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Authors: Megan Lindholm

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BOOK: The Luck Of The Wheels
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'It means any wainwright who can build a square corner,' Vandien contradicted her irritably. He dipped his finger in the wine, idly drew on the tabletop with it. 'Don't get so stubborn and set in your ways. Just because he built the last one doesn't mean he has to build the next one. I don't think we should go back north. Even if this Duke's iron hand bothers you. It's just another set of rules to get used to. We can manage.'

A tired smile broke on Ki's face. 'Listen to us. What's happened to your impulsiveness, that devil-may-care attitude?'

'A Windsinger scared it right out of me. And you're a fine one to talk. What's happened to all your cautions and planning? You're talking about walking back into the lion's den.'

Ki refilled both their glasses from Vandien's bottle. 'My caution isn't gone,' she revealed after a sip. 'I'm just regaining it. We've worked too far south, Vandien. It's been obvious since we crossed the border into Loveran. I don't have any contacts here, I don't understand the coins, I detest the regulations, and I don't know where the roads go, let alone how safe they are or where the short-cuts are. How can I make a living down here? We've been in sunny, dreary Keddi for a week now, with no offer of work. What happens if we don't get work?'

'We'd survive.' He sipped the wine, grimaced.

'How?'

'By the luck of the wheels, Ki! Just as all the other Romni survive.' He paused and looked at her shrewdly. Ki narrowed her eyes warily, but he opened his wide, declaring the innocence of his intentions. 'Look. Let's compromise. For a month, let's live by our wits. Seeing new places, no delivery dates, no pushy customers, no spoiling cargoes. For a month.'

'In a month, we could starve.'

He gave a snort of disdain. 'I never starved in all the years before I met you. Lost a bit of weight, learned to be charming to strangers, and not particular about what I ate or where I slept, but I never starved.'

'We can't all be stray cats.'

'No? Let me teach you how.' He made the offer with his most persuasive smile. His dark eyes, brown half a shade short of black, were inches from her green ones.

'And at the end of that month?' Ki asked coolly.

He leaned back with a sigh. 'If we aren't successful, then we'll go back to the wainwright in Firbanks and get a new wagon.'

And take up my old trade routes,' Ki bartered.

Vandien emptied his glass, winced at the taste, and then shook his head. 'No. The first Windsinger who heard of us would report it to Rebeke. She wouldn't let us go again.'

'If we were careful,' Ki began, leaning forward and speaking quietly but intensely. 'If we were cautious ...'

Are you the teamsters for hire?'

Their heads turned in unison. The speaker was an old man. No. With a start, Ki realized that the man standing by their table was only a few years older than she was. It was his eyes that were old, and his voice. He looked as if some task had so wearied him that he had already spent the years of his mind if not his body. Like the child-mystic she and Vandien had seen in Adjutan, who could recite all six thousand of the sacred verses of Krinth. Ancient, weary eyes.

'We are,' said Ki. 'Not any more,' Vandien chimed at the same instant. The man looked confused. Ki kicked Vandien's booted ankle under the table.

'We may be. It depends on the cargo, the distance, the road, and of course, the coin involved. Please, share our table and wine,' Ki invited him graciously.

Trelira had seen him enter, and was setting an extra glass at the table before he was seated. 'Brin!' she greeted him, smiling pleasantly and kissing his cheek. But her eyes darted past his shoulder anxiously. 'You didn't bring Gotheris?'

'No. I left him at home this time, with Channry.'

'Oh.' Trelira paused overlong, and Ki wondered what she wasn't saying. 'Well. Do you have enough? Something to eat? Well. Good to see you, Brin.'

After each shake of their heads, Trelira had paused, but when at last she could find no excuse to hover by their table, she departed. Ki noticed that almost immediately she was back, raking smooth the sand floor by the next table. Old gossip, Ki thought to herself, and ignored her.

'I am Brin, as Trelira has let you know,' the old man began. Vandien had filled his glass for him, but Brin made no move to touch it. 'Your names are not known to me.'

'Ki. And my partner, Vandien. You were asking if we were for hire. We are. What cargo?'

'Well. Not cargo, exactly. Tell me, have you any children?'

Vandien glanced up, startled, but Ki answered succinctly for both of them. 'No.'

