[Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers (27 page)

Yim let out an exasperated sigh and crawled into Honus’s bed. Once beneath the sheet, she turned her back to him.

Yaun ascended the tower alone, holding a lantern to light the winding stairs. He had spent a tedious afternoon and evening with Gorm learning the extent of Lord Bahl’s “requirements.” They were likely to impoverish him or—more accurately—his subjects. Yaun pushed all that from his mind, replacing it with exquisite anticipation. He had even drunk less than usual so as not to dull his pleasure. His hand trembled with excitement, and he had difficulty inserting the key into the lock. When he finally succeeded, Yaun kicked open the door. “If you please me,” he said, “I might let you live.”

There was no reply.

Yaun swung the lantern around, expecting to find Becca cowering in a corner. The bare stone room had no place to hide, but there was no sign of Becca. Yaun immediately suspected treachery, though he had the only key. He was pondering the mystery of Becca’s disappearance when his eyes fell upon the room’s single window. It lacked glass or bars, but it was so tiny that Yaun couldn’t imagine anyone squeezing through it. He inspected the window with his lantern and found blood on its rough stone edges.

Peering beyond the opening, Yaun spied the pale form of Becca’s body sprawled on the ground below. He cursed. She had spurned him yet again to join her husband on the Dark Path.

Yaun descended the tower in a foul mood. Going for some wine, he encountered Gorm. “Done with your sport already?” asked the priest. “I thought such things were best drawn out.”

“She was already dead,” replied Yaun crossly. “She jumped out the window.”

Gorm shrugged. “Put bars on it. You’re a count now. There’ll be others.”

TWENTY-NINE

W
ITH FIRST
light, there was a knocking on the door. “Honus, are you awake?”

Honus remained in bed, reluctant to leave it. “I am now, Cara.”

“Brother said you’re leaving today, and we never had a chance to talk. I mean, we talked, but na
really
. If I’d known you came here just to rush away again…well…Are you going to open the door?”

“Let me dress,” replied Honus, rising and pulling on his pants. Yim merely pulled the sheets over her head. Honus opened the door and said, “Couldn’t this have waited?”

Cara peered around Honus’s shoulder and smiled when she saw Yim’s form under his sheets. “Nay. I know all about good-byes, for Brother has left often enough. If you wait to the last moment, you never say what needs to be said and you end up babbling some pointless thing like ‘until next greeting’ or something like it when the
real
truth is you do na know if you’ll ever see that person again or…or…” Cara lost her composure and appeared to be on the verge of crying.

“Come in, Cara,” said Honus in a gentle voice. “There’s still time to say good-bye properly.”

Yim emerged from under the sheets and shook her head violently at Cara’s quizzical look. Honus caught Cara’s end of the unspoken communication. “To whom,” he asked, “have you come to bid farewell?”

“Why, to you and Yim both. You’re like a second brother, Honus, one that’s never cross with me. And Yim…well, she’s special. I hope you know that, Honus. I’ll be disappointed if you do na. She’s na a slave, you know. Na really, she’s…”

“Cara!” exclaimed Yim in an anxious tone.

“She’s stolen goods,” continued Cara, disregarding Yim’s outburst. “She’s been stolen from herself and paying ten coppers to the thieves who did it does na mean you own her. I would hope you’d know that; you’re na as silly as most men.”

Honus smiled. “And when did you acquire such an understanding of men? Isn’t Cronin strict with you?”

“I’ve been living in
Bremven,
for Karm’s sake! While you’ve been wandering all over who-knows-where, I’ve learned a thing or two. And do na think I’ve been leading a wild life. If we’d had a proper talk you’d know I was really quite respectable, which does na mean I walked around with my eyes shut. After all, one does na have to roll in mud to understand pigs. Na that you’re a pig, Honus. Far from it. You’re so…so
special
. I hope that Yim…” Cara cut herself short and embraced Honus tightly. “I wish you were na leaving. Everything is…is so…” She started mingling sobs with her words. “…so…Oh, I can na bear to talk about it! Later this morning, I’ll be the general’s brave sister. I will na cry then. Take care of Yim.” She released Honus to embrace Yim. “Take care of Honus,” she whispered, then kissed Yim’s cheek. Cara was still crying as she ran from the room.

“I’ve never seen her like that,” said Honus.

