Mastiff (27 page)

“Do you just?” replied the fisherman. “Well, you may talk to the keeper of our public house, for all the good it will do you. The Sign of the Trout.” Without even a word of farewell, the rude mumper walked on past us, past me, without looking up.

Master Farmer sighed. “Rural folk,” he said. “They make you want to move right in and take up a collection to beautify the town square. This is why I took work in Blue Harbor.”

“A friend of my mother’s once told me that a mage who gets in a rut ceases to learn,” Lady Sabine told him as we rode on to the village. “Look at the favor we are doing for you.”

“I have been looking at it,” Master Farmer said. “The writing of that favor begins to look forged to me.”

“You’re being a baby,” Tunstall told him. “There are plenty of mages in the City of the Gods who would be happy for a bit of adventure right now.”

We passed through the last fields and found that our road was the village’s main street. People had gathered there, mots, coves, and little ones, to stare at us. Seemingly strangers were not common. Tunstall spotted the Sign of the Trout and drew up there. It had rails for horses, an interesting touch for a place that doubtless saw very few riders. We hitched our mounts to them. Pounce and Achoo stayed with the horses. The rest of us walked inside the public house.

I had time to see the place was being cleaned by a mot and a gixie before Tunstall ordered, “Cooper, take the door.”

He wasn’t comfortable here, either. I drew my baton and turned my back on the room, standing in the open doorway. Anyone who chose to join the conversation from outside would need to come at me, and I would warn the others. I held my baton two-handed, at hip level, and pretended to ignore all the village folk who stared at me. Achoo came to stand at my side. She could tell things were tense, the local people suspicious of us.

“We need to speak with someone of authority,” I heard Tunstall say. “We were told to ask here.”

“I’m the headwoman,” someone replied. It must have been the heavyset mot who’d been scrubbing tabletops. “Tell me what it is you’re after, whoever you are.”

I heard the crackle of parchment. “I am Senior Corporal Matthias Tunstall of the Provost’s Guard. Here is my pass from the Deputy Provost of this district. My companions and I are on a Hunt,” Tunstall explained. “First of all, the bridge across the marsh seven miles back has been destroyed.”

“We know,” I heard the younger mot say.

“Cork it!” the headwoman snapped. “Go on, Guardsman.”

Tunstall ignored the headwoman, who did not use his rank. “Have you a ferry? We must get across the marsh as soon as possible.”

There was a long silence behind me, so odd it made the skin between my shoulders prickle. Finally the mot said, “Ferries in the marsh? Are you crackbrained, man? There’s no waterpath wide enough nor straight enough for a boat that might fit even half of you folk and your livestock.”

I glanced back. Lady Sabine had drawn herself up at the insult to Drummer and Steady, but the headwoman wasn’t even looking at her.

I looked outside at the gathering villagers as the headwoman went on speaking. “We get about the marsh here as our fathers and mothers did, and their fathers and mothers before them, Master Senior Corporal. They had no bridge to keep their feet dry.”

“That one only brings us trouble—it’s not close enough to bring us good,” a cove said. His voice came from inside. I did not dare turn in case those in front of me tried to attack, but I twitched. Where had this fellow come from? He said, “It’s too far for decent folk to walk. Trouble hereabouts comes on horseback. The bridge be gone, you say?”

“Burned down to the stone piers,” Tunstall replied. He didn’t sound at all worried. Of course, one time I’d thought him dead asleep before his fist lashed out and broke a Rat’s jaw. With Tunstall it’s sometimes hard to tell.

“Then how do you cross the marsh?” That cheerful, casual voice was Master Farmer’s.

“Shank’s mare,” the cove said. “And you’ll need a guide. As you take the north road, seek the last cot on the left, with a shrine to Merscart of the Green on the north side. Ormer will take you on from there.”

I heard the shift of clothing. “How do we know this Ormer is trustworthy?” Lady Sabine asked.

“He’ll be with you, won’t he?” the headwoman demanded, her voice sharp. “He’ll be stranded with you if it comes to that. He’s odd, but he’ll guide you well.”

“There’s another task we’ll require of one of your people,” Tunstall said. “I need a courier to take a letter to the Deputy Provost right away. The matter’s urgent. Whoever you choose must stop for nothing and no one on the road.”

