Set in Stone (18 page)

Finally, I did something good with it
.

He couldn't explain how it had replenished or how it felt right again. He'd never tried to understand it much in the past, but that ignorance could prove a very real danger. He'd have to pay more attention to its ebb and flow in the future instead of just trying to banish it from his thoughts.

After grabbing the bowline before the barge floated out of reach, he tied it to a nearby fallen tree, and returned to Shona. He lifted her into his arms and her eyes snapped open.

"What are you doing? Where are we?"

"Good morning," he said cheerfully as he carried her to the waiting barge. "Glad you decided to wake up today."

She frowned. "Put me down."

He dumped her onto the barge. She squawked and flailed her arms and legs but couldn't keep from plopping down hard on her back side. With her sodden clothing clinging to her, the effect was tantalizing.

Shona surged to her feet, but Connor was ready. When she opened her mouth to shout, he shoved a large chunk of his mother's bread into it. She gagged, retreated, and yanked the bread out. She started to speak again, but paused, looked down at the bread, and took a huge bite. While she chewed, Connor untied the bowline, pushed the barge out into the river, and leaped aboard.

He handed her the sack of food and she didn't bother to speak for several minutes. While she devoured everything, he set the long barge oar and maneuvered them out into the center of the current. He'd poled unwieldy barges across Loch Wick a few times and knew enough to avoid running it aground.

Shona finished her meal and sat back against one gunwale on a plank bench, her face tilted up to the sun, and for several minutes she remained silent, just basking in the mid-morning warmth. Sitting like that, profile to him, she looked younger somehow, and less intimidating.

Connor tore his eyes away to check their position in the river and make a minor correction. When he glanced back she was watching him. He thanked the spirits she hadn't caught him staring.

"I'm very tired," she said. "I'm going to rest. Watch for my father's soldiers."

Connor barely held his tongue.
She
was tired?

If sleeping exhausted her so much, she should try staying awake a little more often. But she was High Lord Dougal's daughter, and she could sleep all she wanted. It was her right.

"How can I tell if anyone I see isn't a Grandurian?"

Shona slid down to the deck and pillowed her head in her hands. She said softly, "They'll be wearing my father's colors, of course."

"Blue and green, right?"

Her only response was a soft snore.

They floated south through the morning and when the sun cleared the eastern mountains, the air turned hot. Connor's hunting leathers dried and he started wishing for a canteen of water. He dipped his hand into the river a few times and slurped some, but it wasn't enough, and river water didn't taste great.

Just past noon, as they rounded a long, slow bend, Connor spotted a man standing on the bank who looked a lot like the nervous, skinny fellow in Ilse's troop. For a second Connor thought the Grandurians had caught them, but even as his heart sank, he realized it was a different man. He wore similar baggy pants, although green, and he carried a pair of long-knives at his hips. His close-cropped hair was black, not blond.

Connor held his course in the center of the river. The man waved hard, and two soldiers dressed in chainmail much like the Grandurians joined him on the bank. Movement under the trees beyond the bank suggested more soldiers lurking there. One of the soldiers carried a bow.

The men wore black leathers under their armor, so they didn't look like High Lord Dougal's men. Their helms covered their heads, so he couldn't see if they were blond-haired Grandurians or not.

No normal soldiers could have outrun them downriver, but who knew what Petralists could really do?

As he drew even with the men on the bank, the first one cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, "Pull in!"

Connor shouted back, "Who are you?"

The archer knocked an arrow and drew, but did not release. The first soldier shouted, "By order of High Lord Dougal, pull in and be boarded."

Connor frowned and held his course. Could he trust them?

"No, thank you."

The archer let fly the arrow. It struck the barge several feet in front of Connor. Not a terribly good shot. The barge was wide and the gunwales low, but he could easily lie down on the deck and they'd have a hard time hurting him.

"Pull in," Shona said. She'd awakened finally and sat up to study the soldiers on the bank. "Those are my father's men."

"Your father's colors are black?"

"Of course not, but these aren't regulars."

That made no kind of sense, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. The archer drew another arrow, so Connor shouted, "I'm pulling in."

He aimed the barge for a rocky beach and as they approached, dozens of soldiers appeared from the trees and moved to meet them.

"I hope you're right," Connor said softly to Shona.

She tossed her bedraggled hair back from her face and smiled. "I'm always right."

Connor decided not to answer.

Chapter 17

A thick-chested man, his face all hard lines and sharp angles, stepped to the front of the assembled soldiers. He looked as tough and unyielding as the north face of Mount Ingram, and watched Connor with one hand resting on the hilt of a wide-bladed sword. He wore black battle leathers like Erich and Anika, which made Connor even more nervous.

As they approached the shore, Shona climbed to her feet. The big soldier took a step forward and his face split with a smile. "Lady Shona!" He had a deep voice, rough like gravel shaken in a wooden box.

She waved to him. "Captain Rory, it is very good to see you."

