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Topiara - Chapter 6
For three days the riders crossed the Bramboly plains, journeying north from Tandri on the King's own highway. The Bramboly plains were seemingly endless, stretching in golden waves as far as the eye could see in all directions and broken only by the occasional hut or inns that were scattered along the highway. After the first two days, in which they had come upon other settlements and travelers fairly frequently, the wide road dwindled to a mere path among the hip-high grasses.
As the number of strangers they met lessened by the day, Karlo came further and further out of his shell; and Lyara found herself often grateful for his experience and stories of his own treks in these lands. Gradually he began to act more like the Karlo of old, smiling and joking with his companions in an aloof yet gentle way. Lyara felt more and more at ease with her old fiend, and even Farranby ceased giving the young man questioning glances when he thought the Guide wasn't looking.
Karlo himself was the first to praise Lyara's wisdom in buying the flavoring herbs when, on the second night, she used a small stone pot to make a delicious stew of dried meat and tubers. As they sat on the side of the road, warmed by the small fire with full stomachs, he squatted down next to her.
"I shouldn't have disapproved of your visiting the herbalist," he whispered contritely. "I wasn't trained in cooking; and I guess maybe one of us should suggest to Lyndon that he include some classes in making travel fare more than just edible."
Lyara chuckled, pleased that Karlo was actually staring a conversation with her. "I never could stand dried meat as a steady diet. Vandor, my former master, always used to show us how to use herbs to make even the blandest foods tastier. He used to say that bland food will sit like a lump in your stomach and take the edge off your skills, and on a long sea voyage, you have to be ready at all times."
Karlo nodded and took a drink from the bladder of ale they were all sharing that evening. "Your former master was wise there. It's too bad that we don't have cross training. You learned much that is useful to the Guides under your Fishing Master. I trained only under Lyndon, first as a first-year, then as chereti and chatori to earn my freedom-price."
"I didn't know you were bonded to Lyndon," Lyara remarked, reaching for the bladder. "Were you a captive or sold by your village?"
Karlo scowled. "Sold by my family, not a village. I was one too many mouths to feed."
"I'm sorry," Lyara murmured. "I didn't know. Maybe that is worse than being a captive and sold into service." Then an idea occurred to her, and she gave a searching look at her friend before putting it into words: "Did you go back to them after you left the Guides?"
"I even tried my hand at farming for a month, trying to prove to my father that I could be a help to him. But he wanted no part of me, saying I had been gone too long to be able to learn to work the soil. He practically kicked me out of the farm, saying he didn't want to see me again."
Lyara handed him the bladder wordlessly, and Karlo took a long drink of the bitter brew. "I spent a few weeks wandering from place to place, working for a roof over my head and a morsel to eat at night. Finally I put my leathers back on and tried to take on a private contract as personal guide to one of the district administrators. That was the biggest mistake I ever made."
"What happened?"
Karlo shook his head. "I've had too much ale and talk too much. Leave it to say that I spent only three weeks in that man's employ and made tracks back to the city as soon as I could honorably leave his service. Lyndon took me back and immediately sent me out with you."
Lyara settled back against her saddle comfortably. "Nobody searches for you, do they? You seemed so anxious to leave the city."
"I fulfilled my contract to the best of my abilities," Karlo muttered, more to himself than as answer. "If that vermin searches for me, it is for wrongs he only imagines. I don't want to talk about it anymore."
Lyara thought for a moment, and then leaned forward. "I would willingly respect your wishes and drop the subject, Karlo, if I could. You know me; I have no wish to intrude in your life. But as the leader of this group, I have to know if you are in any kind of trouble that could bring danger to all of us. Is this man searching for you?" she repeated.
"I don't know," Karlo, retorted sullenly, all of the friendliness apparently gone for the moment.
"If he were, would he be likely to cause trouble for us? Is there a chance that he would be violent?"
