Beast Master

By J. I. Graham

© 2017 J. I. Graham

All Rights Reserved

Cover art by Kimberlyn Porter, Art Matters

To my husband, David and daughters. Sarah thank you for continually pushing me. Paula and Alanna I am grateful for all the time you spent reading, re-reading and re-re-reading without complaint. Without any of you this would not have been possible.

Saara thank you for insisting I have faith in myself.

Chapter 1

“N’Than, you bloody owe me for this,” Gaitlin complained as he glowered at a farmer sidling past him on the inn’s porch. “Won’t take us long to find a horse for my brother in Silven, you said. Well it’s been two bloody weeks with not a herd in sight and now my horse has thrown a shoe.” He wrestled the slightly warped door open and stomped into the inn’s reception area.

“It’s not his fault that the blacksmith is away,” Rin pointed out trying to wipe the dirt off his feet on the carpet set just inside the inn door. “And the other horses could use a rest.” He flicked his foot, grimacing, as grit puffed up around his feet.

Gaitlin growled something about being stuck in the arse side of Silven as N’Than followed him into the inn’s common room. Gaitlin was going to be a problem tonight, N’Than thought wryly. He envied the guards looking after the horses, happy to be in the stable avoiding the backlash of Gaitlin’s annoyance. He’d like to be with them but he had dragged Gaitlin and Rin along with him so he supposed he deserved some of Gaitlin’s annoyance.

The room contained a few farm hands and a single group of traders huddled near the door. At the far end, near the fireplace lounged a group of men who looked like mercenaries, although one of them, a ragged, scarecrow, looked out of place. He was propped against the wall ignored by his three companions, as he trembled and twitched to some inner beat. The farm hands barely paused in their drinking to acknowledge N’Than and his friends with quick flicks of their eyes. The Traders hunched over their food ate stolidly attempting nonchalance at the presence of both groups of armed men. The mercenaries appeared amused at the traders. One or the other would give a trader a toothy smile if he managed to catch one of the traders’ eye.

This town was very much like the previous ones they had ridden through. Each one had been a little more grey, a little more dusty, a little more worn out. The inns, some in better shape than others, were quiet, few customers in the common room, fewer travellers using the bedrooms. Here the grey weathered walls inside mirrored the outside, in need of a whitewash but the dust underfoot in the common room didn’t puff with every step and the tables were clean

Gaitlin chose a seat in the middle of the room, disdain evident in every movement, from his arched nostrils quivering with contempt, through to his bored, slender fingers drumming on the lightly scared table. The chairs wobbled only slightly as they settled into them.

“Come on, it might not be that bad,” Rin said cheerily, his eyes crinkling into slits. “The food might be good and the drink even better and the girls …” He let the sentence trail off suggestively as he looked around the room hopefully. N’Than wasn’t sure about either the food or the women. The late afternoon sun glowed through the window, divided into small squares, each pane a thick piece of glass. A rare sight, glass in window, even if the glass was barely transparent. Tapers were scattered through the room, necessary to augment the weak sunlight.

The inn keeper bustled over to them, wiping his hands on his apron. It looked like he had been wiping his hands on the same apron for several weeks.

“What de ye want?” he asked, bobbing a quick bow. “Food? We have a stew. Drink? The finest beer this side of the Avant.”

“What’s the Avant?” Rin asked.

“The river ye crossed to get here.”

Gaitlin snorted. “That trickle was a river?”

The inn keeper shrugged. “It’s been hot, dry.”

“Dusty.” Gaitlin finished for him. “Beer, then, and be quick about it.”

“What’s the rush?” Rin asked. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere until the black smith gets back and shoes your horse.”

“I’m thirsty,” Gaitlin snapped.

“We’ll have the stew,” N’Than said. The inn keeper backed away with a frown creasing his round, stubbly face, and disappeared into the back where N’Than supposed the kitchen was.

“Now this is more like it,” Rin murmured to the other two as a young woman, barely into her teens, placed three tankards on the table.

“Careful,” N’Than murmured back and nodded towards the bar. The inn keeper had reappeared and watched them from behind the bar, or maybe he watched the young woman. Above his head, lined up like soldiers before an attack, were glasses. Thick skinned and lumpy, awkwardly shaped, they gleamed fitfully in the dim light; surprisingly ugly to be displayed in such a prominent spot. Maybe the broken pieces were what was used for the window.

“Me ma’s work,” the girl said proudly, wiping up a small spill before leaving them.

“Do you think the inn keeper likes them there?” Rin asked with a smirk.

“Family is the very devil,” N’Than said with a laugh before downing half the mug. “Gods, if this is the best they can do, I don’t want to try the other stuff,” he sputtered.

Gaitlin pounded him on the back with one hand while carefully sipping from his tankard with the other. “I don’t know,” he said. “If you don’t guzzle it, it’s not so bad.”

The girl returned with their stew. Rin patted her backside which surprised her. She put the dishes down quickly and skittered away. Her father glowered at them.

“That one may be a bit of a challenge for you Rin,” Gaitlin said with a smirk.

Rin shrugged, “All women are a challenge, Gaitlin. That’s what makes them interesting.”

They ate the food, filling, but plain, talking in a desultory fashion. All three of them ordered beer after beer. Eventually they started a game of dagger and circle. Drawing a circle on the table and then standing with their back to the table trying to get their daggers into the circle, betting on the outcome of each throw. The inn keeper’s face got longer and longer as their daggers thunked into the wood. The other drinkers watched sullenly as they jerked their daggers out of the increasingly splintered table top and arguing over whether the dagger was in or out of the circle. That eventually paled on them. Rin paid Gaitlin what was owed, grumbling about his luck. N’Than had broken even, losing as much as winning. A peddler slipped into the room, his box of goods around his neck. Scarves fluttered from the strap holding the box.

“Silk scarves; silver pins; fine leather belts,” he called as he wandered around the room. “Something for your sweethearts?” he asked the three young men.

Gaitlin leaned over to finger a scarf. “You call this silk?” He pulled at the scarf, forcing the peddler closer to him.

“Sir, sir,” the man said as the strap cut into the back of his neck.

“If this silk, then I’ll eat it.” Gaitlin said, jerking the scarf and the man closer.

Rin laughed drunkenly and jerked at another scarf. The peddler teetered. Rin jerked again and the man fell over, his box hitting the table and splitting along one side. All his goods spilled out on the floor. N’Than jumped to his feet to avoid having the peddler fall into his lap, stepping into the mess on the floor.

“Have a care,” the peddler cried.

“For what?” Rin asked, pushing the mess on the floor with his foot.

“My goods, you’re ruining my goods. Who’s going to pay?” the man snapped, trying to desperately gather his wares before the three young men stamped over them all.

“This stuff isn’t worth anything,” Gaitlin sniffed.

N’Than, bored with all the commotion picked up a ribbon that had twined around his ankles. It was already fraying, a shabby piece of merchandise. He let it float away. The man climbed to his feet and charged at him. N’Than pivoted to meet the attack, backhanding the peddler across the face. The man stumbled back, blood dripping from a cut lip. Gaitlin and Rin pulled their swords. “Who’s going to pay for my stuff now,” he whined at them. “No one is going to want dirty cloth and ripped ribbons.”

“That’s you’re problem,” Gaitlin said dismissively.

“Damn Goans,” the vendor said loudly. He turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, to gather up his goods.

Rin and Gaitlin glared around, waiting to see if someone, anyone would help the peddler. The other patrons quickly looked away. The inn keeper hurried over, a broom in his hands, sweeping the mess towards the door and urging the peddler to leave. The three, with nothing better to do, sat back down. Several patrons scurried out the door, muttering comments about Goan’s as they went.

“We’re not Goan,” Gaitlin said loudly. “Rather, we two aren’t,” nodding at Rin. “And he’s only half,” He finished pointing to N’Than.

“Hey, I don’t look Goan,” N’Than snapped.

“You do, a bit, but your name is Goan,” Gaitlin said smugly. “Anyways from the dirty looks we’ve been getting, it seems anyone who’s not from Silven is from Goan.”

The mercenaries had perked up, watching the whole dismal scene with scornful smiles. Once the peddler was gone, they stood up, the thin man held carefully between two of them. They wandered over towards where the three men sat.

“Where you from if you’re not Goan?” One asked.

“Langdon,” Rin snapped. “We are all from Langdon.”

“Little off the road to Langdon aren’t you?”

“What’s it matter to you?” Gaitlin asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” he man said soothingly.

“Smells like it. Smells a lot like it,” the thin man muttered.

“If you’re going further south and east, there’s a good inn about a day’s ride,” another merc said.

N’Than perked up. “Have you seen any horse herds?”

“There was one, a little further east of that inn,” the merc said easily. “You looking to buy?”

N’Than nodded. The thin man began to shake, his muttering becoming louder and less intelligible.

“Good luck,” the merc said. “We’ve got to get our friend to bed. He’s not too well.” The mercenaries nodded towards the three and towed the thin man out of room.

N’Than turned back to his friends. The other two were watching the bar maid. Rin finally muttered something to Gaitlin who laughed. All of the other patrons had left leaving Gaitlin, Rin and N’Than in the common room.

“What’s going on?” N’Than asked.

“Rin’s going to try his luck with the girl,” Gaitlin said nodding towards their friend, as he made his way, none to steady, across the room.

Rin fetched up beside the girl, his arm flopping over her shoulder. “Now that we’re alone,” he said enunciating slowly, caressing one breast. “Why don’t we get better acquainted?”

The girl tried to get away but Rin pressed her back against the bar. “Come on now. I know that you aren’t that shy.” He laughed drunkenly.

The girl whimpered as Rin leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on her face. She turned away at the last moment so he got her ear instead. “Don’t pretend to be so shy,” Rin said impatiently.

“Rin, leave her alone,” N’Than said getting up to take his friend by the shoulder and pull him away.

“Why, she wants to earn a little something on the side. Don’t you sweetheart?” Rin muttered.

The girl’s eyes were huge as she slowly slid away.

“N’Than, let Rin have his fun,” Gaitlin said. “It might be her only chance to have a roll with someone who doesn’t smell like horses or is covered with dust.”

“Leave her Rin. She’s not interested,” N’Than said coaxingly. “Come on to bed. We’ve finally got a lead on a horse herd. The blacksmith will be finished with your horse by early morning and we should be able to make it to the town before noon. Someone there will be able to take us to the herd”

Rin wavered, but N’Than grabbed his arm and slung it over his shoulder, turning him towards the door and the stairs which led to their rooms upstairs.

Chapter 2

“Where did he come from?” Gaitlin pulled his horse to a sudden stop. The Silven grass lands spread endlessly before them. The parched grass bending before the ever present wind. Hot and dry, stealing all the moisture from the air and the ground. Gaitlin pointed to a man, standing alone, arms outstretched staring at the sky.

“Do you think he’s from the town we just left? What was it called?”

“Eastwick, I think,” Rin said from further back.

“Right Eastwretch more like. I didn’t think a village could be so dismal,” Gaitlin groused. “Are you sure there are going to horses for sale in the next town? How much longer are we going to look for them?” Gaitlin turned around to ask N’Than.

N’Than’s horse, Socks, lunged at Gaitlin’s. N’Than shortened his reins and circled Socks so he wouldn’t bite the other. The beggar meanwhile stood with his arms held out to either side, embracing the empty prairie, the very empty prairie. He reminded N’Than of someone he had seen recently. The elusive thought fled.

“The town can’t be much further east,” N’Than said. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Detour into Silven and pick up a horse for his brother’s birthday. Except they had ridden for days into increasingly barren land and the horse herds they searched for were conspicuous by their absence. Even the tip from the mercenary last night was turning up empty. His companions were getting restless and supplies were getting scarce to find. The little villages didn’t seem to have enough for their own inhabitants much less visitors. If they didn’t find some horses soon they’d have to turn back.

“Maybe he’s the welcoming committee,” Rin suggested.

N’Than snickered, as the man suddenly dropped his arms. There was a slight shiver to the air. Socks reared suddenly, squealing as men, lots of men, shooting arrows, riding horses, yelling, appeared where there had only been gently bending prairie grass. N’Than clung desperately to his startled horse. He jerked at his sword but it wouldn’t come free. Damn it was tangled in the tails of his new jacket. Rin, behind him, gave a funny high pitched scream. N’Than, bewildered by the confusion of horses and men, shouts and the clash of metal on metal, felt his horse stumble and tried to twist off before it fell on him. He hit the ground hard. His head smacked a rock.

“I was beginning to think that you were never going to wake up,” a woman’s voice said softly.

N’Than lifted his head and struggled to open his eyes to see who belonged to that gentle voice and cruel probing fingers. He jerked his head aside with a moan.

“Hurts, does it?” Her voice sounded close to his ear. “Stay still. I can’t help if you keep moving around.”

His head started to feel warm which quickly escalated into a burning sensation then ceased. He gasped in relief.

“Sorry about the pain.”

N’Than brought his hands up, intending to rub the crusted blood from his eyes, and realised they were bound together. She didn’t sound all that sorry, he thought, as he started picking at the blood keeping them shut. The woman batted his bound hands away and gently rubbed his eyelids with a wet cloth. He finally managed to get them partly open. The woman knelt beside him her dull brown hair obscuring her face as she rinsed off the cloth. He watched groggily as her small, strong hands wrung out the cloth.

“Where am I?”

“In the slavers’ camp. They brought you in late yesterday.”

“My friends?”

“Don’t know. You’re the only one they brought in.”

The pain in his head spiked in waves with every breath he took. His friends wouldn’t have left him like this, so they must be dead. He tried to remember what had happened but the pain took him again.

When he woke a second time, his head hurt only when he moved. His hands and feet, though, throbbed with so much pain there was no way he could get up. Muddled by the pain he lay there as ragged pieces of memory flitted through his mind.

