The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [138]
Dray cocked his head to the side for a moment. She said they’re already packed up. Nell and the Sword Master are on Diablai. The bard’s crying.
Rosette looked at her hands, her thumbs pinching the reins.
‘Who’s the bard again?’ Jarrod asked.
‘My friend…from Treeon.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Clay.’
‘Why won’t Drayco say it?’
Rosette shook her head. ‘He has his reasons.’
Jarrod frowned. ‘How did you meet this bard?’
Rosette smiled at the memory. ‘He gave me a ride to the temple on his family’s plough horse—massive beast.’
‘Clay?’
‘No, the horse, silly.’
Jarrod’s lips formed a thin line. ‘If he’s in tears, he must believe you’re dead.’
He didn’t at first. Scylla said he was ready to ride through an army of Lupins to rescue you.
‘He might still have to fight that army if they don’t get moving,’ Rosette said, twisting in the saddle to check her horse’s breathing. It was slower now and more even.
‘We could be in the same situation,’ Jarrod warned, encouraging Wren forward. ‘Shall we move on?’
Rosette followed silently before sending a message to Drayco: Tell Scylla we’re on our way and to ask the Sword Master to watch over Clay.
Drayco trotted alongside Rosette and looked up at her. She says not to worry. He always has.
‘So what’s he like?’ Jarrod had removed his mare’s saddle and tethered her with the other horse in a chesthigh patch of waning yellow oat grass.
‘What’s who like?’ Rosette picked up her horse’s hooves one at a time, checking for stones. ‘Damn!’
‘Problem?’
‘You don’t have an anvil and forge with you, by any chance?’
Jarrod raised his eyebrows.
‘Loose nail,’ Rosette explained. ‘The shoe’s still snug, but this isn’t good. One twist and the whole thing could come off. There are only two nails on the inside wall. Who shoes like that?’
‘Someone in a hurry.’ Jarrod bent down, running his hand over the nail head and testing the wiggle.
‘White foot too. Just our luck,’ Rosette said, staring at the horse’s one white sock and cream-coloured hoof.
‘The roads should improve in a few days,’ Jarrod said. ‘We’ll make it.’
‘What roads?’
Jarrod smiled, but said no more. He gathered wood, stacking it in a pile as the sun disappeared behind the western foothills.
‘You two sound like you were pretty close.’
‘Who?’
‘You and Clay.’
Rosette snorted. ‘Yes and no. I mean, we had a lot of laughs and fooled around…’ She paused, tilting her head to one side, gauging Jarrod’s expression. ‘I trusted him but always felt that something wasn’t quite right.’
‘What’s he look like?’
Rosette laughed. ‘Jarrod, are you that jealous? Seriously, what difference does it make what he looks like?’
‘Just tell me.’
She clicked her tongue. ‘Like a lanky farm boy. Glorious tattoo of a forest stag on his right forearm, after the fashion of the Ice Clans. Very bright blue eyes. Wonderful singing voice…’
‘He’s a journeyman bard?’
She nodded.
‘So he journeys?’
‘That’s implicit in the name, yes.’ She scrunched her nose. ‘Why all these questions?’
‘Just tell me, what colour’s his hair?’
‘Jarrod, really! You’re getting obsessed.’
‘Does your bard have bright red hair?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘How’d you know?’
‘I think he was in Lividica a few weeks ago, nosing around about you.’
‘He was where?’
‘Lividica. A bard like your Clay played in the pubs and at the markets, asking all kinds of questions about the de Santos and their daughter Rosette. I think someone finally told him about the Matosh family and Kalindi Rose. He disappeared straight after, before I could confront him.’
‘But…that doesn’t make sense. He went away to Morzone for weeks but…’
‘That bard’s the reason I decided to come looking for you, Rosette. I knew something wasn’t right.’
She was silent for some time.
He lied to us, Maudi? Drayco asked, returning to the campsite with a small bush-pig in his mouth.
‘Oh, bravo, hunter-cat!’ she praised him as he dropped it at her feet.
Deception? Drayco asked again.
Maybe so. But we’ve lied to him too, she answered.
So it’s even?
It doesn’t really work that way.
I didn’t think so.
Jarrod joined