”

“They were only boys, Nathan. They were hungry.”

“They tried to rob us!”

Ann smiled as she tossed a pack over Bella. “You know as well as I that that would not have happened, but I gave them a little more than gold. I don’t think they will be trying that again.”

He grunted. “I hope the spell you put on it burns their fingers to the bone.”

“Help me with our things. I want to get to the inn. There was a message in the journey book.”

Nathan was struck speechless for only an instant. “Took her long enough. We left her enough hints for a child of ten to figure it out long before now. We did everything but leave a note pinned to her dress that said, ‘By the way, the Prelate and the Prophet aren’t really dead, you dolt.’ ”

Ann cinched Bella’s girth strap tight. “I’m sure it wasn’t as easy for her as you make it out to be. It seems obvious to us only because we knew. She had no reason to suspect. Verna figured it out; that’s all that is important.”

Nathan replied with a lofty snort before he finally started helping by gathering up the rest of the packs. “Well, what did she say?”

“I don’t know yet. When we get settled for the night we’ll find out.”

Nathan lifted a finger in her direction. “You pull the deaf-and-dumb trick on me again and you will live to regret it.”

She turned an angry scowl on him. “And if we again come across people and you start yelling that you’ve been abducted by a mad witch and held prisoner in a magic collar, I’ll make you deaf and dumb for real!”

Nathan huffed sourly as he went back to work. As he turned to his horse, she saw him smile to himself in satisfaction.

By the time they found the inn, and after they had left their horses with a boy at the stable out back, the stars were out and the small winter moon was visible over a distant mountain slope. The woodsmoke hugging the ground also carried the aroma of stew. She gave the stableboy a penny to carry in their things.

Ten Oaks was a small community, and the inn had only a dozen locals at the few tables, most drinking and smoking pipes over stories of soldiers they had seen, and rumored alliances forged by the new Lord Rahl, who not all were sure was really in command of Aydindril, as was claimed. Others asked them to then explain why the D’Haran troops had suddenly become so disciplined, if it wasn’t because someone had finally brought them to task.

Nathan, wearing high boots, brown trousers, a ruffled white shirt buttoned up over his Rada’Han, an open dark green vest, and a heavy dark brown cape hanging almost to the floor, strolled up to the short counter set before a few bottles and kegs. With a noble air, he flipped his cape back over a shoulder as he settled a boot to the footrail. Nathan relished wearing clothes other than the black robes he always wore at the palace. He called it “playing down.”

The humorless innkeeper smiled only after Nathan had slid silver his way and advised that for the high price of lodging, it had better include a meal. The innkeeper shrugged and agreed.

Before she knew it, Nathan was already spinning a tale that he was a merchant traveling with his mistress while his wife was home raising his twelve sons. The man wanted to know what sort of merchandise Nathan dealt in. Nathan leaned close, lowered his commanding voice, and winked at the man as he told hint that it would be safer if he didn’t know.

The impressed innkeeper straightened and handed Nathan a mug on the house. Nathan toasted the Ten Oaks Inn, the innkeeper, and the patrons before he started for the stairs, telling the innkeeper to bring a mug for his “woman” when he brought their stew. Every eye in the inn followed him, marveling at the impressive stranger among them.

Pressing her lips tight, Ann vowed not to let herself be distracted again, giving Nathan enough time to make up their pretense at being there. It was the journey book that had distracted her. She wanted to know what it said, but she was apprehensive about it, too. Something could easily have gone wrong, and one of the Sisters of the Dark could have the book and have discovered the two of them were still alive. They couldn’t afford that. She pressed her fingers against a pang in her stomach. For all she knew, the Palace of the Prophets was already in the hands of the enemy.

The room was small, but clean, with two narrow pallets, a whitewashed stand holding a tin washbasin and chipped ewer, and a square table atop which Nathan set an oil lamp he had carried in from the bracket beside the door. The innkeeper was not far behind with bowls of lamb stew and brown bread, followed by the stableboy with their bags. After both had gone and closed the door, Ann sat and scooted her chair up to the table.