With three companions and three guards, he had left Goan for Silven. He should have gone home to Langfestol, the capitol of Langdon, but he wanted to buy a horse for his brother. Everyone knew that the Silvens bred the best horses. Although both Goan and Langdon shared borders with Silven, it was faster to go south from Goan into that part of Silven which was prairie than ride east into Langdon then south through the forest boarding Goan and Silven and then west into the prairies where the horse herds were.

Although it would add weeks to the journey, he wasn’t in a particular hurry to get home. It was only late summer; fall and its rain was a distant worry. There was enough time to pick up a horse and arrive home for his brother’s mid-fall birthday. His aunt had tried to talk him into taking more guards but at the time, standing on the front step of the keep, it had seemed silly.

Another memory oozed to the forefront. Gaitlin was complaining about the last village they had visited. Then Socks reared, squealing, and he fell. That explained why his head was pounding; he must have hit it when he landed.

Shards of memory began to form more quickly. There had been bandits. After being on the road for a week all they had seen was wild life. Maybe that should have clued them in. No horse herds, no dealers, nothing but the seared grass and dusty half deserted towns. The three were confident that with their guards and themselves they’d be have not problem with bandits, sure to be badly armed with no disclipine. But they must have gotten sloppy, not paid attention to what was going on around them. Except he was sure the plain had been empty and then it was full of men. No, not empty. When they came over the slight rise, and this piece cut hard, he remembered the man standing there with his arms up stretched to the heavens. A ragged figure barely able to stand. Gods! The mercenaries that had tipped him off to the horse herd had a ragged man with them. They weren’t mercenaries but slavers and the shambling wreck had been a mage. The mage must have covered them with an illusion. You couldn’t have hidden that many men and horses without some help. The rest of it came back in a rush, what little he could remember of the fight. Now it wasn’t memory. He was in the slaver camp. N’Than tried to get to his knees but that caused everything to swim and then go black.

The next time he woke, it was dusk. Numol, half way up the sky, was already staring balefully at Leoht as she peeked above the opposite horizon. Around him he could hear the sounds of a camp getting ready for the night; dogs snarling and growling, fighting over something, men laughing and arguing and a quickly stifled woman’s shriek. He tried to swallow but his mouth and throat were so dry that he couldn’t raise any saliva. Now he was thirsty, hungry, and he still hurt. It took him multiple tries to sit up to look around. The slavers camp was not large, three, maybe four, scattered fires glimmered through the deepening gloom. That effort caused his head to pound so hard that he collapsed against the wheel of a wagon near him. He inhaled coarsely powdered grass mixed with dust and choked.

“Here, drink some of this.” The woman’s voice came from beside him. He turned his head but all he could see were bare feet, and the dirty hem of a skirt. The woman crouched down beside him and pushed a hank of short, greasy, brown hair away from her face. She managed to get him to a sitting position. N’Than’s nose wrinkled from the smell emanating from either her clothes or her. Both were filthy, but she was strong, he had to give her that. She pushed a container into his bound hands but they were too clumsy to hold the container. He whimpered as the container started to slip, spilling the water.

“Hey, you! If you want to sell him as a slave you’d better untie his hands. They’ll fall off soon if you don’t,” she yelled towards a group of men sitting by a fire. She caught the container before he could spill all the water. “Here, let me do it,” she said, sounding irritated. She held the container to his lips and he gulped the water.

“Bitch, leave him be,” bellowed one of the men angrily.

“Fine. His hands will be useless shortly and then he’ll be useless and Angris won’t be pleased,” she snapped back.

In a daze, N’Than watched a heavily bearded slaver stomp over and wondered who Angris was. The man pushed the woman roughly aside and examined N’Than’s hands. N’Than didn’t think it was possible for someone to smell worse than the woman, but this man did. His clothes were patched and drab, except for the belt. N’Than peered closely at the belt. He was sure that had been Rin’s belt. He remembered mocking him because it had been woven out of the brightest reds and greens that N’Than had ever seen. Rin had been a bit of a peacock. N’Than couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Grunting, the slaver pulled his knife from what had been Rin’s belt and N’Than flinched. The man laughed hoarsely.

“Scared it’ll slip, are ye?” He cut the rope binding N’Than’s hands then retied them slightly looser.

“If you don’t want to carry him, you’d better retie his feet as well,” the woman said. Her face appeared expressionless under the grime, except for her eyes, grey chips of ice.

Gods, she was hard, N’Than thought, trying to hold himself still. She shouldn’t bait him.

“Don’t think we’re going to coddle ye,” the slaver said as he re-tied his feet. “Remember, we can ride faster than ye can run.”

N’Than felt a prick in his groin and tried to twist away. The jab came again and N’Than thought he’d never take another breath before the bandit left whistling to join the other’s around a fire.

“You’ll need to work your fingers. It’s going to hurt but the sooner you do the better,” The woman spoke below the raucous laughter of the slavers. N’Than almost missed the disgust that flickered across her face as she watched the slaver settle down with his friends. “You might have already lost some movement,” she said, her face now bland.

N’Than’s face flushed as he heard the men’s mockery, punctuated with harsh giggles from the women hovering over the men. He tried to clench his fists. Pain shot through his hands and he moaned.

“That’s right, keep trying.”

“Who the hell are you?” N’Than got out in a shaky voice. “Friend of theirs?”

“I know it hurts but you’ve got to do it. Can you wiggle your toes? And my name’s Tia,” she said sounding exasperated and not encouraging at all. Not older than him, he thought, her grey eyes were disinterested as she watched him.

N’Than gasped, trying to stifle the moan. His toes felt like they were burning. His hands felt like they were burning. “Who’s Angris?”

“The leader of this group of merry men. He’s a sight better behaved than the rest of them. He even has a modicum of strategy, but that doesn’t stop them from killing who ever resists.” She frowned thoughtfully watching the slavers. “He’s looking for something or someone in particular,” she muttered before looking back at him. “Do you want more water?”

N’Than nodded and she helped him drink some more. He noticed a dark bruise under her left eye, obvious even under the dirt on her face. It highlighted her sharp cheekbone giving her face an austere look. Once the container was empty she stood up. “I’ve got to go and serve these pigs their swill. Keep working on your hands and feet.”

N’Than felt rather than saw her go. His eyes were screwed shut as the burning sensation intensified.

The next day N’Than’s head was so sore he could barely see straight but that didn’t stop the slavers from setting him to work helping the women break up the camp. He had been glad the previous day that his boots had been taken; his swollen feet would have been unbearable in them. It seemed to take forever to break camp. The women scuttled around the camp packing up the personal gear as the men lounged around waiting for them to finish while he was expected to pack the tents. He had never packed a tent in his life before. He unpegged one side of the tent and pulled the ridge pole down, causing the tent to blow onto him. He struggled out from under the heavy canvas to the laughter of the slavers. He tried to fold it but kept missing a peg which meant he had to hobble around to the side where the peg was and pull it and the wind again played with the canvas. When he finally pulled the last peg the canvas started to roll away with him stumbling after it. Finally a slaver pushed him roughly away, ordering one of the women to do the packing herself. N’Than rested on the ground where he fell, holding his pounding head.

“You don’t look like much. Good thing the Bracs pay a lot for Goans.” A swarthy man with a heavy beard and the beginnings of a paunch discernable underneath a jerkin only slightly soiled, said prodding him with his boot. “Hey mage-dog, are you sure he’s what we’re looking for?” the man called towards a cadaverous man dressed in filthy rags which made the slavers look like well-dressed villagers. N’Than recognised him as the beggar that had appeared before him and his friends and a moment later, the thin man from the inn. The slavers must be laughing to themselves over sending him, Rin and Gaitlin, right into their ambush.

N’Than tried to stiffen his spine, tried to look a little less beaten as the mage wandered over.

“He smells of power, Angris,” the mage slurred. “More than she does.” A muscle twitched below the sunken eyes of the mage.

“That’s good enough for me,” said Angris. “I wonder what the Bracs want your blood for,” he mused. “They don’t care what shape you’re in when they get you, just that you’re alive.” Angris smiled genially at N’Than, his yellow teeth framed by his fleshy lips. “Tie him to the woman,” he ordered one of the men who scurried off to do his biding. “You’re sure she doesn’t have much power?” Angris asked the mage. The mage nodded his head, although N’Than wondered if he was agreeing or if the mage couldn’t control his neck muscles. “Don’t matter. She’s not worth as much as him but they have uses for everyone with even a whisper of power. We should be able to sell her for something.”

N’Than knew he should care, but he was too battered to worry about what the mage meant or where they were going. The errand boy returned with Tia in tow. He dragged N’Than to his feet and knotted a line from N’Than’s wrists to Tia’s waist. The slaver with Rin’s belt arrived riding a horse. With a malicious smile, he tied a line from Tia to his saddle. “You’d best keep up bitch,” he said.

If he was looking for some reaction he didn’t get it. Tia looked through the slaver, her face revealing nothing. N’Than envied her composure. His brother was like that. She wasn’t beautiful, maybe if she was clean, and dressed carefully she might be pretty. She was a little too sturdy for his tastes, not the willowy shape he preferred in his women.

The horses were kept to a slow walk. All the slavers rode. N’Than noticed that he and Tia were the only ones that were tied. The other women walked along beside a slaver. N’Than couldn’t tell if that was happenstance or whether they belonged in some fashion to that slaver. He could tell from the sun they were moving east, following a herders trail. It was hot, the sun beating down on them and the prairie around them. The horses kicked up a fine dust and it wasn’t long before he could barely breathe and his eyes watered from the grit continually drifting into them. He started to pray for some sort of breeze, anything that would clear, even for a brief moment, the haze he was slogging through. The deceptively flat terrain was filled with little dips and rises. He and Tia found every rough spot. It didn’t take him long to figure out that she had an amazing sense of balance. And that she was strong. He continually stumbled over his feet but her hand would shoot out to keep him from an actually fall, at least most of the time. She did miss on occasion and then he would fall flat on his face, pulling her down and the two being dragged behind the horse until one of them managed to get to their feet bringing the other up. N’Than wondered how she got so strong. He wasn’t a heavy man, being tall and rangy, but he wasn’t a feather weight either and she was shorter than him. By the time they stopped to eat at mid-day he was so exhausted he could only stare at his feet wondering where his boots were. The water was rationed since the few riverbeds they had passed were dry and with no villages with wells they had only the water the slavers were carrying. It made eating the stale bread difficult but N’Than was in such a daze he barely noticed.

They finally stopped for the evening, just off the trail they were following. N’Than was profoundly grateful. His back hurt because he had been hunched over the much shorter Tia as she had supported him for most of the afternoon. His feet hurt and he was hungry, very, very hungry. The remains of fire pits scattered about showed that it had been used before, but not for a while. A small stream crossed the back of the flattened grass area. N’Than hobbled on sore feet, dizzy, and stomach growling for food; slavers kept him moving with blows from their fists which drove him to his knees and kicks which got him back on his feet. He dug privy pits away from the river, refilled water containers, and scrounged for kindling. He and Tia were the last to eat; they got the remains of what Tia had made, a slurry with small lumps of tough meat, origins unknown. Whatever it was, N’Than was so hungry that he gulped down his small portion and stared morosely into his plate when Tia told him that was all there was. N’Than felt like laughing hysterically when he found himself complaining about no beer. After dinner, he collapsed gratefully against the wheel of the supply wagon; his feet torn and tender with bruises on top of bruises, and his back and sides sore from the pummeling he had taken. The slavers sat around the fire pits settling into some serious drinking their coarse voices a backdrop to his exhaustion. The occasional fight over one of the few women enlivened the evening. A few stars played hide and seek as some clouds trailed across the sky, a line of fire edging the horizon as the sun finally disappeared. He missed the mountains of his mother’s home and the forest of his father’s. The unending sameness was eerie.

“Soak your feet,” Tia said, appearing suddenly in front of N’Than. She placed a pot of water in front of him as he sat in a haze of pain. “We have to get rid of the dirt or you’ll be crippled before the week is out.”

“Hey,” N’Than said startled. “How do you do that? I don’t see you and then you’re suddenly there.”

Tia ignored him and carefully placed his feet in the cold water. It felt good. They sat in silence, N’Than watching the camp in a daze and Tia playing with a necklace around her neck. N’Than could see the mage, bones in rags, weaving his way like a drunk around the tents. One of the women pushed him as he walked by. The mage stumbled to his knees and then fell over onto his side, body shaking with high pitched giggles. N’Than didn’t know much about mages but he recognized someone hopped up on dream weed. The mage finally shambled to his feet and wandered away. He had heard that dream weed was useful for strengthening focus. There had been a captain in his father’s guards who had used it in a bout that had moved him into the elite squad. People whispered that he had to use more and more to maintain his edge. Then one day it seemed his mind was mush and he had gone from being the top soldier to being a slobbering idiot on the castle road, avoided by everyone. It looked to him like the mage wasn’t far from the mushy mind stage and N’Than was viciously glad.

“I’m going to need some rags,” Tia said as she pulled one of his feet out of the water to examine it. “We’ll use your shirt.” N’Than just stared at her. “You’re going to have to tear some strips off your shirt,” she said carefully picking at his sole, her broken nails scraping the raw spots. “It looks like a lot of grass around here but you’ve picked up a small quarry of stones.”

“What?” N’Than said, staring at her.

“Your feet need some sort of protection. I’ll bind them up with strips from your shirt once I’ve cleaned them,” she said exasperated.

N’Than nodded. He took his shirt off and gave it to her. “You’re from Meria aren’t you?” N’Than said. Tia looked up in surprise. “It’s your eyes,” he explained with an encouraging smile. Merian’s were the only ones with eyes that tipped up like that. “You’re a long way from home,” he continued around a wince as she picked at his feet.

“You look Goan,” Tia said curtly, tearing strips of material from his shirt before handing what remained back to him.

“My mother was from there. My father is from Langdon and I’ve lived there all my life. I was on my way to Langfestol when they caught us. It sounds like they were looking for Goans.”

Tia shrugged “I don’t know why. But they kept after the mage to make sure they were going in the right direction. What kind of power do you have?” she asked as she worked on his feet.

