They clopped and swayed their way into the Riverton, greeted by passersby on the road. As they entered the town, Corbin's brothers led aside the sheep to the stockyards. There were many complements on the generosity of the offerings they were bringing. Brand and Jak swelled with pride. They were running Rabing Isle on their own, but they weren't slackers. Their father had brought no more or less to the Harvest Moon in years past.
They wound up the hill to where the nicer houses and the largest buildings were. In the center of town, where the guildhouses and the shops huddled close to the road, there was even a section of cobblestones. Tator perked up here, as if he were proud to pull his cart through the best street in town.
It was here that they stopped before the gates of the manor house of the Drake clan. The Drakes were the wealthiest and most influential clan on Stone Island. It was at their ancestral home that the clan leaders held council. Although it wasn't as spacious as the common room of the Spotted Hog Inn, where the town meetings were generally held, it afforded much more privacy.
“I'll go on in and announce us,” said Tylag, climbing down with a grunt. The driver's board straightened in relief. Brand watched as Tylag walked through the ancient iron gates and up the path to the manor. The gates were never locked; in fact, it had been so many years since they had been shut that the hinges had frozen with rust.
Brand felt a slight rocking of the wagon. He looked around and was surprised to see Telyn sitting beside him, just biting into an apple. She grinned at his expression.
“My, but you're getting tall,” she said.
“Telyn!” he breathed, unable to get out more.
“You should look behind you more often,” she commented. Brand made a wry face, but it was half-hearted. She was so pretty, even with her hair rather stringy-looking and unkempt and her stained clothes smelling of the tannery vats. The delicacy of her face and her gray-blue eyes came through all that. He felt his heart leap just at the sight of her. He watched a drop of apple juice run down her hand for a moment before he was able to reply.
“You're always sneaking up on me!” he said finally.
“I like to be unpredictable,” she responded with a flip of her head. She smiled at him again, and it was like sunlight breaking through a gray cloud. She took another bite of her apple and then frowned, tossing it over the wall of Drake manor.
“What are you doing?”
“It was a cull,” she said with a shrug. She stretched luxuriously, pushing her fists into the air over her head. “Just as most of those melons you've dragged all the way in from the island are probably culls.”
Brand's brow furrowed. “We wouldn't do that!”
“Well, I would.”
“Hello, Scraper,” said Corbin from the ground. He had left his cart and now stood with Jak. Both of them grinned up at Brand. Brand blushed, feeling the blood tingle all the way down to his knees.
“Hello, Corbin-Jak,” Telyn answered, fluttering her hand at them. She produced another apple and a small sharp knife from her nondescript garment. Slicing the fruit with quick efficient strokes, she began munching on the wedges. “Do you fancy an apple?” she asked Brand, who was staring at her. She winked at him, and he blushed all over again.
Corbin and Jak withdrew to the manor gate to have a look into the courtyard. They kept a discreet eye on Brand and his visitor while they talked.
“I wish they wouldn't call you that,” he said.
“What? Scraper? That's what everyone calls me,” she said, unconcerned.
He looked troubled. “But it isn't a very pretty name.”
She smiled. “Look, I scrape the fur off hides at my father's vats. Most of the Fob clan works in the tanneries. The name doesn't bother me. Besides, my work has taught me to be handy with a knife.”
“Okay. Where did you get all the apples?” Brand asked, attempting to shift the conversation. He never seemed to know exactly what to say to Telyn. Somehow these days his thoughts were muddled and never came out right when she was around. It had been different when they had been children.
“Where do you think? From clan Thunderfoot's offering. They have the best orchards in the Haven, after all.”
Brand was scandalized. “You took them from the offering?” he demanded in disbelief.
Telyn only shrugged her pretty shoulders again. “Better that I enjoy them than some prancing Faerie that would as soon spoil my milk or lead astray a lamb as look at me.”
Brand doubted that the Faerie would be so aloof to her, but he didn't say as much. Instead, he changed the subject again. “I saw a candle burning in your window last night. At least, I think I did.”
Telyn slid her eyes around without moving her head and transfixed him with a penetrating gaze. Brand was immediately speechless. She swallowed her bite of apple, and then straightened purposefully, taking Brand's hand in her own. “Are you the one then?” she asked.
Brand gaped at her. He wanted to tell her that yes, he was the one, no matter that he wasn't yet full grown, no matter that his beard was barely enough to bother shaving each morning, but all he could do was stare.
“Are you the one?” she repeated in a hushed voice. “I've had one of those feelings Brand, you know, like when we were kids.”
Brand nodded, remembering. “You mean like when you knew Gram Rabing had fallen off the ladder and found her? And when you told me not to let my parents go on the river, that day…” he swallowed, unable to continue.
“Yes,” she hissed, leaning even closer. She was in easy kissing range now, and it made it difficult for Brand to think clearly. “Yes, just like that-only different, too. I've felt that someone is coming. Maybe several people. I've felt that they need help in getting here. That's why I've been burning a candle in my window each night. I don't know who, but I know they must get here soon.”
“Before the Harvest Moon,” whispered Brand.
She nodded very seriously.
Brand thought about the Harvest Moon and everything it meant to the River Folk. He tried to look calm, but he really wanted to shudder. He controlled himself with difficulty, managing a small nod. He didn't want to look like a scared little boy in front of Telyn.
Chapter Eight
“I've been seeing and feeling odd things as well,” he said. Then he told her about the shadow man and the owl, managing to hold her hand in his and lean close to her fair face the entire time. He only edited the truth slightly, not mentioning that he had slipped to the deck of the ferry in numb fear.
Telyn's eyes unfocused and flittered from spot to spot while he spoke. She nodded to herself frequently. Brand knew she was thinking rapidly, her quick mind coming up with a scheme. He could recall her looking like that before he had gotten into the most daring of his childhood adventures. The River only knew what she would come up with.
“All right,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I know now what we must do. I'll catch up with you tonight.” With that, she darted forward and kissed him on the cheek. Their eyes locked for a moment.
“Brand! Corbin! Jak!” came Tylag's voice, booming over the manor wall. He heard the crunch of boots on gravel. “Come to me. We have a problem.”
Brand turned to look back at the gates. He swallowed, facing the prospect of entering Drake manor for the first time since he was a small boy at his father's knee. He turned back to say farewell to Telyn, but discovered that she was gone. He looked up and down the street and thought he caught a glimpse of her slipping around a corner, but he couldn't be sure.
“Come on, Brand,” said Jak. He followed Corbin into the courtyard. With frequent glances back over his shoulder, Brand scrambled down and passed between the rusty gates after them.