Hand of Fire - Ed Greenwood [54]
"Watch this," the maid from Highmoon said sharply to her husband. "I won't be troubling Master Voldovan to be dressing me every morn, no matter how much he enjoys it."
Orthil gave her a half-amused snort and said grimly to Narm, "Ye may have to get battle-spells ready, lad, if this goes on. Those brigands haven't done with us. They probably took the Two Pools trail and will be waiting for us next night. Or they're shadowing us, along the ridges. Either way, we're so much cook-meat on firespits once they learn how weak we're getting."
"Voldovan?" a rough but familiar voice called from close by outside the wagon.
"In!" the caravan master called curtly, and Arauntar thrust his head in at the flap, Beldimarr at his shoulder. "Well?"
"We've searched all. Nothing."
"Just gone, hey?"
The veteran guards nodded in grim unison.
"Any of the wagons better than what's still rolling?"
Arauntar shook his head. "Two clients lost theirs, an' we've shifted them to the best abandoned ones already. Valuable cargo, food, an' wagon wheels are in the other ready-wagon. Packed to the high hoops, 'tis."
"Thank the gods ye two know what to do. Anything to come in here?"
"A dozen strongchests an' a water barrel, if there's room."
"Oh, there'll be room. With just the lass riding the perch and one of ye as drover, we can pack this one to the hoops, too. Gods, but the hay's going fast."
"We'll be staying together," Narm said quietly,
"Shan and me. At all times."
Orthil glared at him. "Oh ye will, will ye?"
"Yes," Shandril told him crisply, hefting her helmet.
"We will, Orthil."
"That'd be best," Arauntar said quickly, ere Voldovan could draw breath for the angry tirade that by the look on his face seemed to be building swiftly to an eruption, "now that so many of us guards're down. With 'em both together, it takes only one of us to watch 'em. B'marr and I can take turns at that."
Beldimarr nodded, and then looked at Orthil.
"Well," the caravan master growled, "seeing as how ye seem to have it all worked out, why don't we just do that?" He eyed Narm and Shandril suspiciously, then whirled to peer at Arauntar and Beldimarr.
After a long, narrow-eyed look, Voldovan turned back to the mage and the spellfire-maid and growled,
"If I thought ye'd worked a spell on these two to get them to say aye to yer plan, it'd be my sword ye'd both be feeling about now." He sighed. "My scheme was to have a hold over ye, lass, to guard against any tyranny ye might feel the need of dispensing, by having thy husband elsewhere, in our grasp. I can make the same threats with crossbows, if need be.
Be warned."
"Oh, aye," Beldimarr growled before Shandril could reply, "one more thing: Carngaur died. The lance must've been poisoned."
"Buried?"
"Nay – let him poison a few leucrotta an' do us all one last service. He's back in the woods a-ways."
The caravan master nodded, sighed again, and made a large, circular knot in one of the tally-cords at his belt.
"He has a wife," Arauntar said softly, and Orthil frowned and changed the knot to another. Then his hands went to his other hip and held up some of the cords hanging there.
"We haven't the day it would take to tally every last chest and coffer and cask moved here or there; just tell me what wagons to tie off."
"Well, now. Dead folk can't pay us outstanding passage costs – an' we're going to have a real battle if we try to charge men who lost wagons any costs that come with another one we salvaged, to give to them…"
The caravan master and his senior guard were already out of the wagon and tramping away, the problem of the young mage and the fire-witch forgotten.
Beldimarr gave Narm and Shandril a gap-toothed grin and said, "That went rather well, hey?"
Shandril nodded, but Narm frowned.