N’Than shook his head. “I don’t know what this is all about. I’m more Langdon than Goan and if they want someone with magic they’re out of luck, I don’t have any. Magic isn’t common in Langdon and mages are less than welcome. Who wants a neighbour who can change you into a dog or take over your mind? The dream weed must have addled that mage’s wits.”

“Mages can’t take over minds or turn something into something else,” Tia said dismissively.

N’Than, unconvinced, watched her for a bit. “How did you get here?”

“How do you think? We were attacked,” Tia replied curtly, working on his second foot. She focused intently on it, discouraging his questions. Her expression was closed and unfriendly.

“What were you doing in Silven? You were captured in Silven weren’t you?” N’Than persisted. He inspected his shirt to figure out whether it was worth putting back on.

“Our boat was blown off course and then wrecked,” she replied shortly.

It was like pulling teeth to talk to her. He watched her in silence for a bit. She was being helpful and he began to wonder. Everyone had a reason to help. Maybe she was actually helping the slavers, or maybe she wanted something from him. “Why?” he muttered aloud.

“Why what?” she replied binding up one foot.

“Why are you helping me?” He hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but since he had he might as well pursue it.

“Why not? I’m not a slaver. Preying on the vulnerable, the unwary.” She finished with the second foot, her mouth a hard line before she stood up. She picked up the pot and walked over to the privies to dump the water.

“Well, aren’t you the chatty one”, N’Than mumbled to himself, as he watched her walk away. She carried herself with pride bordering on arrogance, considering she was going to be sold. He grimaced as several of the women made some sort of comment to her as she walked past them. She made the other women look like beaten curs even though they appeared to have an easier time than her, certainly their clothing was less ragged. He doubted they were any cleaner. Her quiet disdain of them and the bandits obviously stuck in the craw of the other women who had thrown their lot in with the slavers. That action rewarded them with a certain amount of freedom. They plodded along beside the horse of their chosen bandit, instead of being tied behind which N’Than could attest was no small thing. They ate and slept with their man, looking after his kit, jumping with downcast eyes at every command and groveling at every joke. In return he protected them from the general group and provided the slim hope that they wouldn’t be sold at the end. They ignored Tia and N’Than, almost as if they feared that being seen with them would ensure they would be sold. Although, it was one of them that chained them every night.

N’Than frowned as he watched one of the slavers snarl at Tia, startled at her sudden appearance. Standing next to the slaver, N’Than was reminded how small she was. She seemed so much taller in memory. She didn’t seem to understand how vulnerable she was. It suddenly occurred to him that the slavers ignored her most of the time unless she was right in front of them. She was not harassed like the other women. Instead she slipped like some sort of ghost around the men, one hand worrying the dull-coloured necklace, almost like a collar, that sat around her neck; a trinket of little worth to anyone but her or the slavers would have had it off her in a trice.

Battered, exhausted, hungry and thirsty, N’Than began to loose track of the days. Shackled each night to Tia, he found himself sinking into the oblivion of sleep as soon as he lay down.

“Do they ever forget to shackle you?” N’Than asked one night as Tia examined the chain attached to her ankle. They had not travelled as long as usual and N’Than was luxuriating in being able to sit quietly.

Tia shook her head.

N’Than glanced around. The moon washed the landscape with enough light for him to see the empty prairie around them. The dry grass made a faint scraping sound in the wind. “There’s no place to run even if they did,” he commented. “If we were traveling through the woods it would be easier.” This camp was the same as the last and, he knew, would be the same as the next. The lack of markers was unnerving to him. He was used to woods and hills, rocks and trees. Shapes which changed slowly from season to season. This great unending plain was like some sort of nightmare. No matter how far they travelled, in the morning they seemed to be starting at the same place as the previous morning.

“Why?” Tia asked. For the first time she sounded interested in what he had to say.

“I know a fair bit about hunting,” he boasted. “I can live in a forest but I can’t see much to eat on this plain.”

Tia gave him a thoughtful look like she half-believed him before she went back to examining her chain. N’Than had tried to break the chain which tied him to the wagon as soon as he could see straight but gave it up because even he could tell it was strong enough to resist. Tia examined both her chains and now she examined his, feeling each link minutely before going on to the next.

“It would take a chisel and hammer to break that,” he finally pointed out to her as she studied his.

“Mmm, yes, well you never know when a link weakens enough. It’s pretty rusty. A little more rust and you never know.” She rubbed her fingers over the chain then showed him the rust on them.

“It’ll take a long time for it to eat through.”

“Perhaps,” she replied indifferently. N’Than watched as she felt around the ground where they were going to sleep. She tossed some of the rocks away and smoothed the dirt preparing to sleep. “We’re moving west, though, and eventually we’ll be near the woods,” she said suddenly. “And the sea.”

“The sea?”

“They won’t chance going through Langdon. They’ll put us on a ship for Brac, or meet the buyer and he’ll put us on a ship for there.”

N’Than startled at her sudden comment, hadn’t realised she knew where they were going. With them being near Langdon, maybe escape was possible after all. At first N’Than was tempted to tell them who he was, thinking they might ransom him; but then he considered that they might just kill him, fearful of the repercussions if they approached his father. That is, if his father was sober enough to unleash those repercussions. But his eldest brother would; if anyone would listen to him, that is. His middle brother wouldn’t, unless there was something in it for him and N’Than would be damned before he owed Qadan a favour. On further thought he realised that even if his father offered a ransom, he wasn’t sure it would be enough. Angris had said that Brac was buying Goans.

Brac was an obscenely wealthy nation, or rather those with money had more than anyone had a right to. The rest of the country toiled in servitude. Slavery was the underpinning of their wealth. It didn’t take much for a Bracian to become a slave. Debts, no matter how trivial, could result in your whole family being sold. Debts, crimes, looking at a more powerful person the wrong way. All this resulted in a society where patronage was what kept families safe. You looked to your patron for protection and he, and it was always a male, looked to his patron. Gods help you if your patron fell to another because all who he held as his were fair game. Brac didn’t need to go outside the country for slaves, yet Angris appeared confident that Brac would pay and pay well for Goans which meant he must have been promised a lot of money, more than what his father might offer. So it was probably up to him to get away.

From then on, N’Than kept looking for the first sign of a forest. He wanted to have some sort of plan as soon as they reached the forest. There was no place to hide or lose horses or dogs on the plain but in woods there might be a chance. He went over and over various plans to escape. As much as he distrusted mages, he thought one might be useful now. Barring that, fog or rain would help him but the sky remained clear. The prairie grass was in dire need of rain. No wonder there were no horse herds. The plains were too dry for this early in the summer. The winter had provided less snow cover than usual and when it had finally melted there was not enough to sink deep into the earth to provide nourishment between rains for the new growth. Then spring had been unusually dry not giving the grass any chance to flourish. Around streams the grass was green, but stunted and could not support a herd. Everywhere else it was bone dry. Pieces kept breaking off and working their way into N’Than’s clothes adding itchiness to the sore feet and constant hunger.

The prairie started to appear a little greener with more streams appearing and disappearing into the ground and off in the distance, finally, a dark smudge of forest. They stopped a little earlier than normal. A suppressed excitement permeated the camp. A few of the slavers went out to set snares, which they had had not time to do before. The women were clinging to their slaver with a desperate air, shrill laughter and coarse jests.

That night N’Than settled himself to sleep, even more exhausted than previously. He had to dig larger fire pits and privies and collect more fire wood, since they were staying for a few days. Worried, N’Than had asked Tia what she thought.

“Angris’ contact must be meeting him here. The women are hoping to make themselves indispensable,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “It won’t be long now.”

“We have to escape before we’re put on a boat,” N’Than said. Time had run out and he had no good ideas. At least he could see the forest, even if it was in the distance.

That night, he waited for Tia as she finished putting the remnants of the meal away hoping she had come up with a plan to escape. All of his plans were useless and consisted of them breaking the chains holding them and running away from the dogs and the men on horses, both parts completely useless. It was a cool tonight. He and Tia would have to huddle together for some warmth. Drowsily he lay back, watching the stars and wishing he could run like a horse or an elk. He’d be able to outdistance a horse easily in the woods. He grinned as he imagined what it would be like.

N’Than heard the scuffle of feet and sat up. Tia was pushed to her knees by one of the women and her ankle grabbed. Tia said nothing as she watched the woman fasten the manacle. The woman jerked hard at the chain, making sure the claps had caught. N’Than winced. The metal must have cut into her ankle but Tia ignored the woman as she settled herself more comfortably beside N’Than. The woman spat on the ground next to Tia before putting the manacle around N’Than’s ankle and attaching both chains to the axle of the only wagon then leaving.

“It won’t be long before the buyers show up,” Tia said as she watched the woman walk away then turned to N’Than. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s planning on selling the women.” N’Than thought he detected a trace of pity in her voice. “The Bracs seem to pay for anyone with power but they’re paying a king’s ransom for Goan’s. I heard Angris complain that there haven’t been many people on the road and they’ve been more heavily armed. So, it seems he may not make much this trip. He was lucky he got you,” she said thoughtfully.

She ran the chain holding her ankle through her hands, tugging on it where it met the manacle and then did the same for his.

“You know, it’s not like rope which could be tied too loosely one day,” N’Than said dryly, shifting around on the ground, looking for the most comfortable position. He pushed aside dirt and rocks until he had an indent that was mostly dirt. That was the best he could do. He sighed wishing he was at home in his own bed.

“True, but have you noticed they never check the chain?” Tia sat back staring out into the falling dusk towards the smudge of trees. “The chains are getting very rusty.” She fiddled with some grass and sticks and then ripped a piece of material from her underskirt and tied the whole thing together. “It’s going to rain tonight.” She turned back to stare at the slavers sitting around the fire, drunken laughter punctuated with the occasional high squeal from a woman.

N’Than looked up at the sky, now spangled thickly with stars and snorted in disbelief. “There hasn’t been rain around here for a while. We’ll need to sleep together to keep warm tonight.” He sat up and widened the indent, patting the ground beside him before lying down and leaving enough room for her. He was too tired to worry about slavers.

“I’m not sleepy yet,” Tia said, sounding distracted but moving slightly farther away from him.

“Well, when you are, I’ve got no objections to sharing,” N’Than replied and composed himself as best he could to sleep. He wished he had taken more men with him, like his aunt had suggested. She had warned that Silven had become dangerous but he’d dismissed her fear. Who would think a land of horse herds and small merchants would be dangerous. Maybe if he had, the bandits wouldn’t have attacked them. Next time he’d take twenty men with him, then see the bandits try their luck with him.

He must have slept because he woke in the dark feeling of rain on his face. Still muzzy with sleep he turned over, reaching for Tia, seeking some warmth, but she wasn’t there. He raised himself up on his elbow confused. In the drizzly rain, he could barely make out the humps that he knew from experience were supplies stored near them. He peered beneath the wagon they were shackled to looking to see if he could see Tia’s shape but couldn’t see anything in the murk. Maybe she had decided that a dry tent was worth sharing a bedroll. No, he couldn’t see Tia taking shelter at the first hint of discomfort. He pulled on her chain and it came easily to his hand, a broken link dangling at one end. He looked stupidly at it wondering why a bandit would break the link and not just unlock the shackle.

“It’s time to go. Let’s hope we get far enough away,” Tia said softly, appearing out of the mist. Her white face hovered above the dark shape of her body. She pushed a sopping strand out of her eyes.

N’Than jumped. “What?”

Tia ignored him and knelt beside him. She grabbed his foot, leaning heavily on his ankle. “Hold still.”

N’Than yelled as something smacked his foot. “Be quiet!” She whispered gruffly. “And stop moving.”

‘What are you doing?” he whispered, jerking his foot away.

She yanked his foot back. “Trying to break the chain,” she growled. She held something up to his face but it was too dark to see. “It’s a rock I found. I had less time to work on your chain but it should break. It’ll take a while for the tents to start to burn and we should be able to get away before the bandits realise we’ve left.”

She brought the rock down again and N’Than tried not to move.

“There!” She said,” you’re free.” There was a sudden yell from the other side of the camp.

“Damn, damn!” Tia muttered under her breath. “Too soon.” She crawled under the wagon and fumbled with something N’Than couldn’t see in the dark”

“What are you doing?” N’Than asked. “We need to go.” He felt along his ankle. There was a short piece of chain connected to his manacle but he thought it wouldn’t get in his way while he ran.

“Just trying to delay them,” Tia muttered. “There, that should do. “She crawled from under the wagon and stood up. “We need to go.” she leaned down and dragged him to his feet. He looked wildly around. Go? Now? There was a dull glow where the bandits’ tents were located. Tia pulled at him again and they started to run away from the camp, toward where the forest lay, somewhere beyond the dark night.

They lurched out into the darkness and light rain, blundering over hillocks and stumbling into holes towards the distant forest. The soggy grass snagging their feet. N’Than worried that the bandits would look over and see them stumbling away. Behind them glowed the camp, flickering flames muted in the drizzle, the dark, dancing shadows of the slavers, showers of sparks as the slavers tried to put out the fire eating at their tents.

Once, Tia stopped gasping for breath and blinked up at the dark sky, obviously hoping the clouds would break enough that one or other of the two moons would shed some light. N’Than turned his face into the wind, the rain gentle on his face. He could just barely detect the dark, heavy, mouldering, scent of a forest somewhere before them and slightly to their right. He changed direction slightly and tried to drag Tia along, but she shook his hand off her arm.

“Come on, they’ll be coming soon,” he said. “The forest is in this direction.”

“It’ll take them awhile to figure out we’re gone. Are you sure the forest is over there?” Tia asked dubiously peering in the direction he was pointing. The forest was too far away to see in the dark but he was sure. She took another look at the cloudy sky but relented and followed. The darkness, the dank grass that tangled their feet, and the slimy mud, slowed their progress. Thankfully the vague shouts behind them weren’t getting louder. Unfortunately they weren’t getting quieter either.

Tia stumbled, again, falling headlong over a hummock of grass. “What did you do back there? How come they’re not chasing us?” N’Than asked as he bent over her trying to catch his breath, his hands on his thighs.

