Flecks of Gold (36 page)

Wow, first he says Breeohan is treating me like a child, but then he turns right around and accuses me of the same thing.
“What a hypocrite!” I must have muttered the last bit, because Breeohan coughed and quickly covered his face to hide a smile. Rafan regarded me with narrowed eyes before widening them to a look of polite inquiry.

“You should never assume, Rafan.” My voice was dripping icicles. “I’ve been in places where I was surrounded by hundreds of people who were jammed together so tightly there was hardly room to turn. This little market is nothing to that.”

“I stand corrected, my lady, but you must admit that you may not know the customs and behavior of this people as well as you do your own. Do you think it possible that the man was simply admiring you?”

“If he was just looking, why did he follow me?”

“There aren’t many paths to walk in this bazaar. Perhaps he was just shopping in the same direction as you,” Rafan replied.

My eyebrows were tense in an angry glare. Rafan’s explanation sounded entirely plausible. It also made me look like a silly girl with an overactive anxiety complex. I opened my mouth to defend myself but snapped it shut again. If I argued further with him, it would just make me seem more childish. I wasn’t sure what Rafan’s motivations were, but it occurred to my surly self that even if I did convince Breeohan that I wasn’t imagining things, it would only make him more inclined to head to the first boat sailing back to the king rather than continue on toward Mom.

“It is possible he could have just been admiring you.” Breeohan looked at me apologetically. “Could you tell he was specifically pursuing you rather than just following the same road?”

“There isn’t any way I can prove it.” I gritted my teeth.

“Then I think we should wait for the king here. To go any closer to Kelteon would be foolish,” Breeohan said.

“Not necessarily. We are a small enough group that we could scout out the area for the king. With our help, he will be better prepared to deal with Kelteon when he comes,” Rafan said.

“And if we are caught, what then? We would be handing Kelteon more leverage on a platter,” Breeohan said, hissing the words. I noticed the vest vendor wasn’t even pretending to not listen anymore. Breeohan shepherded Rafan and me in the direction of the inn, but in our slow huddle, we were more a roadblock than moving traffic.

“So long as we keep the chameleon lacing active, there won’t be any question of us getting caught,” Rafan assured.

My personal humiliation was forgotten in the intensity of my desire to find Mom. I prayed that Breeohan wouldn’t remember that the chameleon lacing didn’t make you completely invisible nor did it stop you from making noise.

“That might be true, but it isn’t necessary for us to be the scouts. We can wait for the king and his men and teach them the lacing,” Breeohan retorted.

Grrr. Why did Breeohan always have to be so difficult? If only he were a little less sharp, I thought morosely. But wishing wouldn’t accomplish anything. I needed a plan. “Let’s think of this logically, Breeohan,” I said in a rush, trying to come up with something as I talked. “Let’s say we get straight back on a boat and head for the king. How are we to know exactly where he is at this point? We know he’s coming our way, but not what route he’s taken. What if he decided to put the horses and his men on several ships to save time? We could pass right by them without even meeting him.”

Breeohan opened his mouth, but I held up my hand to forestall him. “We could, as you suggested, just wait here in Boparra, but that could be as much of a problem as heading back toward the king. I might have just imagined I saw someone following me, but what if I didn’t? That would mean that my location is known. The longer we stay here, the more opportunity someone will have to kidnap me, right? So the only thing to do would be to move on to the next place where we know the king will be, but this time be careful that no one sees exactly where we go.” I gasped in a much needed breath after that barrage, hoping Breeohan wouldn’t find any flaws in my reasoning.

Both Breeohan and Rafan were silent. I looked up to see a smirk of satisfaction on Rafan’s face and a scowl of concentration on Breeohan’s.

“You’re right.” The words dragged out grudgingly from Breeohan’s lips. “I left a message for the king at Cardo, but there’s no telling how close to us he is right now. We will have to get our supplies and move on as we’d planned,” he finished reluctantly.

