Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) (22 page)

There were quiet voices within the wagon.
Shette
. Her throat sounded thick with tears recently shed.

"I don't understand it," she said. "Why has everything
changed
? It was good, being on the caravan, and having Ehren with us, and being able to follow you in the wagon. Now there's no wagon, and the mules are dead, and... and Ehr... Ehr..." She made a little choking noise and gave a great sniffle.

"Shette," Laine said, nothing more than her name in a big brother's comforting voice. The noise of cloth against cloth gave Ehren an image of Laine's arm around her shoulder.

"And your dreams, they're so scary now." Still ragged, Shette persevered. "You can't believe what it's like to watch— it didn't used to be like this!"

"Shhh," Laine said, and paused. "No, he's still asleep. Good. You're right. It didn't used to be like this. The Dreams... used to be something I could look forward to." He said
dreams
differently than Shette somehow.

"Tell me about the old kind of dreams," Shette said. It was the request of a child who knows a story by heart, but wants it again anyway.

"The old kind of Dreams," Laine repeated, and snorted softly. "All right. I used to see... Mum and Da when they met. He loved her almost right away— though he was in big trouble at the time, chasing a stag where he shouldn't have been. He was tall, like Ehren, and she looked a lot like you. And sometimes I see the way he sneaked across the Barrenlands to court her."

Sluggish as his thoughts were, Ehren knew this to be wrong. No one could cross the Barrenlands. Its effect on human senses was devastating, and not far from the state in which he'd spent these last, interminable hours. No one but those with spelled dispensation, which only the countries' rulers could give out, stepped into the Barrenlands and lived.

"They went on night rides together. He brought her gifts of exotic flowers, and a pair of the small-eared rabbits that she still breeds at home. Knew just how to get through to her."

"He still does," Shette said, somewhat dreamily. "And then they ran away together."

"To the noble end of raising cattle— and raising us. And Da doesn't chase those grasslands stags anymore. He says he caught what he was looking for on that chase that took him across the Barrenlands."

Dannel had chased a stag across the Barrenlands, stumbling into Therand just outside the borders of the Clan Grannor T'ieran's summer home. Stumbling into Jenorah as well.
Dannel and Jenorah.
Ehren couldn't help the small sound that escaped his throat.

Instant silence fell on the other side of the wagon. After a moment, Shette said softly, "Ehren?"