“A small illusion. I made some grass look like us, lying under the wagon.” Her own breath came out raggedly. “Come on, they’ll have the fire out soon and then they’ll be checking for us,” she said as N’Than dragged her onto her feet.

“If it wasn’t so dark we might be able to find someplace to hide.” His legs were trembling from all the running and his head was starting to pound.

They continued to run, stumble and fall through the rain as the night slowly unwound around them.

Then they heard the howl of the dogs.

Chapter 3

Tia and N’Than stumbled on, squelching through puddles, slipping on soggy grass. The rain, although it made it harder to run, was keeping the dogs from following their tracks; their howls of frustration were music to N’Than’s ears but he feared it wasn’t good enough. “We need a stream,” he gasped out as they ran.

Tia stumbled to a halt. “A stream?”

N’Than nodded, trying to catch his breath. “The dogs won’t be able to detect us at all if we walk in moving water. There may also be an overhang or something we can shelter in.” N’Than could see Tia rub at her face as she considered what he said and then started out more slowly. N’Than strained to hear through the soft patter of the rain. He stumbled into Tia, who had turned to face left of them.

“Listen,” she whispered.

N’Than slowed but all he could hear was his heart beating in his ears, the dogs’ howls, and behind that the steady patter of the rain on the grass.

“This way.” Tia grabbed his hand and dragged him off to the left.

They ran, or rather shuffled at a fast pace, until N’Than missed his footing, stumbling onto his knee in a stream.

“Yes!” Tia said in a whisper.

She dragged him up and started to walk in the water, looking from left to right. They lurched and splashed their way along, the water getting progressively deeper until Tia pulled him to one side.

“I think this will do. Down you go,” she pushed him down.

“Hey, stop that. What are you trying to do?” N’Than sputtered.

She kicked his feet out from beneath him and he got a mouth full of water.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his head out of the water.

“Be quiet and get under there,” she said thrusting him into a hollow beneath the bank and scrambling in behind him. “You suggested this. We can wait here until they go by and then we’ll follow the stream till we get to a village or something.”

“If we haven’t drowned by then,” he groused back.

They waited in tense silence. The tangle of roots and mud that dangled down onto their heads stank of mould and dead fish. N’Than, even though he was cold and soaking wet, found himself drifting off to sleep, his head pillowed against Tia’s back. He’d jerk awake to listen tensely and then his eyes would drift shut. He kept picturing a huge stag as he drowsed. The rack on its head was impressive, ten points at least.

They sat in silence for a while before N’Than roused himself enough to wonder how they had managed to escape.

“What about the chain?” he whispered, keeping his voice below the murmur of the flowing water.

“What?”

“The chain, How’d you break the chain?” He shifted a little to ease a cramp that was developing in his hip. His ankle, chafed by the manacle, was blessedly numb from the cold water. His arms were goose bumped with cold. The current swirled slowly around them occasionally bring slimy clumps of unknown origin that made N’Than twitch in disgust.

“It was rusty.”

“Tia, rust doesn’t eat through things that quickly.”

She didn’t say anything and so he poked her. “What did you do?” He suddenly remembered what she had said about leaving an illusion. “You’re a mage! Why didn’t you escape earlier? If you can do illusion, they’d never know you were missing.”

“Because they have a mage, and he would have known what was happening if I had actually used power to escape. I needed to make sure I could get away. Now be quiet, someone might hear us.”

N’Than wasn’t satisfied with that. She had done something to the chain and then there was the illusion she said she had cast, wouldn’t the mage have felt that?

They huddled there for what seemed like hours. The bugs in the roots dangling down grew used to them and started crawling into their hair. N’Than kept brushing at his head, hating the feeling of something crawling on his skull causing dirt to drop onto them. Tia hissed at him to stop when some fell into her eyes. He almost climbed onto Tia’s shoulders once when something brushed against his leg, startling him. He was surprised to feel the swell of muscle in her upper arm. He had thought, since she was so well spoken that she might be from a wealthy family, but no woman from an established family, not even the daughter of a merchant, would be so well muscled. Tia pushed several branches away that swirled into their niche, once giving a soft yelp as a thorn pricked her.

N’Than tried to strike up more conversation but Tia wouldn’t respond. Finally the cold started to get to him. Eventually, his teeth were chattering so hard that he could feel his chin bumping rhythmically against Tia’s back, the only spot of warmth in the interminable cold. Eventually it lightened and Tia stuck her head out of the hollow under the riverbank to look around. N’Than craned around her to see. The muddy river had overflowed the far bank, lower than the side that sheltered them. The grass on that side bending in the current. He was heartened to see he could see the trees in the forest. It was significantly closer. Closer still were tangled bushes, some even overhanging the river that might provide some shelter.

“I don’t know where they are but we can’t sit here forever. Let’s go downstream some,” she suggested.

N’Than’s shivering had intensified to the point where he was barely able to walk. What he would give to have four feet.

The rain had become desultory under a gloomy sky as they wove their way down the river. It ran through a shallow gully, one bank higher than the other. The heavily graveled river edges made their footing unsteady and bruised their feet, but there were bushes and small stands of trees where they could hide, if they were near one of them. N’Than leaned on Tia until she called a halt and dragged him out of the water. She may be shorter than him, but N’Than could feel the muscles in her shoulders and arms. She had to shove him through the tangle of bushes between gangly trees, but once seated they were invisible from the far bank or the river.

“We’re lucky the bushes here grow around streams. We can walk in the water until we get to a stand of bushes to rest. They won’t be able to see us then,” Tia said as she sat down wearily. “And if you’re right, the dogs won’t be able to track us either.”

“If you can do magic, how did they capture you?” N’Than asked as they rested for a bit.

“Stop asking stupid questions. I don’t have enough magic to do anything big, mostly small illusions and a little misdirection. If I could have saved myself do you think I’d still be here! Let’s go.”

They splashed through the stream, which gradually grew narrower. Occasionally they would climb out of the water, worming their way through the sodden bushes and scrubby trees to a clearing to rest. The rain finally stopped. Both were so wet and cold that neither noticed. N’Than sat staring numbly in front of him while Tia scrounged around for berries. Since she wouldn’t let them rest for long, she never found much. She alternated between bullying and cajoling N’Than to walk. His aching back muscles, tense from the cold and the constant shivering, making it difficult for him to move.

“I don’t hear them. Maybe we’ve lost them,” N’Than muttered to Tia at one stop hoping they could stay there a bit longer.

“Just because we can’t hear them right now doesn’t mean we’ve lost them.” She halted and turned around, listening for something. “I thought‌—‌Oh! Oh!” she cried and stumbled to the ground. She curled up and grabbed her leg above her ankle.

N’Than jerked out of his daze. “What’s wrong?” He went to kneel beside her.

“Stop!” She thrust out her hand to stop him. “There’s a snake!”

N’Than danced back in time to see the snakes head weaving towards him. “Oh damn! A Black Stripe!” N’Than looked franticly around for something to throw at the snake, fear trumping exhaustion. “They’re poisonous!”

He picked up a rock and threw it hard. It bounced off the back of the snake and it disappeared under a bush. N’Than found another rock and threw it at the bush and then a third. Satisfied that it was gone he turned back to Tia who was holding her ankle.

“Did it bite you? Where were you bit?’ N’Than took Tia’s foot and carefully examined it. There was a single puncture hole above the manacle. “I’m going to have to try and suck some of the poison out. You’re lucky. It looks like the manacle took the brunt of the bite.”

Tia tried to jerk her foot away. “Don’t waste time with me.”

N’Than pulled on her foot so that she fell backwards. “Hold still or I’ll sit on you.” He put her ankle to his mouth and bit hard to open the mark a little more and then sucked. He spit out the blood, coughing hard and sucked some more.

“You’re an idiot,” Tia groused. “You can get away easier if you leave me.”

“Be quiet. I think I got most of it.” He did it one more time. He then crouched by the river to rinse his mouth and drink as much as he could.

“Did you swallow some of the poison?” Tia asked. She sat holding her ankle with one hand and her collar with the other. Her thumb was rhythmically rubbing her ankle and she had an abstracted look on her pale face.

“Some, I tried not to but I swallowed some of your blood and it probably had some in it. If I drink enough, it’ll dilute the poison. It’s only dangerous in your blood, so I’m not worried.”

Tia shook her head, pushing strands of brown hair out of her face. Short it might but it was still long enough to get into her eyes. “Not much,” she grinned. The sudden smile caught him by surprise, giving her a mischievous look. “You’re not bandit material that’s for sure. If you were, you’d have left me. Come on, let’s get going,” she hauled him to his feet and they shambled out of the glade and into the water.

Eventually they reached the edge of the forest. N’Than was shivering harder and barely able to keep up with Tia even though she limped badly. That smile hadn’t lasted very long. Her face became graver as they progressed. She kept shooting him worried glances that N’Than had no trouble interpreting. He didn’t think that, even weak from lack of food and cold, he would be harmed by the venom he had swallowed.

“We’ll rest here for a bit.” Tia pointed to a glade near the river. “I’ve got to light a fire and warm you up or we won’t get anywhere.” She pushed him into the glade and then started to leave but came back. She pulled up some of the tall grass, making a nest, and chivvied him onto it.

He lay there, grateful not to be moving. He stared up into the sky and tried to figure out what was different. The light was strange. He was having trouble focussing so he closed his eyes, letting his mind drift; feeling slightly warmer as the sun peeked intermittently through the branches. If he had four legs then he’d be able to run faster. If he was a stag he’d be able to carry Tia to safety. He thought about that, thought how it would feel to have four legs. He moved his legs and arms jerkily, half asleep as he imagined what it would be like to be able to run like the wind. His temples hurt and his arms and legs ached. Dimly he realised he was feverish.

The scent of burning leaves roused him and he crawled out of the nest of grass to see Tia slowly feeding small twigs to flames.

“Is that safe?” he mumbled.

Tia looked over at him and shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll make much smoke and the trees will dissipate what there is, but you need to get warm. Once the fire is going I’ll heat up some water. Not as good as soup, but then we’re not exactly equipped for camping.”

He crawled over to her and huddled, holding his hands out to the meagre heat. “I take it we’ve lost them.”

“For the moment.”

N’Than stared into the fire, swaying slightly. Exhaustion, cold and a fever pulled him into a dream state. He rubbed at his arms. They felt stretched and the ache was deep in the bone. “How do you plan on heating water?” He looked around. “We’re wet enough but I don’t see a pot.”

She gave him a worried look as she put some branches on the fire. “Just be patient.”

N’Than watched blearily as she nursed the fire into a usable size. He enjoyed the heat.

“I think that’ll do,” she muttered. She got up and passed out of N’Than’s view. He was too exhausted to even wonder where she was going. She came back carrying one of her petticoats, which was sopping wet. “There are many ways to carry water,” she said as she carefully placed it by the fire.

N’Than wondered idly how many layers she had under her skirt; then even that seemed too much trouble as he found himself staring at the underskirt, mesmerized by the way the steam started to lift off it. Tia patted it once or twice and then nodded.

“That’ll have to do. Here,” she handed the petticoat to N’Than who stared blankly at it. “You suck on it. The water will be warm, not hot but it’s better than nothing.”

N’Than looked at the skirt and then back at Tia. “Suck?”

Tia rolled her eyes then put a dripping edge of the material in her mouth and sucked on it. “Like that,” she said taking it out with a slight grimace. “It’s a little gritty but it is warm.”

N’Than nodded and tried. It warmed his throat as the moisture trickled down it.

Tia took it away and placed it by the fire. “The only problem is that it cools so quickly,” she said as she watched the underskirt to make sure it didn’t burn.

Once the petticoat was dry, she disappeared into the bush, only to return shortly with it dripping again. The morning wore on, the sun working its way around the clearing. Neither seemed to want to leave the warmth of the fire

“We can’t stay here,” Tia said as she threw the last stick on the fire.

“A little longer?” N’Than murmured. “No, I suppose not.” He tried to muster the strength to get up. He was not looking forward to walking in the cold water. His brain was sluggish and Tia had to repeat herself.

“Do you think we would be better off in the forest? The stream is getting smaller and the banks steeper,” she said sounding worried.

“There are more things to eat in the forest,” N’Than said. “Tubers and mushroom. Edible mushrooms,” he qualified. He really didn’t want to go back into the water.

“What about the dogs?”

“They need to find our scent. They won’t know where we’ve left the stream,” N’Than said hoping he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

Tia worried her bottom lip, staring at the dying embers. She finally stood up, nodding decisively. “All right, you said you knew how to live in a forest. I hope that wasn’t just a boast.”

N’Than hoped it wasn’t a boast either. He had never been alone in the woods without servants.

The wind had shifted so they could hear the hunt far away. N’Than chose their direction based on the sound, using any game trails they found which would lead them away from the hunt. They were slightly overgrown which made N’Than wonder where the animals had gone but the way was easier than walking against a current, their footing more secure. They stubbed their toes and stumbled less, although they still found way too many roots and stones. The bushes snagged at their clothes and scratched their arms and faces. They limped through the day and into the dusk in silence, until they couldn’t see anything more. N’Than worried because the baying of the hounds seemed progressively closer as they travelled deeper into the woods but neither could walk any faster than a limping stumble.

They found another clearing to huddle in not daring to light a fire this time. N’Than slipped into a disturbed sleep. He was cold, the ground was hard and the grass they were lying on stuck into his back and side and beneath it all was the fear the slavers would catch him. He wished again he had four legs. His dreams became more chaotic, the pain in his legs and forehead almost waking him, but his exhaustion was too great. Four legs, that’s all they needed.

“Sweet moons above!”

He woke suddenly to Tia’s shocked voice. N’Than lifted his head, which was feeling much heavier than before, and stared at Tia’s shocked face.

*What’s wrong?* What was wrong? His mouth felt all funny and he only made a sort of grunting sound.

“What’s WRONG?” She scrabbled away from him. Now he was looking down at her, which was strange since he was lying and she was sitting.