“Well,” Nathan said, “aren’t you going to give me a lecture?”

“No, Nathan, I’m tired.”

He flourished a hand. “I thought it only fair, in view of the deaf-mute business.” His expression turned dark. “I’ve been held in this collar all but the first four years of my life. How would you feel, being a captive your whole life?”

Ann mused to herself that, being his keeper, she was nearly as much a captive as he. She met his glare. “Though you never believe me when I say it, Nathan, I will tell you again that I wish it weren’t so. It brings me no pleasure to keep one of the Creator’s children a prisoner for no crime but his birth.”

After a long silence, he withdrew the glare. His hands clasped behind his back, Nathan strolled the room, giving it a critical appraisal. His boots thumped across the plank floor. “Not what I’m accustomed to,” he announced to no one in particular. Ann pushed away the bowl of stew and set the journey book on the table, staring at the black leather cover for a time before finally opening it and turning to the writing.

You must first tell me the reason you chose me the last time. I remember every word. One mistake, and this journey book feeds the fire.

“My, my, my,” she murmured. “She’s being very cautious. Good.” Nathan peered over Ann’s shoulder as she pointed. “Look at the strokes, at how hard she pressed. Verna looks to be angry.”

Ann stared at the words. She knew what Verna meant.

“She must really hate me,” Ann whispered as the words on the page wavered in her watery gaze.

Nathan straightened. “So what? I hate you, and it never seems to bother you.”

“Do you, Nathan? Do you really hate me?”

His only answer was a dismissive grunt. “Have I told you that this plan of yours is madness?”

“Not since breakfast.”

“Well it is, you know.”

Ann stared at the words in the journey book. “You’ve worked before to influence which fork is taken in prophecy, Nathan, because you know what can happen down the wrong path, and you also know how vulnerable the prophecies are to corruption.”

“What good will it do everyone if you get yourself killed with this foolhardy plan? And me with you! I’d like to live to see a thousand, you know. You’re going to get us both killed.”

Ann rose from her chair. She laid gentle a hand on his muscular arm. “Tell me then, Nathan, what you would do. You know the prophecies; you know the threat. You yourself are the one who warned me. Tell me what you would do, if it were up to you.”

He shared a gaze with her for a long moment. The fire left his eyes as he put a big hand over hers. “The same as you, Ann. It’s our only chance. But it doesn’t make me feel any better knowing the danger to you.”

“I know, Nathan. Are they there? Are they in Aydindril?”

“One is,” he said quietly as he squeezed her hand, “and the other will be there around the time we arrive; I have seen it in the prophecy.

“Ann, this age that is upon us is tangled with a warren of prophecies. War draws prophecies like dung draws flies. Branches go in every direction. Every one of them must be negotiated properly. If we take the wrong path on any of them, we walk into oblivion. Worse, there are gaps where I don’t know what must be done. Worse yet, there are others involved who must also take the correct fork, and we have no control over them.”

Ann could find no words, and so nodded instead. She sat back at the table and inched her chair close. Nathan straddled the other chair and broke off a chunk of brown bread, chewing while he watched her draw the stylus from the spine of the journey book.

Ann wrote, Tomorrow night, when the moon is up, go to the place you found this. She closed the book and returned it to a pocket in her gray dress.

Nathan spoke around his mouthful of bread. “I hope she is smart enough to justify your faith.”

“We trained her as best we could, Nathan; we sent her away from the palace for twenty years so she might learn to use her wits. We have done all we can. Now we must have faith in her.” Ann kissed the finger where the Prelate’s ring had been all those years. “Dear Creator, give her strength, too.”

Nathan blew on a spoonful of hot stew. “I want a sword,” he announced.

Her brow wrinkled. “You’re a wizard with full command of his gift. Why in the name of Creation would you want a sword?”

He regarded her as if she were witless. “Because I would look dashing with a sword at my hip.”