Karlo leaned toward Lyara, his face full of earnest entreaty and subtle fear. "I wish I could tell you everything so that you knew what I do, but I swore that I would never speak of what I saw to another living soul as a condition of my release from the contract. I can tell you that the man is dangerous. If he decided not to trust my sworn word and comes searching for me, I can't guarantee that his violence would stop at just me."
Lyara's hand fell to the short sword at her belt. "Did you tell Lyndon of this?"
"Not all of it, no. I couldn't tell him what I didn't know for sure at the time. Besides, I needed to have steady employment again; and the Guides Service was the only place I felt I could serve both myself and the people."
Lyara narrowed her eyes and stared at the flickering flames for a long while. Karlo took yet another deep gulp of bitters. "Where was this man from? Can you tell me that?"
"To the northeast," Karlo sighed in resignation. "About three days' ride through the mountains from where we are going."
"I wish you'd have told Lyndon everything, Karlo," Lyara sighed. "Much as I enjoy having you along as my monitor, right now I wish I only had to worry about getting to the Master Miner's hall and back and not have the threat of unknown danger hanging over me as well." She drew her blade and ran her thumb along the edge to check its sharpness and then sheathed it again. "We'll have to tell Farranby, you know. He has a right to know that he might be in danger."
Karlo stirred the flames with a stick. "Perhaps I should leave you and go back to the city. At least then I wouldn't bring you danger by traveling with you."
"No, that isn't the answer," Lyara said firmly. "I need a monitor on my first contract and you know it. Besides, I'm sure that this will not be the only time I travel with a cloud of danger hanging over my head. But you not only owe Farranby an explanation but an apology."
"You're right." Karlo tied off the opening of the bladder and put it back down on the ground near the others. "But I promise you," he said sincerely, again leaning forward to her and putting his hand over his sword hilt, "if I see any signs of that vermin following us, I'll go off and face him alone, hopefully leading him away from you in the bargain." When Lyara opened her mouth to object, Karlo held up a restraining hand. "I owe you that much. I'll tell you if I have to leave and give you time to get well away. I'll hide your tracks so he won't be able to follow you just to make sure you can't tell anything either. Now we'd better get some rest and leave early in the morning." He moved back to where he had laid out his blankets earlier. "The sooner we finish this contract and get home to the city, the better."
By the afternoon of the third day, the Garkilth Mountains were no longer just a bluish shadow on the northern horizon, but silent, looming and massive above the verdant foothills. The tall, golden plains grass soon gave way to low shrubs and then trees and boulders. Carefully the trio wound its way amongst the foothills toward one of the three passes through the towering peaks. Farranby reluctantly agreed that they would avoid the infrequent and small mountain inns they passed along the way; all three sensing that the fewer people that knew of Karlo's presence in the Garkilth the better. The going was slow and the trail sinuous as they neared the mountain settlement of Changdu.
Lyara signaled a halt just as the trio broke through the last of the covering trees of the forest to enter the whitewashed town. Although it was afternoon, and the sun still high in the sky, there was a chill in the air against which the city cloaks did little to offer protection; and the three had discussed and agreed that they would have to purchase heavier clothing if they were to continue in any comfort. Lyara looked over at Karlo in assessment, and he nodded agreement as if he could read her thoughts. "You and I will ride into town and make the purchases, Farranby," she said firmly. "Karlo, you skirt the town and meet us on the other side tomorrow morning. I want to keep you a secret as much as possible."
"I know of a clearing in the forest about an hour's ride north of town," Karlo responded, pointing to the road that wound out the other side of the settlement. "I will make camp in the rocks on the far side of the clearing and wait for you there." He reached under his cloak and drew out his money pouch. "You might see if you can bargain for some heatstones too. It's late enough that the weather could turn nasty." He tossed the pouch, and Lyara caught it deftly; then he turned and handed the reins of the pack-pony to Farranby.
"Until tomorrow, Karlo," Lyara said quietly, with a strange feeling of dread.