N’Than surged to his feet and then stood stock-still looking down. He had front legs. He swung his head to look at his back. What was wrong with him?

“Hey watch what you’re doing with those things!” Tia said scooting farther to get away from the antlers.

N’Than took a step forward only to get his legs tangled and he stumbled falling heavily. He surged to his feet. N’Than’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. *I must be dreaming. Wake up Wake up!* He felt trapped in his head and only that grunting sound coming from his mouth.

“I am awake,” Tia said, scrambling to her feet. “You’re in my head! Get out of my head!”

He had to wake up. This was ludicrous. *What kind of illusion is this? Take it off!* N’Than bent his head, grabbed a front leg with his teeth and pulled. The pain was sharp and real.

“I didn’t do anything.” She stared at him out of a shocked face.

*I didn’t do it so you must have. Turn me back.*

“I can’t! It wasn’t me! I don’t have that kind of power.” Her voice wavered.

N’Than was overwhelmed by the scents around him. His head swung back and forth as smells he recognized were crowded out by other scents, scents he had no memory of. His ears twitched and turned as the sounds of the woods around him fuddled his mind. When he looked directly at Tia he could see her clearly but everything else around him was flatter, with less depth.

Disorientated, he tried to look everywhere at once. The changes in focus confusing him, his breath coming in short pants. He tried to calm himself; taking deep breaths but there were so many strange smells. Then one among the bewildering variety stood out from the others. A primitive fear rose swamping his ability to reason. His ears swiveled to try and catch the sound matching the smell. They were behind him. He bolted. The figure in front of him scrambled out of the way. In a half remembered way he knew it was Tia but he had to run, get away. Danger! Dogs!

Tia scrambled out of the way of the elk as it bounded into the woods. She could barely see as images were superimposed on each other, the elk, herself, trees, in a dizzying kaleidoscope of shapes and colours. She thought she was going to become violently ill. Could it be N’Than? His voice had been very clear in her head. She stared wildly around the clearing making a concentrated effort to focus but he wasn’t there. Had he left her sometime in the night? But an elk, a talking elk, lying there, right beside made no sense either. She was alone and she had no idea where to go. “N’Than!” she yelled, hoping he’d respond, come out of the woods with a grin. Silence settled around her, frightening her more. She dithered for a moment not sure what to do. She couldn’t just stay here. With no better idea, she stumbled in the direction the elk took. Her head swam as her eyes continued to play tricks on her. It was hunger, surely, that was making it hard for her to see where she was going.

She finally fell hard; her breath coming in gasps. It was impossible to continue if she couldn’t see where she was going. With her cheek pressed into the mud, struggling with the start of hysteria, she closed her eyes, taking refuge in the darkness. The nausea slowly retreated and with it the panic. She opened her eyes slowly and concentrated on staring at the sapling just in front of her nose. No vertigo. She lifted her head and it started. Quickly shutting her eyes she waited for the faintness to pass then opened them and stared fixedly at what was directly in front of her eyes. The flush of moss on the tree trunk stood out from the darkness of the damp tree trunk. She slowly turned her head, forcing her eyes to focus on what was immediately before her; the forest floor was covered with rotted leaves and branches with a lonely plant pushing through. She sat up and slowly looked around feeling less panicked as she realised that if she forced herself to focus on one thing at a time her vision remained stable. Panic was still nibbling at her self-control but she would manage. She didn’t hunt and the few times she had been out with her family it was her younger brother who had done the tracking so she had no idea what to do. But sitting here wasn’t going to help, she thought and carefully got to her feet to walk. Between the tree cover and the clouds she couldn’t see the sun, so she decided to continue in the direction she had been going.

Trudging along feeling thirsty and hollow from hunger, Tia didn’t think she could feel worse except there was a sort of pressure building behind her eyes that was bothering her more; an additional discomfort to the myriad she already felt. She finally reached the edge of a clearing just as the sun broke through the cloud cover. She paused letting her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness after the gloom of the forest. She needed food. N’Than had said that he could hunt so she needed to find him. Although, if he was an elk, she wasn’t sure he could help. Maybe the transformation was temporary. She snorted. She knew something about magic and she had never heard of a spell which could change someone so completely. Her hand crept to her collar. Maybe it was an illusion, a damn good one. But who would have worked it? Was it something they ate? She laughed mirthlessly. It was unlikely they would have shared a hallucination so it wasn’t something they ate.

She circled the clearing hoping to find traces, either hoof prints or, hopefully, footprints. She couldn’t find anything. Either he hadn’t come this way or she couldn’t see his trail; the latter more likely. Why hadn’t she spent some time learning how to track? Squinting at the sun she decided to go west since the woods were less dense and that was the direction they had been going. Between her head and hunger she was beginning to feel distinctly unwell.

She kept returning to N’Than’s change, like a dog to a rodent hole. Without any explanation for it she kept repeating over and over what she did know as if that would somehow solve the problem: no mage could turn someone into something else, illusion yes, but an illusion could not be shared like that; he thought he was an elk; she saw he was an elk; she heard his words in her mind; she feared that maybe she did have something to do with it. Then she was right back where she started: mages cannot do that kind of transformation, etc. etc. She was tied to a wheel going endlessly round and round.

The change had to be temporary. Maybe the woods were cursed and she’d turn into something too. That was a thought to make her feel sick, sicker if possible. How awful to be human one moment and animal the next. She had sworn that she wouldn’t take responsibility for others, not anymore, but she couldn’t just leave him. She kept replaying the horror in his voice when he realised he had changed. No one should have to feel that on their own. There was nothing she could do about it, not now. Her hand gripped her collar as she thought about types of power. She had trained in the use and theory, so perhaps she could help. Gods, what was she thinking? This was so far outside of her knowledge that she didn’t have any idea where to start.

For all that her stomach was roiling, she was becoming increasingly thirsty and started to hope she’d come to a stream soon. Maybe if she took some time going up and down the bank she’d find some sign that an elk had come by. She laughed at her stupidity. If she found tracks, how would she know it was N’Than?

N’Than finally stumbled to a stop in a clearing. His sides were heaving, his head hanging down, his skin twitching. His nose filled with the scent of grass. He pulled at it and chewed slowly, taking stock of what had happened. The taste was sweet, settling him. He slowly worked his way across the clearing, grazing as he went, letting the smells roll around in his head. His eyesight was different but with his head down he didn’t find it so disorienting. He came to the far end of the clearing. He looked around, listening, smelling for danger. Nothing. He had out-distanced the hounds. He walked around the clearing feeling the power in his movements. It felt so good, the way he moved, the speed. He kicked his legs and leapt. Then he ran; the speed and agility filled him with wonder. He soared over a downed tree. He finally stopped in another clearing, tired but exhilarated. This form was fast and strong. He browsed as he sorted out the sensations. Smell was so strong. Seeing was different when looking forward and looking sideways, although the colours were a little off. Hearing was—he paused to consider his hearing—it was different. Everything seemed to be just background unless he focused, then he could hear the wind sighing through the trees and birds twittering. As he settled into his skin the rightness started to diminish; something seemed to be missing. He still felt twitchy. He drifted out of the clearing deciding that he was thirsty. He could smell water up ahead, drawing him towards it. The water felt cool as he drank.

A sharp crack startled him. Throwing up his head he pivoted to find the danger, seeing a figure there. For a moment he stared uncomprehending, then he remembered her as she took a tentative step forwards and spoke.

“N’Than, it’s me, Tia.”

N’Than hovered between staying and bolting. The voice was so familiar, comforting.

“Are the bandits close?” Tia walked closer. “Can we rest here? There’s water. I was looking for some berries. Did you happen to see any?”

*Berries?* N’Than said hesitantly.

“Yes, I’m hungry,” she said.

N’Than looked around at the bushes and then at his feet. He started to pull at the grass. *The grass is tasty.*.

“I can’t eat grass, N’Than. I don’t know much about hunting but you do, don’t you.” She took a step closer. “Can you change back?” Tia blurted.

*Change?*

Tia slowly walked towards him and carefully laid her hand on his face. “Yes change.”

He stared at her, leaning into her hand. *Yes,* although he really wasn’t sure.

“So how do you do it?”

*I don’t know. I suppose I have to …* Have to what? He liked this shape. What if he didn’t change back? What if he couldn’t? He didn’t want to think. She was making him think and it was hard. N’Than moved away from her.

“N’Than, you have to change back,” Tia said as if following his thoughts. “Maybe you’d better try now.”

*No! Later,* he mumbled. He smelt the seductive smell of meadow grass; the type that had those little starry flowers. He moved towards the smell.

“No, N’Than, now. I think you’d better do it now,” she followed him and grabbed at his tail and twisted it to get his attention. “Listen to me. You need to try now.” He could hear a trace of something in her voice. Fear?

N’Than tried to jerk away from her hand, but she was strong. She was so small but she was very strong. He could tell by the mulish set of her mouth that she would give him no peace if he didn’t. Maybe he should leave her. He could run away. No one would catch him. He ran like the wind.

“You’re not an elk. You’re a person,” Tia said, the worry more evident. “You’re not an elk.” Now she sounded desperate. “Don’t you have family? They’ll miss you.”

N’Than moved restlessly, thinking about his father and brothers. Wouldn’t his oldest brother be surprised at the size of his antlers?

“They won’t recognise you like this.”

He looked at her puzzled. How did she know what he was thinking?

“N’Than, you need to change. You can’t stay an elk.”

N’Than managed to jerk his tail out of her hand and turned to face her. Did he want to? He liked being four footed. He liked the speed and when he jumped. Sometimes he jumped just because he could. She wanted him to give it all up. He backed away from her.

“N’Than, just try.” She followed him. “I’d like to see you change. It must be amazing.”

N’Than kept backing up. She was crowding him. It made him nervous.

“You’re not going to be able to drink beer like this. Didn’t you tell me there wasn’t anything like beer after a sword practice? And women. You like women. Well, I’m sure that there may be some women who like elk, but, on the whole, I rather think they like their men to walk on two feet not four,” she coaxed.

N’Than backed into some prickly bushes and stopped. *I can change back any time I want,* he said sullenly.

“Yes, I know but I think it would be good to practice,” she said. “Let’s see you do it.”

N’Than stamped a hoof. He could go but he didn’t want to leave her. His head swung back to her. *We haven’t lost the bandits yet. Maybe when we stop.*

Tia shook her head. “No, now.”

N’Than stared at her and then down at his legs. He thought about his legs, what they were like, two legs, not nearly as good as four. Then there were arms; right, he had arms, arms that could hold things. It’d be nice to get at apples that rolled between the roots of a tree. But he didn’t need arms to eat. Grass tasted really good. He didn’t need to stand here, he should go look for some grass, except Tia was there, hands on her hips, barring his way. He stepped sideways to work his way around Tia.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re going to try to change back,” she sounded annoyed now. Tia’s eyes widened. “You can’t?”

*Yes, yes I can.* He didn’t like that look on Tia’s face. *It’s just that …* He swung his head back and forth, causing Tia to dance away from his antlers.

“It’s just you don’t know how.” Tia sat down right in front of him.

He pulled at some grass.

“Well, how did you do it for the first time?”

N’Than thought about it. *I don’t know. I woke up and there I was.*

Tia shook her head. “Come on, you must have been thinking about it? You can’t just go from being a man to being an elk.” Her eyes widened suddenly “You were born human weren’t you?”

*Of course.* N’Than snapped. *My father and mother are human.* He stopped as he thought about it. *Well, my father is.*

“Your mother?”

*She is, was, from Goan. She’s dead. I never knew her.*

“What do you remember about changing?”

*I remember wanting to have four legs or find a horse.* He pulled at the grass near his feet, chewing it slowly. He liked the green taste of it. *My arms and legs hurt. I remember that. I kept thinking what it would feel like to run away from the bandits, the dogs.*

“So think what it would feel like to be a man,” she suggested.

N’Than moved uneasily. *I don’t know if that will work.*

Tia raised an eyebrow. “It’s worth a try.”

N’Than ripped more grass.

“Don’t you remember?” she asked softly.

*Of course, it’s just …*

“The training circle. The way you dance around the circle. I can tell you were trained as a fighter. You have calluses on your hands. You liked it, didn’t you?”

N’Than nodded energetically, making Tia jerk her head back to avoid his antlers.

“So think about the training circle. Your feet bouncing from step to step. Think about the training circle,” Tia said. “Your arm and the sword, like one, cutting through the air.”

Her voice picked up a cadence as N’Than imagined the circle. He closed his eyes to visualise it. His legs started to ache, but not badly, more a memory of an ache as he concentrated on Tia’s voice, telling him about the training circle. He remembered the smell of the sawdust and the feeling of sweat on his face and back. He flexed his legs remembering a move that he liked where he went deep and sprang up under his opponents guard. The flex of his knees and the way they drove his body under and up.

“Oh, that looks so, so ….” Tia’s voice sounded muffled, not sharp. “Oh, moons above, you don’t have clothes!”

N’Than stumbled to his feet, off balance. His head seemed to float above his shoulders without the weight of the antlers. He looked down at his body, naked. He lifted his arm and stared at his hand, turning it over. He traced a scar on the back of his wrist feeling the skin. “I, I” he stopped, his words sounding strange in his ears. “I feel funny,” he managed to get out.

“Does it hurt?” Tia asked, cheeks reddening.

N’Than shook his head. “No, it just feels different.” N’Than looked around a little disoriented. “Now what?”

“I think we should walk a little further before stopping for the night,” Tia suggested, not looking at him directly.

N’Than nodded and followed her as she turned to walk along the stream. They hadn’t gone very far when they both heard the dogs howling in the distance.

Chapter 4

They started to run but the going was too difficult and the barking seemed to be getting closer. Tia realised that she was alone and looked back. N’Than had stopped.

“I can’t keep up with you, my feet are too sore,” he said gasping for breath and holding his side. “I’m shifting. I can run faster as an elk.”