But Ehren was drifting away again. And this time he had plenty to think about.

~~~~~

"I hope you've got a good hold on him," Laine said fervently as Shaffron skittered away and up against Sevita's wagon. Holding a fractious horse through the open panels of the wagon was an awkward task at the best of times— and Ehren was far from strong.

"I've got him." Rather than tightening the lead, Ehren gave a hint of slack. "Shaffron, son... ease up a bit. It's your very own blanket and it won't eat you."

"Then again," Laine said, more cheerfully as he got the blanket settled on the chestnut's back, "on this road, you never can be sure."

Ehren snorted. So did Shaffron, sticking his nose just inside the wagon to do it. "Thank you very much." Ehren said dryly, but tugged on the horse's chin while he was at it. Laine took advantage of the distraction to lower Shaffron's saddle to his back. The horse promptly snapped at him, his teeth clicking shut just inches from Laine's arm as the lead rope brought him up short.

Laine skipped back out of range. "I hope this gets easier— we've got quite a few days left on this road."

"It might not," Ehren said. "I trained him pretty thoroughly."

"You did this on purpose?" Laine said incredulously, warily reaching under Shaffron's belly to grab the girth. "You taught him to be vicious?"

"I taught them both to accept no hand but mine," Ehren corrected him. "They won't bother anyone who doesn't reach for them."

"I don't suppose you thought about this situation when you did it," Laine said, tightening the girth a careful notch by notch.

Ehren shook his head, looking more wan than he'd probably admit to feeling. "It's not always convenient, but it's served me well. Ricasso accepts you now— though I wouldn't try to ride him."

"No fear of that," Laine said. He settled the pack tree over the saddle, securing crupper and breast band. Shaffron watched him with a rolled eye, his lips twitching sporadically along with little Laine-aimed jerks of his head.

As Laine stepped back to survey the bundled goods ready to sling over the pack tree, Ehren said, "You and Shette were in the wagon last night."

"We sat with you a while," Laine said, busying his hands with the packing, paying special attention to the knots. "We weren't sure until well after dark that you were really going to make it."

"Dajania had a spell," Ehren said, frowning a little. "I seem to remember... don't I?"

Laine grinned. "You do. I'm surprised, though. Between the pain-slip and that infection, I'm surprised you remember anything of yesterday." He thought, briefly, of the family stories he'd told Shette. They were the sorts of Dreams that had upset his parents, and therefore things that were for no one's ears but Shette's. He'd been sure, at least for a moment, that Ehren had been awake.

Ehren grimaced. "I'm lucky they had that spell."

"It's a new thing, Dajania says." Laine tied a sack of grain and mentally balanced it off with the leather bag holding horseshoes and nails. "Some of the, umm, less official local wizards are setting spells into stones and crystals— Therand hasn't sanctioned it yet. Dajania said the structure of the stones are supposed to help preserve the structure of the spell just as well as the fancy rings the High Level wizards charge so much for. And then anyone who knows how can trigger it."

Ehren lifted an eyebrow. "That's going to make those High Level wizards pretty unhappy."

"It saved your life yesterday," Laine said soberly. "I don't have any doubt about that." He'd seen the sudden glow around the wagon from his downhill vantage; even from there the Sight had been drawn to it.

"I agree." But Ehren's voice held stress, and Laine returned to his task with purpose, intent on finishing before Ehren might lose his grip on the lead— or more likely, wear himself into a set-back while refusing to let that happen.

Dajania drifted in close— albeit not
too
close. "Almost done?"

Laine didn't look up from the knot at hand, tying a final hitch. "I hope so."

"Ansgare wants to get moving. If we push it hard, we can make the Trade Road early tomorrow."

Cued by the displeasure in her voice, Laine stepped back from the horse to look at her. She saw the question in his expression and said in a low voice, "It'd be better if he weren't traveling at all."

"No doubt," Ehren said, ignoring the fact that he wasn't supposed to be listening. "But I'll do."

She made an exasperated noise. "All right, then. Drink down this wine, then, and don't fight me. I saw it on your face this morning— you don't want it. You're too used to being in charge of yourself. Well, join the rest of us and swallow."

"Dajania," Ehren said— just that word, for the moment, while she stood all haughty with the rough pottery mug in hand— haughty and maybe even trembling just a little. That his voice turned gentle came as a surprise to Laine. "I'm all right now. I'm going to stay all right. And I'll drink your wine."

Laine looked away as Dajania smeared an angry tear from her cheek and gave Shaffron wide berth to reach the back of the wagon. By the time she climbed in, Ehren had threaded the frayed lead rope through the throatlatch of the halter and around Shaffron's neck, tying it off so he couldn't step on it. "All right, Dajania. I'm all yours."

"Don't forget it," she said, but she sat gently along the side of the bed and helped steady the mug when he reached for it.

Laine figured they'd finished with Shaffron just in time.