"Enjoy your bed tonight," Karlo tossed back as he wheeled his pony and galloped into the denser forest to the west of the road. Lyara watched him for a moment before clicking her tongue and kneeing Surefoot forward, with Farranby close behind.
Changdu was a clean, airy town with very few of the usual feral dogs fighting for the few scraps of refuse in the streets. The market square had less than ten vendors selling and only about twenty or thirty cloaked and masked housewives bartering for their goods. The hum of commerce ceased as the shoppers and vendors caught sight of the leather-garbed Guide and her companion.
Lyara dismounted in front of a stall of heavy, woven cloaks and thin, thermal garments. With an eye for quality, she quickly chose three hooded cloaks made of the woven hair of the mountain ponies and, after piling them on the bartering blanket, sorted through the thermals until she had six sets of the highly valued shuli silken tunics and undertrousers. These she deposited on top of the cloaks and squatted down in front of the vendor to begin the bartering. "What do you ask for all of this?" she began in the timeworn manner.
The piercing blue eyes of the vendor peered out at her from beneath his hood. "You have chosen only the best, Guide. Eight pieces of specie would be a fair price for these. It will take at least that much to replace them." Once the traditional words of bargaining were spoken loudly enough for any nearby to hear, the vendor leaved slightly forward and whispered, "Make a show of bargaining, Guide, but you may have them all for only three pieces and welcome."
Lyara looked up at Farranby, who was himself looking off in another direction, and then shrugged. "I could have bought the same garments for four pieces in Tandri," she said in the same loud voice as the vendor had used. "I will give you five."
"You forget the cost to bring them here, Guide. Surely you will have me starving before snowfall," the vendor complained in a whining tone. "Seven pieces is as low as I can go without having to forget eating this night."
"Six pieces. That's far more than your entire stock is worth, but I need these."
"Six pieces it is then, Guide, but you beggar me with your skill," the vendor sighed in show of resignation. He put out his hand, and Lyara made a show of putting six golden pieces of specie into his hand. Then both rose and bowed to each other, and the vendor took a cord and bound the garments together, hiding the extra three pieces inside one of the pockets.
"It is better if you rode out quickly, Guide," he whispered urgently to Lyara as he handed her the bundle. "You offend against the local custom of exposing your face to the public, and there are some who would see it no of fense on their part to capture you and label you a wanton and sell you for such an act."
Lyara grimaces, wishing Karlo had seen fit to warn her about the local customs before sending her into town. Surely he had known. "I still need heatstones," she whispered in reply. "Do you have any or know where . . ."
"Heatstones are hard to come by in these hard times, Guide," the vendor whispered back, "but I have these four for only a piece each if you must. I'm sorry they are so small, but Kaivan Korlandoro has been raiding the mines every tenday for months now, and the supply is getting lean."
"Here you are, and I thank you for your help, Goodman," Lyara handed him the pieces from Karlo's pouch and bowed again. "Since you were good enough to advise me, could you say if it would be safe for my companion and myself to shelter the night in your town's inn without fearing retribution for offending against custom?"
"I would advise against it," the vendor whispered, looking about the market square to see if anyone were taking notice of his continuing conversation with the strangers. "The innkeeper would be one of the first to bid for you in a sale, if you know what I mean; and would not be above arranging your capture and sale himself if he thought he could bring a profit."
"Again, thank you for your help and advice, Goodman." Lyara swung herself up into Surefoot's saddle with an easy and practiced motion. "May your gods give you many peaceful days."
"May Kandor of the Peaks keep you safely on the path while you travel in his realm, Guide. One more piece of advice. There is a small shrine to Kandor at the edge of the forest to the north. If you leave a small offering of currency, not only will you gain Kandor's attention to your safe-conduct in His mountains, but you might convince some of the citizens not to come after you."