“So I’m to take two of our folk,” the headwoman began, plainly furious by now.

“Three,” the older cove said, interrupting her. “I’m going with whoever takes that ride. Look at them, Beldeal. Dogs on a Hunt, with a noble riding along? They’re trouble, and the trouble might spread.”

Tunstall said naught to that. The enemy had no reason to send killers along the way behind us, or even to think to send killers after us, now that they’d destroyed the bridge. They’d have plenty of time to ride off with the prince by the time we got back to the road called the Rivers Road on my map.

In my mind I saw the drowned oarsmen and their officers, their own ships holding them prisoner as they sank. Where most folk shrank from killing more than necessary, these bloody-handed scuts slaughtered ten as easily as one.

Beldeal snapped, “You lot best pay them—both of them!—well, to make up for them losing the day’s work. And a fee for three horses lost for the time—”

I heard the jingle of coins tossed on wood. When she spoke, Lady Sabine did so in a most elegant drawl. Lady Teodorie spoke in such a way. Hearing it in a voice I loved made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

“What we will
pay
for, woman, is four good breakfasts for my human companions and me, with rubdowns and food for our mounts, and food and water for the cat and the hound who travel with us.” The folk in front of me, who could hear that refined voice, were leaving. For people who lived out in marshland, they seemed to know very well what nobles sounded like. A couple of them, younger even than my brothers, stayed and bowed, pointing to the horses. I nodded to them, and they led our mounts and packhorses around the side of the public house.

“Your riders will be paid by the Deputy Provost,” I heard Tunstall say. “On delivery of my letter, with the seal intact. Be assured, they’ll be fairly rewarded. I’ll want them to go as soon as I write the letter.”

“Leave it to me,” the deep-voiced cove said. “I might slow us down, big as I am, but all will be done as you need it done.”

“We’d prefer you got there alive over getting there a couple of hours earlier,” Tunstall replied. “Cooper, stand down,” he called.

I holstered my baton and went back into the room. Tunstall had taken his writing things from his pack and was working on his report. Master Farmer was talking to a young, plump maidservant, who he soon had in giggles. My lady had left the room. Since I could hear Beldeal’s voice shouting for someone to chop and someone else to bring a ham, I knew breakfast was not coming right away. I found my own table, brought out my journal, and wrote more on our journey so far.

I looked up when my lady returned—she had gotten one of the maids to bring water to a room so she could wash a bit—and when Tunstall gave his letter to a youth of 15 or so and a big man who had the deep voice I’d heard. I went back to work on my journal, having no wish to listen to their orders. The youth looked strong for his age, all rawhide muscle, and the older cove had the air and very short haircut of a former soldier. They would do well if they had decent horses. So would the other messenger they chose. One of them at least would surely reach Arenaver.

I put my work away when Beldeal came in with a loaded tray and joined the others at a large table. For a while all was silent as we ate. Beldeal had sent the two younger mots out of the room once we were served, doubtless not wanting any danger from us to light on them, but she had stayed. The more food that went into our mouths, the more relaxed she got. Seemingly she took pride in her cookery, and the men and Lady Sabine in particular made it plain that they liked it. I ate enough, but I was more worried about Achoo. She paced, huffing like, looking out the open door as if the bridge might turn up out there, with her scent on it. Finally I took my plate and sat on the floor, then called her to me, wheedling her to take bites of my food. Once she tasted the egg pie with herbs, I didn’t have to coax her anymore.

“You treat that creature like she’s a human. Wasting good coin to feed people food to an animal!” Beldeal said.

I’d heard it before. No matter how many times it happens, I always feel ashamed that folk would think I waste money of any kind. I shifted around so Master Farmer was between me and Beldeal’s sharp brown eyes.

“Achoo is a scent hound,” Master Farmer said innocently. “She has more rank in the Provost’s Guard than I do.”

Seemingly Beldeal was one of those mots who had a very narrow view of what was and wasn’t right in the world. “An ordinary cur is of more value than a man?”

I started to bristle when she called Achoo an ordinary cur. Lady Sabine, who’d been seated on one side of me, reached down to rest a hand on my shoulder. I tried to relax. I would not disgrace myself before the lady if I could help it.