'Aah. I see. Well, then, that might affect how you might feel about... you see ... I have a son. Gotheris. He is come of an age to be put to a useful trade. Years ago, when he was but a tiny child, he showed certain instincts and skills that made my brother, Dellin, most anxious to have him as an apprentice. Dellin is a Jore-healer, you see, a skill that has been long in my family, though not one I chose to follow. So we agreed that when the time came, Gotheris would be apprenticed to him. At that time, Dellin lived in Dinmaera, and we saw him more often. But since then, he has moved to Villena, and so it has been several years since we have seen him.'

Ki and Vandien exchanged puzzled glances. What had all this to do with a freight haul?

'We've had word from him over the years. And I recently sent a message to him that the boy was ready to learn now, and that idleness could only teach him mischief. So he has sent back to me that he is ready to receive the boy at any time.'

'You want us to take your boy to Villena?' Vandien guessed.

'Yes. Exactly. I am willing to pay you three georns now, and at his arrival Dellin would pay you another full orn.'

'No passengers,' Vandien said flatly. The cuddy was simply too small a space to share. But Ki raised a hand in a 'wait a moment' gesture, and asked quickly, 'What can you tell me of the roads to Villena this time of year? I won't pretend that I'm familiar with them.'

Brin looked unshaken by her admission of ignorance. 'The roads are well marked, but they are caravan roads, soft and sandy, more difficult for a wagon than for men and beasts. There is only one river, low at this time of year, but it has eaten its way deep into the grass plains. The banks of the river are high, steep and rocky. Bridges do not stand in flood time, as has been proven many a time. So all folk go south to the fording place at Rivercross, and then north again to Villena. It is not an easy journey, but the ways are clearly marked, and there are good inns at the towns. It is a journey of, say, ninety kilex, which is ...' Brin paused, converting the distance into time in his mind. He shrugged. 'Perhaps fourteen days for a wagon, if one takes it at a pleasant pace. There were rumors of thieves and rebels along it last year, but the Duke sent his Brurjan patrols to clean them out. It is a heavily travelled trade route, so the Duke keeps it free of trouble.'

'If there's so much traffic between here and Villena,' Vandien butted in despite Ki's scowl, 'why send your boy off with two strangers, instead of with a caravan driver you know, or a trader you've done business with?'

'I ...' The man hesitated, clearly flustered by the question. 'I saw your wagon. It looked like a comfortable, even pleasant, way to travel. He is my only son, you know. And I would rather he went directly to his uncle, without long stopovers for trading and visiting. The sooner he is with Dellin, the sooner he can begin to learn his trade and become a useful man.'

Vandien rubbed his moustache and lips to cover the twist of his mouth. The man's reasons did not sound authentic. But Ki was nodding thoughtfully and asking, And how old is Gotheris?'

'He has seen fourteen harvests,' the man said, almost reluctantly, but then added brightly, 'He is large for his years. The Jore blood does that. He will be a good-sized man when fully grown. And he has Jore eyes,' he added hesitantly, as if they might object to that.

'I see no problems, then,' Ki was saying, to Vandien's total amazement. 'I'd like to meet the boy, though, before we touch hands on this agreement. Is that acceptable?'

A facial tic twitched Brin's cheek. 'Certainly. I will bring him by first thing tomorrow. I will have him bring his things, and I will bring the coins for his passage. That way, as soon as you have agreed, you can be on your way. Acceptable?'

'I'd have to take on supplies first,' Ki hedged.

'Then I shan't bring him by until you are ready. Noon, shall we say? Nothing makes that boy more impatient than waiting. Better not to make him stand about while things are got ready. We shall meet you here at noon, tomorrow. Good evening.'

Vandien frowned after Brin as he vanished through the portal. 'There's a strange man. He doesn't seem to believe we might not take him. And what was his haste? He didn't even pause to finish his wine.'

'Given a choice, would you sit here and drink this stuff? Besides, he takes leave of his only son tomorrow. Such a farewell takes time. What's flustering up your feathers, Van? You questioned him like a jealous lover.'

'Vandien,' he corrected her absently, watching the serving boys pull stiff hides across the portals and peg them into place. A dry wind from across the plains rattled sand against the leather. 'Didn't he seem awfully anxious to be rid of the boy? I think there's trouble in this somewhere.'

'Your tail's just tweaked because we aren't going to run off and start a month of vagrancy tomorrow. You think I'm backing out on our agreement, don't you? Well, I'm not. But why not start the month off with a little coin in hand? Take the boy and drop him off on the way. New places, you said. Well, I'd never heard of Villena until this night. And neither had you, I'll wager. So why not start from there? Trelira!' Ki called suddenly across the room. 'What direction is Villena from here?'