Tia knew he was right. He could run faster as an elk. She’d just have to take her own chances on her two feet. She watched as his form changed. It was quick. He was a man then in a heartbeat, he was an elk. She stared in wonder before her eyes began to blur again.

*Get up,* he said to Tia.

The shocked look on her face intensified. “Get up?” she parroted. She had forgotten the way his voice sounded in her head.

*Do you really want to stay here and greet the bandits?* he asked.

Tia could hear a howl not far away. The elk, N’Than, loomed over her.

*Get up. I can carry you faster than you can run.* N’Than said. Tia could see that he was trembling, barely controlling the urge to bolt.

Climbing up was going to be a problem, his back was level with her nose. She grabbed onto his mane and jammed her foot against his back hip for leverage and jumped, and jumped again, trying to throw her foot across his back. The smoothness of his skin provided no purchase she could use to haul herself up. He kept jerking his head away as she dragged at his mane keeping her off balance.

“I can’t!” She looked around but there was nothing she could stand on.

*I’ll kneel down and you climb on,* he suggested. He bent his front legs, lowering himself as far as possible and she climbed on. He surged to his feet but Tia wasn’t ready so she fell off with an “ooof’

“Let’s try this again,” she said through gritted teeth.

So they did, and this time she ended up precariously perched on his back.

*Hold on* he yelled.

“You don’t have to scream and what am I supposed to hold on to?” she snarled, fear making her angry. N’Than exploded out of the bushes and she only had time to throw herself onto his neck clutching at his mane. She began to feel nauseous almost immediately as the world seemed to swoop and double around her. She shut her eyes, burying her face in his mane and immediately felt better.

N’Than yelled *hold on* again. She could feel his hind quarter’s bunch and they were airborne. He landed with a stumble and then a hop to keep her from falling off and then he was off again. They dodged around trees, running through small bushes, brambles and branches snagging at her skirt and arms. They ran until the sounds of pursuit had dropped off and then they ran some more. Finally, after his second stumble, he dropped to a walk and then stopped, his sides heaving. His mouth foamed and sweat patched his coat.

Tia dropped to the ground sinking to her knees, gasping as much as he was. Her thighs were sore from rubbing against his coat and her rump ached from the bouncing on his boney back.

“That was …” She sat back shaking her head, words forsaking her for the moment, glad that the world had steadied, even if only for a brief moment. “I don’t want to do that again. Do you know how often I almost fell off and did you have to jump every fallen tree in this gods’ forsaken land?” She dragged herself to her feet. “I hate riding anyways. I’m lousy at it at the best of times.”

N’Than stood there trembling, his ears twitching in all directions. *We haven’t lost them yet.*

“Do you have to do that? Talk in my head?” Tia jumped back as N’Than shook his head, spraying foam from his mouth

*How else am I supposed to talk,* he grumbled at her.

Tia looked around then lurched off to gather several handfuls of grass to rub along his body.

N’Than jumped as she started. “Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” she said.

Both were silent as she worked on drying his coat. N’Than absentmindedly pulled at the grass at his feet, slowly relaxing under the rhythmic movement of her hands. When she was finished she ran her hands down his legs checking for cuts.

“What happened to the manacle?” Tia asked, kneeling down and feeling his hock.

*I don’t know,* he mumbled.

When she was finished, she sat down exhausted. She needed to get up and look for something to eat or drink but she was too tired. Riding him was tiring and painful. His gait varied constantly as he jumped over fallen trees and suddenly changed directions as he avoided trees and bushes. “You’ve never shifted before?” Tia finally asked.

*This is the first.* N’Than lifted his head, hearing something in the distance. *They’re still looking for us. You’d better get up.*

She ran over to a stump and climbed up on it balancing precariously while he came over to her. She clambered onto his back. “It’s really bony,” she complained as she settled in, grabbing his mane. “We need to keep the sun on our right or we’ll end up running in circles.” She focused her eyes on his mane, refusing to look at where they were going, trusting N’Than.

He tossed his head and started off slowly, but soon it escalated into an all-out run. They went like this for the rest of the day. She was amazed at his stamina. A horse would have foundered long before now.

By dusk they could no longer hear the dogs. They stopped in a copse where Tia wiped him down in the silence, which had lasted most of the day. She had found that if she tried, she could split the images she was seeing and push one to the side. It made her feel less dizzy.

“I wonder if we’ve lost them.” She checked some of the bushes around the edges, finding a small handful of berries to eat while wandering around the clearing kicking at the ground for anything edible. Numol was full and Leoht was a sliver. Between the two the night was bright enough to see. She wandered off to look for more berries or some tubers. She found a small patch of tubers and the ground was damp enough for her to dig them up with a stick. Content with her success, she limped back into the clearing.

*I don’t hear them anywhere,* he said.

Startled, she spilled several of the berries at his comment. “Stop that!”

*Stop what*

“Talking in my head.”

*It’s not like it’s a choice.*

“It’s just that …” her voice trailed off as she limped over to the far side of the clearing. “You can’t read my mind can you?” she asked tentatively and dumped her berries under a tree and sat down. She rubbed gently at the chafe marks on her thighs then examined the bite on her ankle.

*No,” N’Than said. He wandered over and pushed his face between her hands and her ankle to look at it.

“I presume if it was poisoned it would look un-healthy?” Tia said, pushing his head away.

*I suppose so. You should have had some reaction but it doesn’t look like it. I must have gotten all of the poison.*

She ate her meager dinner, a little envious that N’Than had plenty of food.

*What about your manacle?* N’Than asked, his large ears flicking restlessly, listening for sounds of pursuit, she presumed.

“I’ll work on it a bit more before trying to bash myself with a rock. It’s tiring trying to rust something.” Tia rubbed at the collar around her neck; it was chaffing her neck a bit.

She set aside some of the berries for the morning. Once done she got up and wandered around the clearing, pulling up grass and piling it beside the berries to make herself a bed. N’Than wandered after her. He lipped up some of the grass she had gathered.

“Stop that!” she snapped. She almost wished she could have shifted; food and warmth wouldn’t be such an issue. She fussed with the pile of grass, trying to get comfortable.

*It’s going to be cold tonight,* he finally said. *You could sleep with me.*

Tia sat up and looked at him consideringly then at his antlers and shook her head.

*If you want to be cold that’s your business but I think we’ll be warmer together.*

“You’ll promise not to stab me with those horns?”

*Antlers.*

“Alright, antlers. And you won’t roll over on me right?”

*It’s pretty tough to roll over when you need to stand up to change position.* he pointed out.

“Very well.” She scuttled over to sit next to him. Leaning against his shoulder, she stared into the dark. It wasn’t long before her head was nodding and she slid down to nestle against his side. In the distance the wolves howled at the moons.

Tia woke the next morning with a draft at her back, her legs and back stiff, and her vision blurring again. Sitting up she looked carefully around for N’Than, blinking her eyes trying to bring them into focus wondering where he had gone. She rubbed at her temples, which felt tight as she worked to separate the images. That was just what she needed right now, a ghost of a headache. Staring at the tree in front of her helped as she struggled to push the other images to the side. It seemed easier than yesterday. Once she was sure that what she was seeing was what was in front of her, she scrambled to her feet. It started to rain in fits and starts. The fall was starting and with it the interminable rain. Shivering she tried to decide whether she should make a fire to warm herself and N’Than or just try to find some berries. She remembered then that N’Than didn’t need a fire as an elk. She looked around again but N’Than wasn’t in the clearing. Annoyed she got up and did a circuit of the glade to see if she could find his prints. Once she did she hurried to follow them before the rain decided to fall in earnest. She could finally hear water in the distance, a stream maybe. N’Than must have been thirsty. The walk had done her good; not only had her stiffness abated but the pressure in her head had faded. Earlier she had been afraid it was going to develop into a full-blown headache. She finally was able to see an elk she felt was N’Than, looking into a clearing. As she approached she heard a bugling. Curious, she came up beside N’Than to see what he was watching. A stag paced back and forth on the far side of the clearing with his harem grouped behind him, his bellowing meant to intimidate a rival. N’Than stood there trembling. Tia fancied she could feel him, could feel his heart beat increase as he stepped out of the woods into the clearing and began to parallel the bull. Tia’s brothers had explained more than once about the rutting season. She knew that it took place toward the end of summer but surely it was too early. Except there was no mistaking the signs - an elk with a harem, his rank smell and his strutting, meant to entice the cows.

N’Than kept pace his antlers held high as he bugled a challenge. The other stag raced across the clearing to meet him, antlers lowered.

“N’Than! N’Than!” Tia shouted.

N’Than and the elk crashed together and the trees around the glade seemed to tremble as the two stags fought for purchase in the wet grass. Droplets of blood sprayed from wounds. Tia ran towards the battling elk. When she slipped in some mud she realised how stupid that was. She didn’t stand a chance if one of them decided to take exception to her interference. The battle didn’t last long. N’Than gored the other stag and then trampled him when he was down. Tia rushed over because she could see that he was bleeding on his shoulder. He swung his head around at her, his antlers lowered threateningly. Tia backed up slowly. She really wasn’t sure if N’Than knew what he was doing or whether the drive to mate had taken over. How far into this form had he sunk? Did he even know he wasn’t an elk, not a real elk?

“N’Than. Stop it. It’s dead.”

N’Than backed away from the dead animal and then turned towards the hynds. He moved purposefully towards one of them. The musky scent of his arousal reaching Tia.

“No! N’Than. Stop: you’re not an elk. N’Than, Stop!” Tia had seen stallions react in just this way when the mares were in heat. She was almost stuttering, whether from the fight she had witnessed, brief but gory, from being wet and cold or embarrassment at what she feared N’Than was going to do.

N’Than ignored her, cutting out the hynd he had chosen. Tia became frantic. She started to rush towards the herd, hoping to scatter them, but N’Than swung towards her with his antlers lowered once more.

“N’Than, don’t.” Tia was sure that N’Than would be appalled at the idea that he had so far forgotten himself that he mated with a cow. She didn’t know what else she could do. She moved closer. He was ignoring her. In desperation Tia shrieked *Stop!* in her head, pushing her voice towards N’Than as hard as she could.

N’Than froze and stared at her with wide, frightened eyes. Even through the drizzle she could see the whites showing around the edges. Tia felt sick as he slowly backed away from her. He got to the far edge of the glade, turned and bounded into the dimness of the forest. Between one breath and the next he was gone. The hynds milled around and finally fled from her as well. Tia stood alone in the rain with the body of the dead stag and her heart squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. Even though he was an elk, she had seen that look before, once, on the face of a man as she leaned exhausted against the stonework at that accursed fort; a man, an elk, it didn’t matter; she was a monster.

Tia turned and ran away from where N’Than had fled just to get away. She needed to be by herself. She laughed slightly hysterically. How more by herself could she get? She held onto the collar as she ran, as if it alone would anchor her and stumbled out of the trees onto the bank of a small stream. The rain had stopped for the moment as she sat down abruptly, under the dubious shelter of a tree and realised how silly she was being. She had startled N’Than that was all. Startled him and set him and the herd to flight. She curled up, trying to stop the tears but they just kept falling and her head had started to pound. Finally exhausted she fell asleep. Off in the distance the wolves had started to howl again.

“Tia, Tia, wake up.”

Tia’s hand flew up to grasp N’Than’s neck, squeezing hard. Her eyes flew open while he batted at her hand, trying to pry her fingers away.

Tia’s eyes widened in surprise and her fingers loosened. N’Than, once more naked, sat down abruptly, massaging his throat, his dark brown eyes regarding her warily.

“What?” She rubbed at her eyes, trying to shed the memory of blood and screams that had populated her dreams. “Sorry,” she looked around, avoiding looking directly at him. Dusk was settling. Then she remembered N’Than taking off into the woods and leaving her alone.

“Um, it’s cold. Can you make a fire?” he asked, moving so he was just out of her reach. N’Than gestured to the neatly laid firewood. There was a pile of broken branches off to one side. “You know. A little heat, some flame, poof there’s warmth.” His smile looked a little forced. “You started the fire before and I don’t have the flint and steel.”

Tia glared at him before looking away quickly, not wanting to stare at him. He had left her alone and now he was expecting her to provide him with a fire. He could shift if he was cold. She opened her mouth to tell him, except her teeth started to chatter. She needed the fire too. “There’s your fire,” she managed to say.

“Tia,” N’Than said, exasperated.

“You’ve got your fire,” she repeated.

N’Than looked over at the wood and saw a small tendril of smoke. “How?”

“How do you think?” she asked smiling grimly as he approached the fire suspiciously.

“I thought you could only do illusion? Oh, and rust things,” he said.

“Well I can do a few other small things; fire and a little healing.”

“I don’t think making fire is small.” Then he added, “There are no mages in Goan or in Langdon, or what I always think of as real mages. We don’t like the idea of magic. It’s not normal.” He poked at the fire and pushed some branches that had fallen out back into the smouldering heap. “The healers at the college can do some things which border on magic but they don’t call it that. I always thought magic was really just tricks.”

“That’s pretty funny, coming from somebody like you. And it’s not magic, it’s power. Magic is what performers do,” said Tia.

He rubbed at his stubbly chin. “I suppose. You never hear about them doing practical things, like stopping the rain.” He balanced easily on his heels so he wasn’t sitting on the ground with his bare buttocks.

“It’s dangerous to do that. You may start a drought someplace else. People who use power have to be very careful that they don’t cause bigger problems.” Tia sat down beside the fire and rested her head on her knees.

N’Than said nothing. He broke up some branches and laid them on the fire. “I found some of those tubers you like. Should I put them in the fire?” He said hesitantly.

Tia raised her head wearily to look at him. “Like?”

“Yes, you know the ones you’re always eating.” The fire glinted off his auburn hair, similar in colour to his elk pelt.

“I can’t stand them, but they’re the only things I can find.” She held her hands out to the flames. The heat felt good and it was nice not to have to look for something to eat. “They’re better when they’re cooked but they’d be even better with butter and chives.”

“With some beef, a big hunk of beef,” N’Than said wistfully.

“Or even chicken. What I’d do for some meat.”

