‘It’s all right,’ she interrupted, ‘I was taking you to Greentree Tavern because I knew there would be soldiers around. I was hoping to lose you in the confusion.’
Mark laughed. ‘So I was right.’
She smiled. ‘’Fraid so. I was planning an escape – but I was glad Sallax didn’t kill you at Riverend. I still am.’
‘So am I. It would’ve really put a damper on our relationship if your brother had shot me full of arrows or run me through with his rapier. I’m not certain I would ever have been able to build up the courage to ask you out after that.’
‘Out?’
‘Yes, out, on a date,’ he tried to clarify.
‘A date, like today or yesterday?’ She seemed confused.
‘No, not that kind of date!’ He searched for the right words in Ronan.
‘Mark, I would very much like to help you, but I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she said.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of her smile. ‘You’re toying with me, aren’t you? You know exactly what I mean.’
‘I might be, but it’s always fun to watch you stumble over yourself,’ she said and reached across the saddle to give him a playful shove.
Grabbing her hand, he said sarcastically, ‘Oh, sure, mock the foreigner, why don’t you.’
‘Well, you did tie me to a tree.’
‘And your brother tried to kill me with an axe. I’d say that makes us even, wouldn’t you?’ He held her hand for as long as he dared, then released it to secure an errant leather strap to her saddle.
‘Even?’
‘Oh, don’t start that again.’ Mark moved to collect his bedroll while Brynne stored the last hickory trenchers in her saddlebag. With his back turned, the young teacher did not see her watching him from the fire-pit. Kneeling near the log Mark had dragged from the forest as an impromptu sofa, Brynne played with his watchband, turning it slowly around her wrist. Then, smirking, she started preparing the remaining horses for the day’s journey.
*
When the Ronans returned from the forest, it was obvious Gilmour and Sallax were engaged in an argument.
‘I understand why you want to raid them, Sallax,’ Gilmour said calmly, ‘but we cannot afford to bring attention to ourselves. Who knows how many Malakasians are already tracking us north?’
‘That’s exactly my point.’ Sallax was determined. ‘We have no choice but to flee. Why not hit that caravan before they reach port? You know it’s nothing more than yet another group of merchants and landowners buying peace from Malagon’s generals.’
‘That’s true,’ Gilmour conceded, ‘but our mission now is clear. The days of raiding caravans are behind us.’
‘Forgive me if I’m not as confident in your mystical solution to this very real problem. Raiding has worked for us for many Twinmoons, Gilmour, and a fat cat is lumbering by out there just waiting for us to play with it.’
‘Now that’s not exactly accurate, Sallax,’ Gilmour countered. ‘They are very well protected. We might lose people, or be slowed by injuries. It is too risky.’
‘One strike,’ Sallax mused aloud. ‘What if we hit them with one quick strike, bows from above and a slash-and-burn attack at a full gallop? Who knows what damage we might do?’
‘That might work, Gilmour,’ Garec said. ‘Versen and I can inflict a good deal of damage from the heights above the road.’
Versen agreed. ‘That’s true. We could certainly open a hole in their defenders’ ranks.’
Mark leaned towards Brynne and whispered, ‘What are they talking about?’
Leaning back into him, ostensibly to keep her voice low, she answered, ‘For Twinmoons now, we have been raiding Ronan merchant caravans riding north to the Falkan border to meet with Malagon’s occupation generals. They push their workers near death, pay them next to nothing in wages and hoard enormous sums of money.’
‘They buy the right to be rich in a dictatorship,’ Mark said. ‘It’s nice to see nothing’s really different here.’
Brynne put one hand on Mark’s shoulder and spoke directly into his ear. ‘So, we hit the caravans. We take silver and weapons to help fund the Resistance.’
‘That’s what you were hiding at Riverend Palace.’ Mark turned towards her, their faces only inches apart. ‘But with Riverend’s fall-’
‘Everything we worked for is lost, and worse, the Malakasians now know Estrad Village was the centre of the Resistance.’ She looked worried and Mark’s heart broke for her. ‘Who knows what horrors they’ll commit while combing the village for us? They’ll use it as an excuse – not that they need one – and I don’t like thinking about it.’
Gilmour dismounted and ran one hand across his balding pate. ‘You want to hit them?’
Garec, Sallax and Versen nodded, while Mika, less confidently, added, ‘Yes.’
‘All right, we’ll hit them.’ He walked to the edge of the river where Steven was standing listening to the earnest debate. ‘You should stand behind me, Steven,’ Gilmour said. Cupping his hands over his mouth, the old Larion Senator emitted a shrill cry into the forest on the opposite shore. It was pitched very high, almost beyond the range of their hearing, and Steven was glad he had moved back. As Gilmour’s call sounded, Brynne immediately covered her ears and Garec let out a cry of pain and pushed his hands firmly against his temples. Mark’s equilibrium was thrown off balance and he sat heavily to avoid falling down.
Sallax shook the dizziness from his head and asked, ‘What in a thousand Twinmoons of pestilence was that?’
The old man smiled and reached into his tunic for a pipe. He filled the small bowl and gripped it firmly between his teeth before answering, ‘You said you wanted to hit them. We just made arrangements to hit them.’
Versen was confused. ‘How? What did you do?’
‘I called the grettans.’ Gilmour exhaled a cloud of blue smoke that loitered around his head before dissipating. ‘We ought to move along right away. Once they get here, I’m not certain I will be able to control them.’ He pursed his lips and prepared to remount his horse.
Versen looked shocked. Mika wiped several beads of sweat from his forehead.
‘Riverend,’ Garec pointed accusingly. ‘I saw you from the palace. You called those grettans in to attack the Malakasian horses.’
‘Of course I did,’ he answered, as if it had been obvious all along. ‘I couldn’t have you all taken prisoner or killed. We have a great deal of work to do and I need you.’
Garec pursued the issue further. ‘Did you call them all the way down from Gorsk? What are they doing this far south? The rutting bastards almost had my hide for breakfast in the forbidden forest.’
‘I think that was Malagon, or I suppose I should say Nerak. I would guess he sent those grettans down here to kill me-’ he paused for a moment before adding, ‘-or perhaps each of you.’
Versen swallowed awkwardly. Mika looked as though he might fall from the saddle. Gilmour patted the youngest Ronan gently on the knee. ‘Malagon doesn’t realise I can communicate with these grettans as well.’
‘Communicate?’ Brynne asked.
‘Yes, I can call them around, or suggest they move off somewhere else – they can understand that much. But I can’t keep them from attacking us if they arrive while we’re still here jabbering on about them.’ He motioned for Mark and Steven to mount up.
Garec stared at Gilmour with mixed admiration and amazement. ‘So, it’s true.’
‘What’s true?’ The older man was impatient to get the group moving again.
‘You really are a magician.’ Garec searched for the words. ‘It was all true, everything you said last night.’
‘Of course it’s true. Did you think I was making it up?’ he answered with feigned indignity. ‘Come now, we must hurry.’ Before riding into the forest, Gilmour turned to Sallax and added, ‘The grettans will hit the caravan. I imagine they’ll hit it hard, rout the wagons and ensure that silver never reaches port.’