He patted the side of the wagon in a gesture of departure, and headed for the new lead wagon, where Ansgare waited with Machara. The wagon itself belonged to Vitia, who sold cloth goods and could whip up a quick alteration as well. Hers was a big, sturdy wagon, an emblem of her success over the years. She'd readily handed over the reins to Machara, preferring to ride several wagons back with Ansgare.

"I don't think we'll have any trouble," Laine said, trying to ease the tension gathered between Ansgare's eyes. "I bet we came up on that wizard from behind— and that means we should be clear of him going forward."

Ansgare grunted unresponsively, looking at Machara. "You be careful. Don't get into anything stupid."

"You say the sweetest things," Machara replied, straight-faced.
Too
straight-faced. Laine looked at Ansgare in surprise, and a grin crept onto his face as he understood. Ansgare, in anticipation of the caravan dissolution, had spoken out to Machara.
Finally
.

"You wipe that look off your face," Ansgare told Laine. "I'm still your boss, at least for the next few days. Show some respect."

Laine sketched a quick and careless bow, and Ansgare dismissed him with a wave of his hand and a grunt. "Smart-ass youngster," he said, and walked away, adding over his shoulder, "You keep your eyes open, both the black and the blue!"

"That's my job," Laine said, and climbed up into the wagon, settling himself beside Machara, where the grin sneaked back onto his face.

"Unlike Ansgare, I can whip you silly," she said. "Even if Ehren
has
been giving you lessons."

Laine promptly turned his attention frontward.

Machara gathered the reins and clucked to the team, a pair of confident draft mules. When Machara asked them to turn downhill from the trail, they did it without hesitation, their neat mule hooves treading carefully in the uneven footing, ably controlling their descent speed. They hit the creek and turned into it, the wagon lurching behind them.

They traveled along the creek without problem, navigating territory that Laine had already scouted once that day. The rest of the wagons followed without incident, leaving only Bessney's damaged equipment behind, perched on the side of the hill— forlorn and empty, with no guarantees any of them would ever make it back here to recover it.

Laine looked away, blinking his eyes so they were clear enough to scan the path ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER TEN

Ehren sat on Dajania's wagon bed, one foot on the floor and the injured leg stretched out before him, as they entered the edges of the Therand border town— a town far more significant than the station by Solvany's border. Here, the rugged border mountains gradually faded away, rippling into hills that spread out into Therand; the merchants in this area had room to sprawl.

It took him a few moments to notice the wagon had stopped. It shifted as the women disembarked, and Ehren sat alone with his pain-slip hazy thoughts as the caravan halted in a loose grouping.

Decision time.
For the first time in weeks he took the ring off his neck and fitted it on his finger, fumbling slightly as it slid into place. Against his chest, it transmitted a sense of itself, but the impressions lacked clarity. Now it left no doubt— it wanted him to turn around for Loraka, and it wanted that
now
.

Damn.
Until the avalanche, he'd been slipping the ring onto his little finger several times a day to check its indications— since then, it hadn't crossed his mind.
What little I have of it.
It meant he had no idea when they'd passed the spot where the ring stopped wanting him to move forward and began prompting him elsewhere.

The delicate silver band began broadcasting sudden new excitement, and Ehren frowned at it, pulling it off with a decisive movement as Laine rounded the back of wagon.

"Hey," Laine said, by way of greeting. "How're you feeling?"

"I have the mind of a turnip," Ehren said promptly. "We've crossed the border?"

"Almost. We're just on the outskirts of T'ieranguard. We'll have one of the inspectors come here and go through the wagons; it's easier that way. There's a lot of business to be had in town, not like the border going into Solvany. Our stopover here is usually twice as long as that one." He grimaced, and said, "Usually. I don't know what's going to happen this time. There's a big gathering tonight."

Ehren eased his leg into a more comfortable position. "What are
your
plans?"

"Same thing I came to ask you. Me, I usually break off from the road a ways back and spend the stopover with my family." He sighed, looking away from Ehren and toward the town. "Ansgare's going to buy me a pack saddle— he wants to give me the price of the mules, too, though it wasn't written into the contract that way."

Ehren wasn't surprised to discover Laine could read. Not after what he'd heard the other night— barely remembered, but slowly trickling back to the surface.

"Generous," he said, not really thinking about Ansgare at all. After all he'd been through with Laine, after he'd grown to look upon Laine as a friend in this world where Ehren now had so few he could trust... he suddenly had a terrible choice to make.

For completing this assignment would no doubt mean betraying Laine.

But if he didn't do it— if he walked away— he'd lose everything. Worse, he'd betray Benlan.

And Laine had no idea. "Ansgare
is
generous, when he doesn't stop to think about it," he said, cheerfully unaware. "For now, I'll load what's left of our stuff on Nell and take Shette home. Then I guess I'll have to do some thinking. Depends on what the merchants decide tonight." He gave Ehren a direct look and said, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Ehren asked, with the feeling that he should have been able to follow the conversational leap.
A turnip. Definitely a turnip.