“Good. Let’s go shopping.” A small sigh escaped my lips, and Breeohan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he said nothing more.

I didn’t think Breeohan completely dismissed my stalker because though we didn’t hold each other’s shirttails, he did keep me firmly in front of him.

By the time we purchased everything we needed for traveling, the sun was close to setting. My head was starting to ache from the jabbering crowds and the pervading scent of too many unwashed bodies crammed closely together. I knew I should be starving, but the occasional whiff of cooking meat or roasted sweet root—an Iberloahan sweet—combined with powerful body odor, churned my insides.

My arms were loaded with provisions, and Breeohan and Rafan were equally weighed down. Despite my fatigue, I was on high alert, considering we were practically labeled with fluorescent signs reading, “Easy pickings this way.” I might have said the man in tan and brown was a figment of my imagination, but I didn’t really believe it.

Breeohan seemed to feel more nervous too. He set a brisk pace out of the market and an even more rapid one through the empty city streets. Our worry seemed pointless, however, for we reached the inn without mishap. We stashed our goods into packs, and I was surprised to find that Rafan was the best at making everything fit. I had an Iberloahan pack that I would carry as well as my faithful backpack, making me the only one who would be shouldering two bundles.

That night I lay on my mattress, unable to sleep, listening to the soft sounds of uncomfortable shifting against my locked door. I was finally floating on the edge of slumber when I heard the murmur of voices. My eyes fluttered open. I couldn’t distinguish words, but I picked out Rafan’s rough rumble followed by a mumbled reply. It was not Breeohan’s smooth baritone. This voice had a whiny edge.

The exchange was quick. When the hall settled back to silence, I drifted slowly into slumber, wondering absently who Rafan had been talking to.

A knock at my door woke me. I performed a cleaning lacing to de-rumple, then unlocked the door and admitted Rafan.

“Ah, Mary, you are looking lovely this morning, as usual,” Rafan said, bowing.

“Rafan,” I warned.

“Not to worry, my lady. I will not speak of the subject you found so distasteful before,” he replied, flatly. His face was a study of pleasantly raised eyebrows warring with the steely aqua glitter of his eyes.

I was torn between feeling guilty and nervous. “Where’s Breeohan?” At the moment Breeohan’s presence to diffuse the awkwardness between Rafan and me was very high on my wish list.

Rafan glanced to the partially open door as if hoping for the same thing. “He should be here soon. He went to buy the horses.”

“Oh.” The silence stretched unbearably.

“Who were you talking to last night?” I was relieved to find some way to push back the disconcerting quiet.

Rafan stiffened before relaxing into nonchalance. “The innkeeper came to ask if I needed anything.”

“That was nice of him.” I was out of conversation ideas.

There was a light tap on the partially open door before Breeohan slipped into the room. “We’re ready to go. I suggest we don’t use the chameleon lacing until we’ve left the inn and started traveling on a decoy route,” he said.

“That’s fine with me.” I smiled at him gratefully.

We ate a quick breakfast in the inn’s low-tabled dining area before leaving. At the door, I remembered the key.

“You guys go ahead. I forgot to return the key.” I rushed to find the innkeeper.

I had to ask one of the serving maids to point him out, because I hadn’t been paying attention to who Breeohan talked to when we’d arrived. When I reached him, I handed the beautifully twisted key back to him with a twinge of regret.

“Thank you for your business. I hope you have a good journey,” he said in a melodious bass. I froze. Rafan had said that he’d talked to the innkeeper last night, but there was no way that whiny voice could have come from the man standing in front of me. He’d lied. But why? The innkeeper shifted uncomfortably, so I thanked him and walked back outside to Breeohan and Rafan.

They were waiting in the street with three earthy colored horses who all had white around their hooves, like socks. One of the horses had a lead rope tied to the saddle of another. I was happy to see that all three horses had saddles this time, though I felt nervous flutters at the thought of riding alone. Breeohan helped me awkwardly mount the third beast, then efficiently mounted his own as Rafan waited astride his mount.