Beldeal, like most folk who think theirs is the only way of looking at things, was still gifting us with her opinion. “We have hunting hounds, but they’re nothing special. We can always train another. You dry worlders are a strange lot.”

“Dry worlders?” Tunstall asked.

“You’re going to find out,” Beldeal said. “There’s only one way to reach the eastern end of what the likes of you call the Rivers Road. You’ll be taking the ways through the marsh. Merscart of the Green grants us solid pieces of land out there, but sometimes he takes a few of them back. He’s not inclined to tell us which, or when.”

“Is there a better way around the south end of the marsh?” Lady Sabine asked.

Beldeal cackled. “Oh, no, my lady. There Merscart has married two goddesses, them of the Halseander and the Banas. All three twine together where they meet in water and green.”

Once we’d packed up and were riding south on our way out of the village, Master Farmer remarked, “She’s a splendid cook, but what a disagreeable female!”

Tunstall chuckled. “Pray you never meet my mother, then, if you think Beldeal is no rose. My mother is
armed.
”

“Perhaps we’ll just fight over you, then, in a civilized manner,” Lady Sabine remarked. “No awkward questions about who sits where at the wedding, should one ever come. Just clean and simple swordswomanship.”

“That would terrify me, a battle as a wedding,” Master Farmer said. He looked back at me. “Wouldn’t it terrify you, Cooper?”

I stared out at the marsh, ignoring him. I was starting to get a very bad feeling, based in part on the fact that I could not see the trees or hills that marked the far side. I was certain Tunstall and the lady at least had made note of it, too, but were far wiser than me and chose not to worry about it yet. After all, there was naught we could do. Without a ferry at the road, this was the only way to pass. I hope Tunstall’s report to the Deputy Provost urged her to start rebuilding the old bridge.

We did not have to ride much further before we found an open-fronted shrine roofed and floored in fresh marsh grasses. Birds and creatures fled it as we approached. Lady Sabine dismounted, letting Drummer’s reins trail, and approached the shrine, her hands held prayer-fashion before her.

The three of us still a-horse looked at the simple cot set back against the woods between the village and the shrine. Chickens pecked in the dirt before the house while a goat kept the grass nipped near to the roots at one side. On the other side, far from the tethered goat’s attentions, was a small vegetable garden.

As the most junior Dog, I have always had the job of knocking on the door. I slid down from Saucebox’s saddle and walked up the beaten earth path. I was about to knock when two four-footed dogs, golden brown with white ruffs and pointed muzzles, raced around the goat’s side of the house without a sound, galloping straight at me. I got my baton out, then kept my hands out and away from my sides. I looked down at the newcomers’ feet, not into their eyes. If I met their eyes they would think I was challenging and attack.

Achoo raced toward us even as the strange hounds neared me. “Achoo, no!” I cried. There are some Common words my Achoo will obey when I say them sharp enough. She halted, her fur sticking up, her throat rumbling in a growl.
“Tinggal,”
I ordered Achoo. “They think we’re trespassing.”

I heard the ring of steel being drawn. A glance told me my lady advanced from the shrine, her sword in hand. Tunstall had dismounted and his baton was out. I put up an open hand for them as a signal to halt, wishing they obeyed the same commands that Achoo did. I wanted to know where these hounds’ master was.

“I don’t like Dogs callin’ on me, nor do I care for swords in the fist,” a man called from the shadows under the trees. “Tell the mage I’ll put an arrow through any of yez gullet if he twitches.”

“I’m not deaf,” Master Farmer complained from his horse’s back. The dark blue sparkling fire around his hands faded, but I was beginning to think that meant naught about Master Farmer’s readiness to work. “Do you treat everyone who comes to knock on your door this way?”

“On’y Dogs,” called the unseen cove. “What do you want?”

“We need to cross the marsh,” Tunstall shouted. “Beldeal at the inn sent us to you.”

For far too long, we awaited a reply in silence. Then a tall, skinny young cove walked out of the woods. He was well tanned, with black hair and black eyes. Nature had given him short shrift on his chin, but I doubted the local mots noticed when they saw the muscles in his chest and arms. He wore no shirt, only a pair of breeches and rough old boots. I wondered if he had something for the bugs. They did not bite, but as the air warmed, they made a nuisance of themselves around my eyes and ears.