Lyara nodded her thanks and, after pulling Farranby's sleeve to bring his attention back to the present, kneed Surefoot into a walk. Keeping her head high so as not to show her nervousness, she ignored some of the openly hostile looks from the hooded eyes that followed their progress through the town. "Don't look back, Farranby," she said softly as they passed the last building. "I offended custom by not wearing a hood, and it would not do us any good to let them know we realize our mistake. And we will stop at the shrine of the local god to make and offering in hopes of avoiding trouble."
"If you say so," Farranby said unhappily, "but I was looking forward to spending a night in a comfortable bed away from the wind and stars. I suppose that's impossible now."
"You should have been listening when the vendor and I were whispering right under your nose. Keep your ears open to any sounds that could be riders from town while I make the offering."
As the vendor had said, a low-roofed, whitewashed shrine building came into view as they neared the edge of the forest, and Lyara handed her reins to Farranby to hold as she ducked her head under the low doorway and entered the shrine. Although the windows of the shrine were small, and many of them shaded by tall bushes outside, the late afternoon sunshine still found a way to pierce the interior of the small building and shine on the serene figure of a man in an old fashioned warrior garb that stood against the far wall. Lyara lowered her head in respect for a moment, then dug in her own money pouch for one of the smaller copper coins that she gently placed at the base of the statue. At once she felt calmer and more clearheaded and surprised, for she hadn't realized that she had been as tense or as tired. Giving a final and heartfelt bow, she stepped from the small shrine and remounted.
"Karlo should have been able to make it to that clearing he spoke of by now," she said confidently. "If we ride hard, we should be able to find him before sundown. I don't particularly relish the thought of a night without a meal."
"A lady after my own heart," Farranby grinned. "By all means, let us find our companion that nobody is supposed to know about before either of us perishes from hunger."
The sun was just disappearing below the far horizon, leaving violet and pink streaks splashed across the autumn skies, when Lyara reined in Surefoot. "We must have traveled an hour's worth of distance by now. We had better watch closely for that clearing Karlo spoke of."
"I'll be glad when we find him and can climb into some of those warm clothes you bought this afternoon," Farranby grumbled good-naturedly. "Tonight feels like it's going to be even colder than last night."
"All that easy living in Tandri has made you soft, Farranby," Lyara quipped as she peered into the gathering darkness for any sign that the trees were getting thinner. "I hope we don't end up riding all night because he mis judged the distance or we miss the clearing completely."
Farranby pointed to the left of the road. "No, he judged the distance well," he laughed as the woods parted on the one side of the narrow road and revealed a small, grassy clearing. Huge boulders rested a short distance from the sheer cliff that made one edge of the clearing, seeming to thrust themselves from out of nowhere; and both Lyara and Farranby heard the soft nickering of a pony from that direction. "I hope he has a fire going already," Farranby muttered to himself as he tried to keep himself from shivering in the growing breeze.
"Karlo!" Lyara called. "Hello, the camp!" The pony's nickering grew louder, but no answer from the human they expected was forthcoming. Farranby pulled in the reins and whirled his pony to face Lyara. "I had better go in first," she told him, feeling her apprehension grow stronger and stronger as the moments passed without a response from Karlo to her calls. Belatedly remembering her feelings of dread only a while earlier, she dismounted and handed Farranby the reins; then she drew her sword and walked as slowly and quietly as she could to the boulders. Now crouching and wary, she crept around the boulder until she could just see past the huge rock.
Karlo's pony stood unattended and still unpacked where he had left it. Of Karlo himself there was no sign from her crouch, so she slowly straightened up until she could see over the backs of the animals. Beside the unfinished circle of stones that was to be a hearth lay a heap of leather, and Lyara knew she had found Karlo.
She fought the urge to scream for Farranby and run to the aid of her friend, but caution prevailed. Carefully she skirted the camp, looking for signs that the killers who had attacked Karlo still lurked nearby. Hoof prints in the gravel told her that there had been three ponies besides Karlo's, and that all three of them had headed back to the road through the trees. Finally sure that nobody dangerous was still nearby, she yelled "Farranby!" and ran from her hiding place on the edge of the woods to where Karlo had fallen.