We rode directly out of the city and headed down a road that curved loosely away from the mountains. I held the saddlehorn tightly, wishing it wasn’t necessary to ride away from the direction that we would really travel. I wanted my pony ride over with as fast as possible. After about twenty minutes, Rafan doubled back to make sure we weren’t being followed. When he returned and informed us that no one was on our tail, we turned the horses around. Breeohan threw another rope for Rafan to tie to his horse, and then we performed the chameleon lacing on ourselves and the horses.

The animals whickered fretfully, and for a dizzying moment I had to cling to my saddle as my mount jerked on his lead and side-stepped almost out from under me. But the horses soon adjusted to the fact that they couldn’t see themselves, and then nothing but the soft clop of hooves indicated our passing.

Whenever someone neared on the wide dirt road, Breeohan veered his horse off the side of the path and halted. Rafan would reign in his horse as well, but all I could do was wait for my horse to bump into the lead mare. It was jolting, but my stallion didn’t seem to get too upset, and he soon learned that a detour off the path meant he should stop. We would then stay quiet until whoever was coming had passed by.

We approached the town of Kerln by early evening. Its thick sandstone wall crouched darkly at the foot of the first towering monolith of the Ziat mountain range. Set against so grand a background, the city seemed small. Its wall was no protection from anything more menacing than paper. As we neared the ten-foot construction, the illusion of frailty shattered, and instead my heart quivered at the thought of being trapped inside such a solid barricade. Two guards stood at the wide gates regarding the people passing through with sharp attention. Rafan, Breeohan, and I rode through on the heels of a cart carrying hay, our horses’ hooves completely camouflaged by the wagon’s creaking.

We slipped through the gates just in time. The two guards braced their bodies between the door and the thick wall before tugging the heavy, thick, black oak doors shut.

Breeohan, Rafan, and I kept the chameleon lacing on until we entered the stables at an inn called “Good Rest.” I looked around to make sure there wasn’t a stable kid around before I undid the lacing. Then I unlaced my horse’s invisibility as well before sliding carefully to the ground. Rafan and Breeohan did the same to themselves and their horses. They were already unsaddling their mounts while I was still wincing at the pins-and-needles feeling in my feet. I waited for the jabbing to stop, and then healed my sore legs. I glanced uncertainly at my own horse’s tack.

“I’ll get that for you, Mary,” Rafan said kindly. I nodded my thanks and let him do the horse stuff while I watched, propped against the stable door.

When we came out of the stable, we surprised a girl coming back from the inn.

“I was having my supper, but I was watching the whole time. I don’t know how I could’ve missed you,” she cried in distress.

“We prefer handling our horses ourselves,” Breeohan assured her. I was disturbed by her genuine fear of being beaten by her master. Even after we’d promised we wouldn’t report her, she looked nervous. I slunk inside hesitantly, feeling suddenly depressed, but then decided to shake off my gloomy thoughts with a distraction.

“Are you going to insist on guarding my door again?” I murmured to Breeohan.

“Yes.”

“It’s dumb. We’d all have a better chance against any attacks if we were in the same room, and it would save money,” I added practically.

“I’m not going to argue this with you, Mary.”

I was stopped from further discussion when a sharp-eyed woman came toward us. The woman proved to be the innkeeper, and she and Breeohan bartered for two rooms right next to each other on the upstairs floor as well as breakfasts and dinners for the next two days. As they talked, the woman regarded us with a harsh stare, and I noticed uneasily that she had arms like a blacksmith. Breeohan, noting her glare and crossed arms, paid in advance. We sat cross-legged on pillows at the low table where I stared into a meatloaf soup that looked about as appetizing as dung. I wanted to reopen my discussion with Rafan and Breeohan, but as soon as I opened my mouth, Breeohan cut me off. “I don’t think we should talk here. There are too many people.”