The haste with which the portly caravansary owner trotted to their table betrayed her interest. 'To the south-west, about fourteen days away. It's right on the caravan routes. There's Algona, Tekum, Rivercross, and then Villena. A lot bigger town then Keddi. It was originally a T'cheria settlement, but nowadays there are quite as many Humans there. And a group of Dene have settled at Rivercross. Thinking of going there?'

'Perhaps. Perhaps not. I was just wondering.' Vandien played her out on her own curiosity. 'What are you serving for the evening meal tonight?'

'I've mutton pastries and tubers with onions baked in soft gourds. Barley and bean soup, and a good fresh bake of bread. What takes you to Villena?'

'Nothing, probably.' Vandien replied easily, pressing his leg against Ki's to ask for her silence. 'Brin wanted us to take his son there, but Ki's not much for taking passengers. She likes her privacy. Just curiosity made me ask. Neither of us had heard of the place.'

Ki picked up her cue. 'I'll have the tubers and onions baked in the gourd, the soup, but no ...'

'Goat? He wants you to take Goat to Villena?'

The avidity of the question trampled over Ki's attempt to order food.

'Gotheris was the boy's name, I thought,' Vandien ventured.

'Aye, but he's been called Goat since he was four or five. He was a spry little fellow then, always gamboling about, so full of energy and mischief. There wasn't a mother but wished he were her child, when he was small.' Trelira's eyes journeyed to some dreaming place and remembered some regret. 'Why must children change and grow?' she asked sadly of no one in particular. Then her attention snapped back to Ki, and her eyes went shrewd and businesslike. 'How much did he offer you for the trip?'

Ki opened her mouth to protest this prying, but Vandien hastily pressed a filled wineglass into her hand. She held her words back behind tight lips.

'Three georns and a full orn on safe arrival,' Vandien told her with disarming frankness. His smile made her trustworthy. 'Have pity on a stranger, Trelira. I can't even remember how many georns or horns in an orn. Given the roads and the distance, would you say that's a fair price for the trip?'

Trelira took a deep breath for speech, then shut her mouth and gave a quick nod.

Ki took up her part in Vandien's game. 'I wonder why he doesn't wait until he has friends going that way?' She glanced casually at Trelira.

'They'd know the ... he wouldn't know anyone. Brin doesn't know that many folk here. His land is on the edge of the town, alone but for his sheep and his three sons. His wife's sister was my cousin's wife,' she added, speaking softly to herself.

'Well, we haven't said we'd take him, yet,' Vandien admitted casually. But Trelira was no longer listening. She rose and turned, walking slowly back to her kitchen, her head full of her own thoughts. Ki and Vandien exchanged glances.

'Interesting.' Ki sipped at her wine.

'Nice mess. Brin says his only son, Trelira says one of three. Brin says he wants the boy comfortable, Trelira says he wouldn't know anyone else to take him. Whatever smells funny here, she's got a family tic to it that's keeping her from gossiping. Suppose he's a half-wit?'

'To be apprenticed to a healer?'

'I could tell you stories about healers that would make you believe it,' Vandien offered lightly. Then he shrugged, and became serious once again. 'What else could it be?'

'Maybe nothing but your imagination. Maybe a boy grown too big for home and small-town life. Don't sour the deal, friend, before we've even seen the boy.'

Food arrived, a double order of everything Trelira had mentioned. Ki frowned as the serving boy set it before them. 'What's this?' she demanded.

The boy stared at her as if she were daft. 'Food?' he suggested.

'We didn't ask for any yet.'

'Trelira ordered it for you. Oh, I'm to tell you there's no charge. To give you good strength for an early start tomorrow.'

Vandien raised a mocking eyebrow at Ki. She only snorted, and pushed her share of the mutton pastries onto his plate. He accepted them. 'Still not eating meat?' he asked the soup gravely, smiling behind his moustache.

'Don't push me, friend.' The smell of the pastries was driving her crazy, and her resolve seemed in question. But she'd stick to it, if for no other reason than that he teased her about it. She was breaking her bread over her barley soup when Trelira's shadow fell across the table again. 'Goat,' she began without preamble. 'He's family. I'd never speak ill of him. Those that do, don't know him. That's all. Actually, I wish him a good journey, with every comfort. So I'll add two georns of my own to his passage money. And any trader in town will tell you that adds up to a handsome fee for a trip to Villena.'

BOOK: The Luck Of The Wheels
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