N’Than sat there frowning into the fire and then his face lit up. “How about fish?” He jumped to his feet, fairly vibrating with excitement.

“Do you see a fishing line or a net?” Tia asked, looking around the small clearing. “All I see is a naked man and some wood.” She stood up and pulled off one of her underskirts. “Here, wrap this around yourself.” She balled it up and threw it at him.

N’Than caught it and shook it out, looking disdainfully at it as he did.

Tia came around the fire, snatched it from his hands and went to wrap it around his hips.

“It’s a skirt!”

“It’s a loin cloth!”

The two glared at each other for a moment and then N’Than’s mouth quirked and Tia started to laugh. N’Than wrapped it around his waist. He went over to lie on the bank of the river and peered into the water.

“Tia, could you get one of the branches to act as a torch?”

Tia pawed through the pile until she came upon one that had been ripped away from its tree so one end was ragged. She pulled away more strands and then set it alight from the fire. It burned well and she brought it over to N’Than, holding it above his head.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s something I learned from one of my cousins.” He lay there dandling his fingers in the water and then he jerked and a fish fell onto the bank. “Ha! That’ll show him. He kept saying I didn’t have the patience.” He went back to lying in wait for another fish. He pulled two more out of the water.

“That’ll have to do; my fingers are getting too cold.”

Tia wandered away with the torch. By now dark had settled in and her torch was a bright star in the dark. N’Than tried to pick up the flopping fish. Tia came back with a rock and N’Than bashed the fish, until they stopped moving.

“We’ll stick them in the coals. That should burn off the scales,” Tia suggested after he bashed the last fish.

They ate in silence, picking out the bones and sucking on burnt fingers.

“Did you know you were an elk? Before you changed?” Tia asked interrupting N’Than’s reverie.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I changed. I’ve never done anything magical. And my father and brother’s certainly haven’t,” he said and licked the last bit of grease off his fingers. “That was tasty.” He sighed.

“But you are Goan?” Tia persisted.

“Half. Why? What would that have to do with being Goan?” N’Than asked.

Tia shook her head. “I don’t know much about Goan. Only that it snows early and a lot. That they have mines. And,” she said slowly, “I’ve heard that there were shape shifters there.”

N’Than was quiet for a bit. “They are a strange people, secretive. Most of their wealth comes from mining. The mines are surrounded by forests. The slopes of the mountains where the mines are found are covered by trees but they don’t hunt much, even though the woods are full of game.”

Tia shook her head in disbelief.

“No, it’s true. They hunt at the edges but never go into the forests. There are things that live there.”

“Like shape shifting elk?”

“Yes, I think so,” he said slowly.

“I suppose it would be tragic if you killed your brother thinking he was just an elk,” Tia said. “Can all Goans shift?”

“I don’t know who can or can’t. I’m not a full Goan. I spend most of my time in Langfestol.”

Tia threw a branch into the fire. “I don’t know much about shifters.”

N’Than grimaced. “Well that makes two of us. Being part Langdon has some advantages, like I spend most of my time in Langfestol, particularly winters. It’s where I got my education. I suppose it’s not surprising that there were things that I wasn’t told.” He poked at the fire. “I was never curious about Goan. Stupid really. I thought that Langfestol was the centre of everything.” They were both silent for a while. “So where were you going before you were captured?” N’Than laid back to stare at the stars peeping through the trees overhead.

“Going?”

“Yes, you said that your ship was blown off course and wrecked. So where were you going?”

Tia was quiet for so long that N’Than sat up to stare at her.

“Langfestol,” she finally said.

“So was I! What were you going to do there?” He grinned across the fire at her.

Sometimes, Tia thought, his good humour was rather tiring. “I’m going to be a midwife. What about you? Were you going home?”

For a moment N’Than looked evasive. “Yes, my father and brothers live there.”

“Your family will be worried.”

N’Than shrugged. “Maybe.” He was silent for a while. “Can you keep the fire going?” he finally asked.

Tia rolled her eyes. “I can’t make something out of nothing. You have to have wood.”

“I think there’s enough wood for tonight. I’ll feed the fire while you sleep then I’ll wake you once the moons are up.”

Tia nodded and watched the thoughts flicker across his face. She didn’t know what he was thinking but could give a shrewd guess. He was now one of those with power, equally feared, reviled, and sought after but always set apart. She lay down sad at what she saw was N’Than’s future. Then she remembered the last part of her oath, given when she had started to learn about her own power. With power comes responsibility towards those new come to power, to ensure they don’t endanger themselves or other’s through ignorance. Gods above, she’d had enough of protecting others; did she have to take up this burden? Tia slept badly and awoke before N’Than came to wake her. She felt the pit yawning at her feet and she fed the fire for the remainder of the night.

Chapter 5

The next day they briskly followed the river. Tia was quiet as N’Than chatted.

“I think you ought to practice shifting,” Tia said, finally breaking her silence.

“Why? I know how to do it now.” N’Than replied, picking up the pace a bit.

“Think how embarrassing it would be if you shifted in some public place, say the market,” Tia said. “Besides, every time you shift, you shift back naked. That just won’t do in a town. I’ve got quite a few petticoats under this skirt, but if you keep suddenly shifting without getting rid of the petticoat, I won’t have any and you’ll have to go around naked.”

“Since I know I can shift now I will be able to control when I shift,” N’Than said dismissively. “I’ll just take my clothes off.”

“Oh, really?” Tia said not convinced.

N’Than lengthened his stride. He really didn’t want to discuss shifting. He felt ashamed of his behaviour the day before.

Tia screamed, pointing into the dimness of the forest. N’Than shifted, leaping to stand between Tia and the forest.

*What? What?* His nose quivered, trying to detect the threat. His large ears flicking to locate it.

“There’s nothing there,” Tia said with a satisfied smile. “You see, you shifted without thinking. You need to practice so you can control it. “She rubbed at her eyes.

“That wasn’t fair. I was startled. It won’t happen again,” N’Than said, shifting back, naked again. He looked around for the petticoat but couldn’t find it. With heightened colour in his cheeks he started to walk again annoyed at her trick but stopped when he realised she hadn’t followed him.

“N’Than, could you shift again? Please,” Tia asked in a faint voice.

“Oh for the gods sake.”

“Just do it, once more,” she asked.

N’Than reluctantly shifted. “Could you look to your left?” N’Than looked towards his left. Tia, kept her eyes on N’Than. “Now look at your hoofs.”

*Why?* he asked and looked down.

“I think we have a problem,” she croaked, sitting down and putting her head between her legs.

N’Than shifted back, kneeling beside Tia. “Are you sick?” he asked worried.

Tia shook her head. “Can you look at the stump please?”

“What’s wrong with the stump?” N’Than asked.

“I don’t know. No, I do know and there’s nothing wrong with the stump.” Tia rubbed at her eyes and then looked around. “Every time you shift, I see what you see.”

N’Than stared at her. “You can see what I see? How?”

“How do I know? But it makes me queasy,” she snapped at him. “We must have some sort of connection.” She stared at him as if the solution was written on his face. “Twins can sometimes hear each other,” she muttered more to herself then to him. Tia shivered. “I wonder if it’s permanent.”

“But we’re not twins,” N’Than said. “We’re not even blood relatives.”

“Blood — N’Than did you swallow some of my blood when you were trying to get rid of the poison?”

“I couldn’t help it. I had to make sure I got all the poison.”

“Do you think that’s what has made the connection? I can hear you when you’re an elk, in my head and see what you see.” Tia frowned. “I wonder what else we can do.”

N’Than shook his head. “I don’t know. No one talked about shifting with me. Maybe that’s why hunters don’t kill a shifter. Maybe there is someone with them who would know that they were who they were.”

“Sounds reasonable. There wouldn’t be very many shifters if they could be killed by anybody walking by.” Tia stood up, pulled off another layer of petticoat and handed it to N’Than. “I suppose we’ll figure things out as we go along, particularly if you practice. You have to be able to control your shift no matter what’s going on around you and I have to figure out how to see what I actually see and not what you’re looking at.”

N’Than did not want to practice. “Look, it’s not like I’m a mage or something. Once I’m home I won’t have to shift ever again,” he said as he adjusted the petticoat around his hips.

Tia shook her head. “Power isn’t just about being able to do spells. It’s learning how to control what you have, like another sense or talent.” She frowned as she sought words to explain. “It’s like being able to sing. Not everyone can sing, not everyone can use power.” She shook her head not happy with that explanation. “It’s like you have more strength than normal. You have to learn to control that strength or you might hurt someone.”

“It’s not like I hurt anyone when I shift,” N’Than said.

“There’s lots of stories of people who aren’t mages but have power being consumed by their power.”

N’Than looked skeptical. “It’s true,” Tia insisted. “I’ve heard stores. My old teacher knew a boy, the son of a merchant. He didn’t have much, just a trace. His father refused to send him for training. He didn’t see the point since it was more economical for him to learn the family business then to control the little bit of power he had since he wasn’t going to be even a minor mage. So the boy stayed home and the power built within him until it consumed him one night, burning his house down to the ground and killing everyone, including the father. Power has to be managed. It doesn’t matter how much or how little.”

“Hearsay.”

“No it’s not just old wives tales.” Tia stomped her foot at him.

“All right, all right I’ll practice,” N’Than said. He didn’t want to but it looked to him like Tia wasn’t going to let him be. He hoped he wouldn’t forget himself. He did like to be an elk but he really didn’t want to be one permanently.

The rain continued and they had difficulty finding dry wood. N’Than worried about Tia. She spent most of the time shivering from the cold and damp, wringing out her clothes as soon as the rain stopped only to have them soaked again when the rain started up. At night she curled up against him in his elk shape because it was warmer. He removed his loin cloth every time he went to shift. The creeping cold of the fall didn’t bother him as his thick hair kept him warm. Fortunately they were able to find water easily, although the fishing became spotty as the fish moved into the deep pools in preparation for the winter. The berries and tubers they were using for food were starting to rot from the constant damp and it wasn’t long before he professed his preference for eating grass to the monotony of the few dried berries and tubers they found, leaving more for Tia. She rode more than walked to conserver her energy. Both hoped to find a road or a village soon. Neither discussed what would happen to Tia if they didn’t.

The forest had begun to thin out with obvious signs of clear cut harvesting from many years before. The new trees were thin and spindly with weeds and prickly bushes everywhere. They finally came upon a road in another drizzle. Although it was not much more than a track, it looked well-travelled with deep ruts and mud churned up from wheels and hoofs.

*Do you think we’re near a town?* N’Than asked. Tia had been riding in silence more and more as she tried to conserve her energy.

“I devotedly hope so,” she murmured. “I think I’m starting to develop mould.”

They followed the road until, during a break in the rain, they could see roofs in a small valley.

“We might be able to get some things in the village,” Tia said. “Real food would be nice.”

N’Than who had been in his elk form, shifted, looking down the road as Tia handed another of her petticoats to him. “You look like a vagrant and I look like one of those mad mendicants who preach the end of the world,” he commented. “I’m not sure it’s safe for us. Most villages aren’t particularly friendly to beggars and we don’t have any money.” N’Than looked back at Tia who was playing with her collar. “We could sell your collar.” N’Than stepped closer to get a look at it.

“No. I’m not selling it.”

“Are you planning on stealing what we need?”

Tia shook her head “I’m not a thief!”

“We don’t have anything else to sell. We might not get much for it but it’s better than nothing. I’m sure that someone will want to buy it if only for the iron and brass. There’s always someone who uses scrap metals.”

“It’s not iron and brass.”

N’Than raised an eyebrow

“It’s not. It’s gold and silver and there is no way we could sell it and even if there was, I wouldn’t,” she said sounding annoyed at his suggestion.

“Did some lover tell you that when he gave it to you?” He gave a short laugh. “You never struck me as naive. I know what silver and gold looks like and that isn’t it.”

Tia grabbed onto her collar and glowered at N’Than. “It just looks likes iron and brass so no one will try and steal it.” Tia turned away from N’Than to look down the road. “Listen,” she said.

N’Than opened his mouth to continue to argue and then heard what Tia had heard; the sound of horses approaching. N’Than grabbed Tia and pulled her back into the woods just as the lead horse hove into view. “What,” Tia started to say when N’Than covered her mouth.

“Shh, we don’t know who is on the roads,” N’Than whispered.

Tia fell silent and watched as the two riders came into view, leading a pack horse. The two men were arguing over something.

“Look Bradon, you don’t have to like it, you just have to do it,” one man said to the other.

“I’m not a damn errand boy,” Bradon growled back. “Moons, do you think it’s ever going to stop raining,” he complained.

N’Than felt sick to his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Tia asked once the two men were past. “You look upset.”

“The pack horse, it was Rin’s,” N’Than said quietly.

“And Rin is?”

“A friend. He was with me when the bandits attacked.”

“Are you sure it’s his horse. I didn’t recognise those men.”

“That was Rin’s horse,” N’Than insisted. “We can’t go down there. Not now.”

“We can’t stay in the woods either,” Tia objected. “Maybe they’re just passing through.”

“Then where are the rest of them?”

“We need food and clothes, at least I do, and some sort of cover. The only place we’re going to get them is in the village.”

“If you won’t sell your collar there’s no point in going down there. If they notice you they might grab you again. All that effort to escape wasted and they don’t even have to go to Brac to sell you. Then can get a pretty penny in Langdon.”

“I thought Langdon didn’t recognise slavery,” Tia said.

“It doesn’t but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Bond law is common and all they have to do is produce a piece of paper showing you are in debt. They add the money for any clothes, food and shelter they provide to it and you’re stuck in virtual slavery.”

“I have to take that chance. I need food even if you don’t,” Tia snapped.

“So what are you going to use if you won’t sell the collar?” N’Than asked, wiping some of the rain drops off his face.

Tia gave N’Than a tight smile as she sat down suddenly. N’Than watched her, puzzled, as she picked away at the hem of her skirt. She finally got a hole big enough that she was able to wiggle a gold coin out of the hem. N’Than stared at it in surprise.

