‘Wait, wait, one moment, wait, please,’ Rodler begged. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was anything-’
‘And that makes it even worse-’
‘But wait, wait, if you’re heading for Gorsk, I can get you in,’ Rodler was pleading. ‘I can get you past the patrols.’
‘We’ll be fine,’ Mark said, his tone still uncompromising.
The man fell to his knees. ‘I can get you silver, lots of silver. Is that what you’re doing out here? Or is it Sandcliff? I can get you into Sandcliff.’ His voice cracked in desperation; Mark grinned, wondering if he had pissed his leggings.
‘What do you know of Sandcliff?’ Gilmour interrupted, raising one hand to Mark as if to stay the execution – even if only for a moment.
‘The Larion palace, I can get in there.’ Rodler’s eyes were pleading; maybe the old man was the leader of this odd company. ‘That’s where you’re going, right? Sandcliff?’
‘How do you know?’
‘Well, you’re an old man, really old – what else would you be doing out here during this Twinmoon, running along the edge of the border and heading east?’
‘Adding ageism to your list of transgressions is not impressing me, shithead.’ Mark refused to look at Steven.
Rodler tried to explain, his voice still shaking. ‘You built a small fire in the lee of this rock, hoping the smoke will disappear in the twilight. You obviously have some magic, because I nearly stepped on you and I don’t generally miss four men, four horses and a burning campfire, especially when they’re directly in my path. So I’m guessing you have some cloaking spell keeping you hidden, or at least keeping people around you distracted by other things.
‘And him.’ Rodler pointed at Steven. ‘He looks fit enough to run from here to Capehill, so why carry a staff? He doesn’t need it for walking – his legs aren’t injured and he has a horse-’ Rodler’s half-guesses were coming more quickly now, ‘and I have never seen anyone this close to the border who hadn’t planned somehow to get into Gorsk. Of course, no one I have ever met along this ridge was going into Gorsk for benevolent reasons. Resistance fighters, root peddlers like me, even a few merchants, but no one comes this way to see the sights.’ Rodler paused in his rant to check on Mark, who still had a shaft nocked and drawn full. ‘But I know things about Gorsk – I’m well connected there. And I will never again use that term, I promise, and I am deeply sorry I offended you. No offence was intended, I swear. I’m telling the truth: If you want to get into Sandcliff, I can get you in.’
Gilmour gestured for Mark to lower his bow and, reluctantly, he complied, saying as he returned the arrow to its quiver, ‘If I get even the faintest hint that you are thinking of me or of my race as anything other than your equal – your better – you drug-dealing piece of mooseshit, I will drop you in your tracks. You will have no idea death is coming, but it will be final. Do you understand?’
Rodler nodded, still sweating.
Gilmour indicated he should join them around the fire. Mark bent to his coffee and tried to ignore the conversation.
‘How much do you carry?’ Garec asked.
‘Just this,’ Rodler indicated several pouches along the bandolier; it looked like they ran round his back as well, but he pulled his cloak close again.
‘We’re not here for your drugs,’ Steven said. ‘None of us are interested.’
Rodler calmed noticeably. He looked again at the hickory staff and asked, ‘That magic, then?’
‘I can get hockey games on it when the wind is right, but sometimes the audio is fuzzy,’ Steven said. Mark, in spite of himself, barked a laugh as Garec looked quizzical.
‘Not willing to tell me, huh? Well, what’s that language you and your- your friend speak? Asshole? Hockey? ’
‘It’s the language we speak where we live. ’ Mark had used too many slang terms for him to believe they were anything but foreigners now.
‘A different place? A different world?’
Steven nodded. ‘You don’t seem surprised.’
‘My great-grandmother told my mother all about the Larion Senate – although I think they were all dead before even she was born. But she never forgot the stories about when magic and mystical things happened all over Eldarn. It wasn’t just the dark prince’s nonsense, but real magic, and fascinating inventions and ideas and innovations the senators had brought back here from- well, from somewhere else.’
‘Your great-grandmother was right,’ Gilmour said. ‘It was a magical time.’
Rodler smiled for the first time since joining them. ‘You sound as though you were there.’
Gilmour raised his eyebrows.
Rodler gave up. ‘So did you plan to cross tonight?’
‘We had thought about moving further east, at least across the Merchants’ Highway, and crossing there,’ Garec said, and then regretted divulging that much information, but neither Gilmour and Steven seemed upset with him for it.
‘You could do that, but there’s no need,’ Rodler said. ‘Right here is fine. There’s a big encampment back about a half day’s ride-’
‘We saw it yesterday,’ Steven agreed.
‘But that’s it until you reach the highway and the border stations.’
‘How do you know?’ Garec asked. ‘I thought you said you only make these deliveries from time to time.’
‘Sometimes more frequently than others.’ Rodler sniffed the air. ‘What is that? Burned tecan?’
Garec answered, ‘It’s called coffee and I recommend you try it barefoot.’
‘All right.’ Rodler shrugged and began pulling off his boots.
Steven didn’t attempt to explain. ‘What can you tell us of Sandcliff Palace?’
‘So I was right. That’s where you’re going.’ No one responded, so Rodler continued, ‘I think there must be some old Larion magic still working in that place, because you would never know it had been abandoned for so long. The grounds are a tangle and the forest has just about swallowed the place, but it doesn’t look at all run down. It’s as if its heart is still beating, and with a few folks to clear the brush, it would be back to the glory we all heard about as kids. It’s not falling down, or even dusty. The windows aren’t broken – well, one big one above the main hall, but that’s the only one I remember seeing – and the inside is as clean as my mother’s bedroom.’
Gilmour grimaced at the mention of the broken window, but quickly hid his embarrassment. ‘How did you get inside?’
‘I was in a hurry one morning after a business undertaking unravelled-’
‘Tried to sell to the wrong people?’ Garec interrupted.
‘No. It wasn’t a fennaroot deal. I was at the university.’
Steven frowned and Gilmour explained, ‘There is a small university near Sandcliff – the Larion Senators did much of their work there.’ He chose his words carefully: Rodler appeared to have been honest with them and it was clear he was not Nerak disguised, but he had yet to prove himself trustworthy.
‘So you were there trying to enrol in a class?’ Garec asked pointedly. ‘The universities have been closed since Prince Marek took the Eastlands.’
Rodler cast his eyes down towards the fire. ‘I make a number of trips up here. Some trips are more lucrative than others. Often I’ll stop by the university-’
‘Books,’ Steven interrupted. ‘You’re stealing old books.’
‘I do a bit of book business in Capehill, yes.’
Garec shook his head.
‘What?’ Rodler defended himself, ‘I have to make a living. How do you feed your family?’
‘I’m a farmer in Rona,’ Garec said.
‘You’ve come a long way from home since harvest, then.’ The quick-witted smuggler didn’t miss much. ‘When did you get all the crops in? A few days ago? You’re quite a speedy traveller.’
Garec didn’t back down. ‘I cover some ground, yes.’