The barge plowed into a submerged tree and lurched hard to port. Shona pitched to the side and would have fallen overboard, but Connor lunged forward and caught her around the waist. The two fell back into the bottom of the barge, arms and legs tangled.

Shona passed out again. Connor rolled clear, and turned back to check on her. The shining steel tip of a sword appeared in front of his face and rested against his throat. He froze then slowly looked up. The big captain stood over him, frowning.

"What are your intentions with the Lady Shona, boy?"

Connor held very still. "Nothing, sir. I mean, well, she almost fell out of the boat and I just pulled her back in. Didn't you see?"

Captain Rory grunted and glanced down at Shona's unmoving form. "Then why is she unconscious?"

Connor started to shrug, but decided against it with that sword pressed so close to his throat. "She's been doing that a lot."

Rory withdrew the sword and sheathed it in a single, fluid motion. He waved, and soldiers swarmed over the side of the barge. Two of them flanked Connor while the captain directed the others to transfer Shona to shore. The soldiers beside Connor pushed him along after.

On shore, more soldiers appeared until nearly a hundred of the hard-faced men clustered around the newcomers. Most of them wore chainmail coats, but five were dressed in black battle leathers like Rory. Despite the lack of steel on their bodies, the burly soldiers radiated power. Connor instinctively feared them more.

At the edge of the clearing, one fellow stood apart from the others. He dressed in simple leathers much like Connor's hunting clothes. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and his eyes seemed to glow from within the shadow covering his face.

An elderly fellow with graying hair wearing a long, tan healer's coat, trotted over to Shona, followed by a brawny lad who looked a little younger than Connor. The lad carried a large wooden box and wore a sleeveless tan tunic. He set the box down and folded open the top, revealing several levels of shelves holding a variety of brown glass bottles, wicker baskets full of herbs, and fat rolls of bandages.

While the healer began examining Shona, Captain Rory called Connor to one side. "What's your name, lad?"

"Connor, sir."

"Well then, Connor, tell me how came you to be floating this river alone with Lady Shona?"

Connor explained about his capture and their long march upriver. Thankfully the big soldier did not ask about why he was on the river in the first place, and Connor left out his deal with the Grandurians. When he mentioned the theft of the granite powder, Rory cursed and his powerful hands clenched into fists.

"I'd hoped to re-supply from that barge."

Connor really didn't want Rory angry anywhere near him so he added quickly, "You wouldn't have gotten anything. There was nothing on board but the granite."

Rory stared at him as if he'd gone mad. Then he blinked a couple of times and said, "Right. I forgot."

Forgot what?

"Go on," Rory ordered.

Connor was about to relate the fight with Anika by the river when Shona joined them. She looked more alert than he'd seen her all day.

"Nice story. You just left out the part where you were conspiring with them to escape across the border."

The captain frowned at Connor and growled, "You lying to me, boy?"

"No, sir. I'm not lying."

"So you're calling Lady Shona a liar, then?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then in what way were you conspiring to help the enemy?"

Connor had to fight to keep his voice calm and not start shaking with fear. "I did promise to show them how to get through the mountains, but that was before I knew who they were and what they were doing."

"These mountains are impassable."

"Usually," Connor corrected in a small voice.

"They can escape?"

"No. We didn't get upriver far enough to show them the trail. They'll never find it alone."

Rory frowned. "How could a bargeman know about a secret pass across the mountains that no one else has ever heard of?"

"I'm not a bargeman. The last couple of months, I've apprenticed as a hunter. I know these mountains better than anyone."

Rory frowned again, "Stones take it, lad, what were you doing on a barge the night before the Sogail?"

That question triggered all of Connor's fear and frustration and he blurted, "Because the Curse Finders were late!"

Rory's frown deepened on his craggy face and the five burly, leather-armored soldiers standing nearby drew closer.

"You're Cursed?" Shona asked. She looked at him as if really seeing him for the first time.

Oh, I'm so grouted.

He'd kept the Curse secret so long, how could he now blurt it out in front of a group of strangers? Then again, they weren't recoiling in horror like the villagers of Alasdair likely would.

Connor swallowed a lump of dread and said softly into the silence, "That's why I was on the barge. I have to reach Merkland today."

Rory shook his head slowly. "You're in a fine pickle, lad. High Lord Dougal's not in Merkland."

Oh, no.

Connor had never considered the possibility.

How could the high lord not attend the Sogail? How could he grant Teagair to the families of Merkland?

Connor looked from Rory to Shona, close to panic. "Where is he?"

"He is expected from Donleavy soon on the Speedcaravan. Probably will arrive today, but he won't tarry in Merkland, not with this Grandurian threat. After you've answered the rest of my questions, you'd best head downriver fast, lad. Maybe you can catch him."

Shona turned away. "My father spends too much time with the king."

"It's not my place to say, miss, but sure as our lives, when he arrives, he'll be wanting a victory here."

"He'll get one. They can't escape."

"Do they know about the quarry?" Rory asked.

"They do," Connor said.

Rory frowned. "That complicates things. Time to move out. Maybe we can intercept them before they reach Alasdair."