Karlo lay where he had fallen victim to swordplay beyond his own capabilities, bright red blood dying his leather tunic crimson. As Lyara fell to her knees next to him and lifted his head, crying his name softly, he opened those eloquent blue eyes and smiled faintly at her. "You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow," he said with a gasp, as the pain in his side stabbed cruelly with the effort of speaking.
"What happened?" she demanded with tears flowing down her cheeks. "Who did this to you?"
"I told you, remember? But they didn't get what they were after," Karlo answered with difficulty, forcing himself to master the pain to continue. "They didn't find anything." His voice shrank to a weak whisper. "In my cloak. Cut the hem. Take the stone and keep it. It must be very important, since I was paid a small fortune to steal it."
Lyara reached for the trampled garment in confusion. "What do you mean? What stone? Why . . ."
Farranby rushed up with a concerned look on his face that turned sober when he saw the amount of blood. "What happened here?" he asked Lyara.
Taking her small dagger from its sheath at her ankle, Lyara slit open the bulky hem of the cloak and removed a small leather pouch from its hiding place. "Is this it?" she asked Karlo.
Karlo nodded weakly, at the end of his strength. "It was an object of worship in the little town we visited, and he insisted I steal it for him before it was sent on to Tandri." He managed in his pain to look a little contrite. "I couldn't resist it . . . told them it had already been sent ahead. He told me never to tell that he had wanted . . ." A spasm of pain cut the words like a knife, and it was a moment before he could get his breath back and go on. "Take it and give it to the Oracle. Surely he will know what to do with it."
"Shh," Lyara shushed him after tucking the pouch into her larger money pouch. "Let me see what I can do to stop the bleeding."
"No," Karlo said, his voice barely audible. "I . . . know I'm dying. Leave me here, and be careful. They might decide to come back . . . watch and listen." He tried vainly to smile. "Stay safe, little sea-goer. I wish . . ." The faint whisper faded, and his eyes fixed on a point behind the trees and glazed. Lyara felt the neck in her arms grow limp. Gently she laid his head back down on the ground and bit her lip to keep from screaming her shock and grief.
Farranby laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in an effort to comfort and express his sympathy. "Did he mean much to you, Lyara?"
"He was my first friend when I entered Master Lyndon's service. We . . . well, it doesn't matter now, anyway." Lyara wiped at the tears with the back of her hand. She stood and looked around the clearing, a vague foreboding tweaking at the back of her consciousness. "Much as I hate to travel at night, I don't think it would be a good idea if we stayed here." She looked down at the still form at her feet and caught back a sob.
Farranby looked at his companion and Guide with understanding. "I know. But we should then take the time to put on some of those warm clothes before we freeze."
Lyara went to her mount and took down the bundled clothes, handing Farranby a pair of the shimmering thermals and a heavy cloak. "We won't stop until we reach the Master Miner's hall; I have a feeling it wouldn't be safe. We have normally three days' ride ahead, and if we travel night and day steadily, we'll be there in a day and a half. The Master Miner should be told of this before we take charge of his daughter for the return, and allow him to hire another Guide if he doesn't want to take any chances with me."
Farranby noted the note of grim determination and gave Lyara a quick glance as he pulled his tunic over the thin clothes he had been wearing. "What is it, Lyara?"
"I don't know," she replied, astonished at herself for the strength of her unease. Although long accustomed to following her hunches, she had never felt so pushed to action before. "I just want to get out of these woods as soon as possible." She jerked her leather tunic over her head and quickly replaced it with the thermal tunic, putting the leather one back on over the breast bindings and silk as quickly as she could. She repeated the process with the trousers; hardly caring that Farranby could be watching. "I've got a feeling that we haven't seen the last of our troubles yet."
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