“She believes she’s going to her doom,” said Yim, “and she suspects we are likewise.”

Honus sighed by way of response. “As long as we’re up,” he said, “we should prepare for our departure.”

True to her word, Cara was clear-eyed and outwardly cheerful as Honus and Yim left the Bridge Inn. She waved and called out “Until next greeting!” as Yim and Honus headed down the road. Cronin waved also. “If you journey to Averen, Honus,” he called, “you know where to find me.” Yim turned to wave as the pack, made heavier by provisions and her extra clothing, settled on her shoulders. Her heart was heavy, and she didn’t speak.

When the inn was out of sight, Honus broke the silence. “Cara is overly fond of the sound of her voice, but she’s wise beyond her years. She’s also clever and more than a little mischievous. You
do
realize what she’s done?”

Yim pretended she did not. “No.”

“She has sent us on our journey having dressed you as my Bearer.”

“Your Bearer?”

“Yes,” replied Honus, “and our journey will go easier if you behave like one.”

“And how can I do that? I’ve never even met a Bearer.”

“Would you rather be seen as a slave?”

“No,” replied Yim, “I would not. What must I do, Master?”

“First, your must never use that word for me. You will address me as Honus. When you speak of me to others, you should call me your Sarf.”

Yim smiled slightly. “
My
Sarf. I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t be overbearing about it. Remember, a Bearer is always a humble master.”

“Yes, Honus,” said Yim, clearly pleased to answer him by name.

Though he tried to hide it, a faint smile came to Honus’s lips. “You will be the one,” he continued, “who will ask for food and shelter in Karm’s name. When people say ‘Karmamatus,’ it’s you—not me—they’re addressing, and you must be the one who answers.”

“What should I say?” asked Yim.

“Theodus used to say, ‘If you want to sound profound, say little.’ Let that be your guide. When you must speak, be calm and gracious. That’s all that’s necessary.”

Yim looked at Honus dubiously. “You make it sound simple.”

“Most people will care little what you say. A Bearer’s concerns are not those of ordinary people. Usually, if you nod and make the Sign of the Balance, that will be sufficient.”

“Is there anything else I must do?”

“You must still carry my pack and cook when cooking needs to be done.”

“That’s easy enough,” said Yim. “May I also study your runes?”

“No,” said Honus quickly. “The runes are not for your eyes. You’re only pretending to be my Bearer.”

“I understand, Honus.” Yim smiled again.

“You must learn to call me that with a solemn face.”

“Then I’ll need practice, Honus.”

As Yim walked down the road, she silently thanked Cara again and again. Cara had obviously understood Honus better than she did. It had never occurred to Yim that Honus would actually treat her as a Bearer. She was still amazed that he did.
How can he treat me like his beloved Theodus?
Yim couldn’t understand it, and Honus’s explanation was unconvincing.
He’s never cared before whether our journey was easy or not. He could have made me wear my slave’s tunic. Why didn’t he?
Yim pondered that question.
Did he take Cara’s assertion that I’m “stolen goods” to heart? Or was Cara right in saying that he cares for me? Is this the proof?
Yim hoped it wasn’t, but she couldn’t see Honus’s expression to make a guess. He solemnly preceded her, assuming the traditional position for a Sarf walking with his Bearer.

The road they traveled followed the river awhile, then turned south into a countryside of gently rolling hills. There were no weeds on the highway, for its paving stones were kept clear by traffic. Soon the surrounding woods gave way to orderly fields, vineyards, and orchards. Vinden was an ancient land, but unlike Luvein, history had been kind to it. The pleasant countryside reflected the caring husbandry of generations.

Yim had never seen anywhere like it. Her mountain homeland was harsh and flinty. Only the lowest hollows supported crops, and even there, cold alpine winds made farming a chancy business. In contrast, the earth of Vinden was rich. Although the cottages she saw were not large, they seemed homey and comfortable. In the yards of many, spring flowers blossomed. The folk she saw appeared well fed and content. A few nodded toward her and made the Sign of the Balance. Yim inclined her head and returned the sign.

“How could you ever bear to leave here, Honus?”

“Whether I wished to leave or not was of no consequence,” he replied. “Karm directed my Bearer elsewhere, and I followed him. Yet I’ll admit I’m glad to see these hills again.”

