The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [107]
I wished Rushton were there to decide. After a long moment, I nodded, and Pavo’s shoulders slumped visibly as if he had been holding his breath.
“Thank you,” he said.
I felt tears in my eyes and was relieved to see Matthew and Jik arrive, laden with dry wood. Jik froze and looked about, sensing the tangle of emotions. I sent a quick shielded instruction to Matthew, and he began to make a fire, diverting Jik’s attention.
We slept inside the caravans again because of the sodden ground but left the flaps open for fresh air. Obernewtyn seemed very far away.
Near dawn, I was jolted awake by Domick poking his head into the wagon.
“Quick, there are people coming. Men,” he hissed urgently.
I farsensed the area and almost fainted with horror. There were at least a dozen men approaching the clearing. “It’s too late to escape,” I told him. “You get away. I’ll send the horses away and contact you once I find out what this is all about. Quickly,” I whispered.
He nodded, then melted silently into the gray predawn shadows.
My heart thundering, I farsent the group, warning them to let me do any talking. Then I urged the horses away.
Our only hope, I knew, was to be taken for the gypsies we appeared to be. I cursed my stupidity at not taking better precautions after Avra had found the tracks.
“Ho. What have we here?” called a gruff voice. I leaned out of the caravan. Three men stood in the open, illuminated by the dying embers of our fire. Behind them, the dark sky showed pink and gray traces of the dawn. I sensed the other men waiting in the bushes.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I shouted.
“Gypsies,” sneered one, a fat, bristle-bearded man with a great pouting stomach and pale, glistening eyes.
“Perhaps,” said the voice that had first hailed us. It belonged to a muscular young giant with ginger hair.
The third man appeared frail and was clad in a long, fine woolen gown much like the garb worn by Herder priests. I was terrified that we might have fallen into Herder hands. I prayed the priest would not recognize Jik and hurriedly warned him not to draw attention to himself. With his dark skin, dyed hair, and gypsy clothing, he did not look much like the Herder boy we had rescued.
“Who are you to be waking us in the middle of the night?” I demanded. Gypsies were not known for their manners.
“Get out of those wagons, all of you!” snarled the black-bearded man.
“This is a funny time to want your palm read,” I grumbled. “If you mean to rob us, you’ll be disappointed.” I climbed out and put my hands on my hips as the others gathered behind me. I watched the man in the robe closely, but he did not seem to recognize Jik. “Well, you have us all out. Now what?” I asked.
The ginger-haired woodsman quirked his brow speculatively. “Is this all of you?”
“Enough for you,” I said cheekily.
“Are you the leader of these people?” asked the man in the robe. He had a curiously colorless voice and very cold eyes.
“For now,” I answered after swift thought. “My father is the leader of our troupe. We are to meet up with him in Arandelft.” I nodded at Pavo. “My cousin here fell sick, and our party split in two. Though I don’t know what business it is of yours,” I added rudely.
“What are you doing here if you are headed for Arandelft?” asked the white-robed man.
My heart jumped. “We heard there was an Olden way through the mountains,” I said. The best lies are the ones that are mostly true, Louis always told us. He was glaring belligerently at the men, and I hoped he would keep his mouth shut.
“There is no such pass.” The robed man stepped forward, and I resisted the urge to step away. “Enough of this. We will bring them back to camp.”
More men stepped out of the trees. I pretended to look surprised. “Find the horses and bring these vans.”
“Where are you taking us?” I demanded.
The robed man did not answer, but the ginger-bearded woodsman grinned over his shoulder. “You are to meet the great man himself. The Druid.”
8
THROUGH THE TREES, I could see a settlement. I realized we were headed for the blank area I had been