“How did you keep that from the bandits?” he asked.

“They didn’t check the clothes I was wearing. My mother taught me that when I was travelling to always keep a few coins hidden in my clothes. Most robbers know to look for purses under shirts and in belts hidden beneath clothes but not sewn into the hems of skirts. Now all we have to do is break it up.” She showed him the coin, already scored into quarters. “I can’t use a whole gold coin. That would raise too many questions but if I had a quarter coin it wouldn’t look as suspicious. It’ll be safer if only one of us goes and I’m better dressed than you.”

“Even a quarter would look questionable when you look like a beggar,” N’Than pointed out

Tia looked down at her bare feet and the torn and filthy skirt. “You’re right.” She played with her collar and thought. Abruptly she left him to walk along the edge of the forest looking for something. She came back holding a long leafy vine which she tied around her waist, the brightly coloured leaves fanning out over the top of her skirt and then wrung out her skirt.

“You look like a harvest clown. Are you going to perform?” N’Than asked curious about what she was doing.

Tia stood there staring blankly in front of her, one hand on her collar and then the leaves trembled. When they stopped, her dress looked neat and tidy. There were no rips and the stains and dirt were gone.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked brightly, rubbing her neck. It prickled a little.

“How did you do that?”

“It’s an illusion. Something like what I did back at the bandits’ camp.”

How long can you hold it?” N’Than asked.

“I’ve tied it to the vine and leaves so it should hold for a while. I can keep it going with just a little trickle of power,” Tia said.

“So why do we need to buy clothes? You can just make me some clothes and I’ll come with you.”

“It’s more complicated than that. The illusion is thin, based on what I’m actually wearing.” She pulled at her skirt “I can’t make something from nothing and you don’t have anything I can use. If you had trousers and a shirt, I could do something but you don’t. And we still need something to keep the rain off.”

N’Than looked down at the scrap of material clinging to his hips. “Why can’t you just make this look like trousers? You said you made the bundle of sticks look like us, so why can’t you make an illusion of them?”

“Clothes are more difficult. It’s not just making it look right; it has to move right and feel right if someone brushes against you. I layered the sticks with a suggestion spell. It didn’t take much power, so their mage wouldn’t feel it and I didn’t have to be there to hold it but as soon as someone touched it, it would break. With clothes, I’d have to hold the illusion for both of us and that would use a lot of power, more than I have available. And anyways they wouldn’t’ provide any warmth and I’d just be exhausted for nothing.”

Not really convinced, but not knowing if she was telling the truth, N’Than changed tacks. “It’s too dangerous for you to go in there alone!”

“N’Than, I’m not a princess who’s going to faint or have hysterics at the first sign of danger. I’ll keep away from those men, get us some clothes and food and be back before you know I’m gone. They won’t be looking for a lone woman dressed like this. I can’t make an illusion for you and dressed like you are, we will attract their attention. This is safer.”

“No.”

“I need food and we both need warm clothes. Do you have another plan?”

“It’s not safe.”

“N’Than be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable. It’s you that isn’t.”

“I’m going,” Tia said through gritted teeth and left.

Tia stomped her way down the road as the rain slackened off and finally stopped. How could he be so dense? If the bandits were looking from them, they’d be looking for two of them. And why would he think he could order her to stay. She at least needed clothes and food and the only place she would find it was here. She fingered the gold coin wondering how much it would cost for a place on a caravan going toward Langfestol. She didn’t have to stay with N’Than. She’d get him some clothes and then find a caravan. First things first, she’d have find a smith and ‘borrow’ a hammer and chisel to break the coin and the manacle then buy clothes and food. It would have been easier if N’Than was with her. He could have distracted the smith, but then he would have attracted attention. On balance this was the better plan.

The road into the village was barred with a wall of thorn bushes and an open gate but no gate keeper. The village itself looked like it had seen more prosperous days. The homes appeared cobbled together with old wood; repairs over top of older repairs until the homes looked like they would collapse like so much kindling in the next winter storm. Tia wondered about this since they had a forest at their door step where they could cut new wood, although it would be more than a day’s walk to find suitable timber. The rain had finally stopped, which gave her a good view of the village. Most of the front yards were devoted to vegetables, only the late ripening squashes left, humps among the detritus of the summer garden, while the back yards were almost non-existent; a fence of thorn bushes running down behind the houses, just beyond the privies. Was the whole town surrounded by a fence? Tia followed the buzz of voices to the town square. There was a little waver in her vision, which Tia realized meant N’Than had shifted. Feeling a little smug that she didn’t feel nauseous, she hoped he wouldn’t wander off too far.

The square, when she got there, was surrounded on three sides by shops whose front doors opened onto the village green and were divided one from the other by mucky alleys. On the fourth side was a tavern, a story and a half tall with two smaller buildings behind. She could see the thorn fence behind the tavern. The centre of the square, normally a grassy area where villagers would graze animals was a muddy hive of activity. The animals had been penned to one side. The thick smell of mud and animal dung made her want to hold her nose. A travelling troupe was setting up a stage and barefoot children were running between the actors as they struggled to get the backdrop into position and the stage covered before it started to rain again. Other members of the troupe were doing impromptu scenes around the edges to excited women and children and the village men clustered by the tavern drinking. Tia was deafened with the shouts of the performers, yelling children, half-drunk bickering villagers, and the complaints of unhappy animals. After days in the silent woods she was confused and unnerved by the noise and bustle. She shrank against the wall of a shop, struggling to not cover her ears from the cacophony. Her head started to pound. She took a deep breath and focused on what she needed; clothes, food and maybe information about the bandits. At least with performers and visitors to see the performers in town, she did not stand out as a stranger.

She made a cautious circuit around the village green looking down the alleys for the smith’s shop to break her gold coin. She didn’t want to ask anyone but was just preparing to do that when she noticed the smell of burning metal coming from the alley she was passing. She walked down the lane avoiding the larger puddles to find the smithy, set away from the rest of the village buildings. She peeked in the door, calling quietly but there was no one there. The smith and his apprentice were probably at the tavern drinking, or so she hoped. She quickly made her way behind the counter and started rummaging around on a work bench when she heard a voice calling out as it approached the smithy door. Tia ducked down below the bench hoping that if no one came out to reply to the hail, the person would go away. The square rectangle of light that was the door darkened as the hailer peered into the shop.

“Torens, are you there?”

She held her breath and tried to scrunch down lower, bumping the bench slightly and causing a small ball peen hammer to fall. Tia grabbed her collar and concentrated on being nothing but a shadow behind the bench.

“Torens?” The figure moved into the shop to look over the counter.

Tia held her breath and funneled what little power she had available into the illusion of a shadow.

“Bradon is he there? If you can’t see him he’s probably at the tavern. We’ll find him there.”

Bradon hovered by the counter peering around. Tia felt sweat starting to gather at her temples.

“I want to catch some of the performance before we have to go back to camp,” the man outside called to Bradon.

Oh, gods and moons, they were the men she saw riding along the road. Why didn’t she have N’Than with her? Sweat slid into her eyes, making them sting.

“We’ve got to get the horse’s shoe replaced. Angris didn’t say anything about sticking around.”

“Yah, yah, yah, we still have to sell this junk load of things. We’ll leave the horse here, go to the tavern find Torens so he can get the horse shod, then we’ll see what we get for this stuff from that thief of a peddler and then watch some of the performance.”

Go with him, go on, you want to see the performance, Tia thought at Bradon. Bradon hovered; then Tia heard his footsteps scuffling away. The two men talked a moment longer as they tied the horse to the ring outside. Tia started to count the seconds, praying they didn’t meet Toren’s on his way back to the shop. After a minute, she slowly peeked over the bench. The doorway was a bright light in the dark. She rose quickly, wiping the sweat from her eyes before picking up the hammer. She started looking franticly for a chisel. There had to be one here under the tangle of tools and metal scraps. How could the smith find anything in this mess? She finally found it, under a piece of iron. She sat on the floor with her knee bent and carefully placed the chisel on the manacle then wacked the chisel as hard as she could. It slipped and scoured her ankle. She whimpered a little but put the chisel back onto the manacle and hit the hammer harder. The manacle broke along the line of rust. She ripped a piece off her skirt and wrapped the cut, then she quickly cut her coin into four and fled the building, the coin pieces clutched in her sweaty palm.

Tia scurried down the alley towards the village green, jumping around puddles, only slowing when she rounded the corner. She forced herself to limp slowly along the side of the green and looked for the village store. It wasn’t far from the smithy’s alley and, like the houses, was in need of repairs. The door was warped and she had to push hard to enter. The store sold mostly used clothing, jumbled on tables with only a smattering of new. She stopped at the table holding trews and estimated N’Than’s size quickly, deciding on two pairs with draw string waists. She picked up some smaller trews holding them against her to check the size for herself; so much more practical. The skirts needed petticoats and they were cumbersome. The clerk cleared his throat as she stood motionless trying to decide. Women soldiers wore them; skirts were a bother on horseback and useless in a fight. But they had no horses and it didn’t seem right to expect N’Than to carry her wherever she wanted and she wasn’t going to fight. She flung the trousers down on the table and stepped over to where the skirts and petticoats were jumbled in a heap. She quickly gathered up what she needed, barely checking the size. Practicality be damned. She would not, she would absolutely not need trews. She quickly selected tops for the two of them and two warm coats with a coating of oil. It took a while since most of the clothes had been well worn, but eventually she found things which she thought would do. After dumping the clothes on the counter in front of the clerk, she found two bags to put their things in, two water bottles, a large cooking pot and another smaller one, a tarp and a sewing kit.

She wasn’t great at bargaining but the surly clerk appeared to want her out of his store as fast as possible. Maybe he was in a hurry to see the troupe, so he wasn’t prepared to haggle all day. The purchases made a sizeable dent in her money but there was still enough for something to eat. She went out wearing one of the coats to see what the village had to offer in the way of food. The village was humming with strangers and villagers mingling, albeit with reluctance from the villagers. Realising that she would not stand out and that the bandits did not know her, she limped with confidence around the square, even asking where the butcher shop was located. Her head started to hurt more but then she was hungry and thirsty.

Tia stopped by the butcher and bought some bread, sausage and cheese. She was getting used to the curtness of the village people as the butcher quickly counted out her change. She found the public fountain, it’s raggedly broken edge making it hard to find a spot to balance while she filled the water bottles. She drank most of one bottle and noticed as she was refilling it that the women were watching her suspiciously and the children were being hustled away from where she was standing. Strangers were obviously feared but there was nothing she could do about that. Feeling hungry and lightheaded, Tia found a quiet spot where she could eat. There was no point in fainting from hunger on her way back to N’Than. Instead she pulled out some of the bread and cheese and watched the performers set up, marveling at the taste of the food which she ate slowly, in small bites. The noise didn’t seem to assault her as much, although her head still hurt. She tapped her foot to the music of a performer near her feeling content. After the escape and quiet of the forest it was nice to be surrounded by people. Perhaps she could find a group travelling towards Langfestol - safety in numbers. Maybe there might be someone at the tavern who would know about any caravans that came through. She put the remains of her meagre meal into the bag and walked towards the tavern. As she got closer she could see the men who had spilt out of the tavern were more drunk than sober, pinching at the bar maid and calling to the few women who scurried by. Perhaps she was being too hasty to think she didn’t need N’Than. She turned to leave when a small booth caught her eye. Spread out on a table in front were swords and daggers, and bows hung along the wall. Tia almost salivated. She could use a bow and a knife and if she could get N’Than a sword they’d be set. Ennobled by her success with the general store clerk she marched over to examine the merchandise. She checked the edge on a knife and sword and picked up a bow testing its flex.

“It’s unlikely you can afford any of those things,” the shop keeper told her brusquely. “I’ve got a bin of things over there which are more your price range.”

Tia looked over to where he was pointing and sighed. He was right. These weren’t the best knives but they were certainly worth a few silver. It wasn’t wise to appear to have that much money. She wandered over trying to decide if a poor blade which might break when needed was better than no blade. She rooted through the pile and came up with a knife whose tip was broken off, a sword whose blade edge looked like it had been nibbled on by mice and another knife mottled with rust. She then noticed other bows leaning against the side of booth behind the bin. There were in a jumble and she slowly sorted through them, picking up one to test its flex. When she removed it from the wall she noticed a small bow which had fallen down on the ground behind the others. In disbelief, she picked it up and dusted the encrusted mud and dirt off it. The bow looked like a toy compared to the others. She couldn’t believe her luck. She mentally added up what money was left. N’Than did need a sword and they both needed knives but she wanted that bow.

“You don’t want that,” the clerk said as he took the bow from her. “It’s not a real bow, way too small. I don’t know what kind of wood it is and see the carvings along here? It was obviously meant as decoration because it’s impossible to bend.” He attempted to flex the bow but couldn’t get it to bend even a little.” He threw the bow onto the ground. “It’s no use to anyone. It came with an assortment of better goods or I wouldn’t have wasted my time with it.”

Tia winced at the sight of the bow in the mud. “How much for the knives and this sword?”

“A silver,” the clerk replied eyeing her worn clothes.

“A silver! That’s robbery,” Tia replied.

“Ten coppers for the sword and eight for the knives,” the man blustered.

“I’ll give you eight coppers for the sword and four for the knives. I also need arrows and you can throw that bow in for free. It’s pretty; I can hang it on a wall. No one else wants it and it’s only taking up space.” She tried to keep her tone nonchalant hoping he would assume she had a bow at home.

“Look, sweet cheeks, that’s robbery.”

“Which is probably how you got these things,” she replied.

They settled on ten coppers for the sword, five for the knives, two for the bow and another ten for two dozen arrows and an extra waxed bow string. Tia went away grumbling about cut throat clerks. The clerk snapped back about pushy women but was secretly pleased he had gotten rid of the bow at a profit.

Satisfied with her bargaining, Tia paused in the square to watch the tumbling. Running her hand along the bow, for the first time she dared hope she’d get out of this in one piece. Humming to herself, she headed out of town to find N’Than.