“It looks so peaceful,” said Yim. “I find it hard to believe Cara’s tales. She claims many here now follow the Devourer.”

“That’s also what Cronin said.”

“I can understand why someone like Gan might turn to the Devourer. He had nothing, and craved vengeance when none could be had. But why would folk in this fair place take up such worship?”

“That question puzzled Theodus also,” said Honus. “If the answer eluded him, what hope have I of learning it?”

Yim had no reply. Instead, she turned her attention to the sights around her. The sunny landscape, awash in the colors and scents of spring, soon banished her dark musings. The manner of the people they passed on the road matched the warmth of the day. Most were friendly, and everyone was courteous. All salutations were directed to her, not Honus. After some initial surprise, Yim grew accustomed to others’ deference. For the first time since her capture, she had regained her dignity. It made her optimistic about the future. Soon she would be living in Karm’s temple.
What could be a better home for the Chosen?
she thought.
Perhaps I need only to bear a child who will undo evil. My fate could be a peaceful one.
Yim fancied that her trial was over, and hope invigorated her steps.

Yim and Honus walked until noon, then stopped on a stretch of the road that was lined by trees. Beneath the shade of a huge sycamore, they ate a lunch of fresh bread, well-aged cheese, and spicy sausage. Yim dined with relish. Afterward, she lazed upon the soft grass. Honus was less lighthearted. He watched Yim wistfully before lying back to gaze skyward.

Yim turned on her side and studied his pensive features. “Honus, did it hurt when they tattooed your face?”

“Yes.”

“Why did they do it?”

“To mark my mastery of the martial arts.”

“But why do it at all? They don’t tattoo Bearers.”

“A face such as mine is useful in combat. It’s hard to see at night. During the day, it’s fearsome and difficult to read. However, the Seer who made these marks gave me another reason.”

“What?”

“He said my face reflects Karm’s wrath.”

“Her wrath? Do you think Karm’s wrathful?”

“That’s a question you should ask at the temple. I’m only a Sarf.”

“
Only
a Sarf! How can you say ‘only’? You do Karm’s work.”

“I’m her tool. Does a hammer understand the carpenter?”

“Don’t be silly. Why call yourself a hammer?”

“You’re right,” said Honus. “As you once said, I’m a sword. I build nothing.”

Honus’s answer surprised Yim, and she didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m fit only for killing,” said Honus. “Karm must be wrathful indeed to have need for one such as I. No wonder you shrink from me.”

Honus’s despondency tugged at Yim’s compassion. Almost without thinking, she gently stroked his blue-lined cheek. “No,” she said. “The Seer was wrong. Yours is not the face of wrath.”

Honus froze at Yim’s touch. She withdrew her hand and realized her fingertips were wet. Gazing into Honus’s eyes, she saw they glistened within their pools of permanent shadow. Yim was reminded of when she contacted Honus’s spirit in the dark man’s castle. This time she needed no special powers to see his torment. She had caught hints of it before, but had never felt its full force.
He’s consumed by self-doubt
. Yim looked away, rubbing her moistened fingers.
These tears are his confession.

Yim felt that she had mistaken Honus’s intentions on the previous night.
He wasn’t spurred by lust, but by loneliness.
A loneliness that seemed like hers. Then Yim wished that she hadn’t judged his need for closeness so harshly and could unsay the words she spoke that night. An urge to comfort Honus seized her. Yet, even as she thought to fling her arms around him, she remembered Karm. Yim saw her impulse as yet another test, perhaps the most severe of all. She recalled Cara’s words—“
You need only climb into Honus’s bed to thwart Karm. Honus will do the rest.
” Yim stifled her feelings.

Only when Yim regained her composure did she look at Honus. By then he had wiped his eyes and formed his expression into one of calmness. Yim studied his tattoos. The angry visage they created was hard and implacable.
Such a face must be difficult to bear.
The marks seemed callous treatment for a lifetime of devotion. In that way, it reminded Yim of her own fate.
Perhaps the Seer understood Karm after all.

Honus remained silent, and so did Yim, for she was unsure what to say. She felt awkward, and she imagined Honus felt the same. It was a relief when he asked her if she was ready to resume their journey. Yim replied that she was and put on the pack. They headed out with Honus in front, his face hidden from Yim.