FIVE

‘Don’t touch that.’

Goat slowly drew his hand back from the whip in its socket. ‘All you do is boss me around,’ he complained.

‘Right.’

It’s like being shut in a box, thought Ki, while someone keeps hammering on the top. Goat’s nagging and Vandien’s sotto voice replies counterpointed the annoying chirring of the night insects. She moved closer to Vandien, and despite the muggy evening, took comfort in his warmth. He should have stopped for the night hours ago. Perhaps Vandien was trying to make up for the time lost this morning. Perhaps he dreaded the necessary conversation and expected squabbles. Soon they would have to; the big horses needed their rest. Sigurd tossed his head in annoyance, feeling for more slack in the reins.

‘You don’t have to keep the reins so firm; they know what they’re doing,’ she chided Vandien.

He roused at the first words she had spoken in hours. ‘Feeling better?’ he asked.

‘No. Just more numb. I hate what happened, but there’s no way to undo it.’

‘Vandien?’ Goat started in again.

‘No,’ Vandien replied pleasantly.

The boy turned his face from them, tightness in every muscle of his back. Something in the way he bowed his head touched Ki. She took pity on him. ‘What is it, Goat?’

He cleared his throat but his voice still choked. ‘So what should I have done? I thought they would kill us all.’

Vandien answered, his deep voice soft. ‘Kept silent. Waited. I know it would have been hard. But it’s better to hold back your top stakes until you know what your enemy is betting against it.’

‘If they had been going to kill us … if you had known they were … would you have told them about the Tamshin?’

‘I don’t know.’ Raw honesty from Vandien. ‘It’s hard to say what I’d do if faced with death, especially painful death. Even harder to say what I’d do if I knew I could keep my friends from death by betraying strangers. I’d like to say I’d go down fighting and take a few with me. But from what I know of Brurjans, I wouldn’t have much of a chance.’ He glanced past Ki to the boy, trying to see if his words were making any impact. ‘It’s sort of like trying to say what you wouldn’t eat if you were starving. If you’re hungry enough, rotten cabbage and dead rat aren’t that bad.’

Ki didn’t ask how he knew.

‘But they were going to kill us,’ Goat insisted.

Vandien sighed. ‘Let it go, Goat. It’s done. But if there’s a next time, keep silent and still. Look to Ki or me to see what you should do. No matter what you think. Or know.’ The last words he added grudgingly. But they eased the tension, and a sort of peace settled over the gently rocking wagon. The cuddy door behind the seat slid open.

‘Aren’t we ever going to stop?’ Willow asked plaintively.

Vandien didn’t answer, but pulled the team off the road. There was nothing to recommend the spot, but there was nothing better in sight either. The grass desert stretched in all directions, gently swelling and ebbing, but never sharply enough to be a valley or a hill. The grazing lands of yesterday and the abandoned farms of this morning had given way to brushy patches of coarse grasses interspersed with sandy stretches. The horses would get sparse grazing tonight. They’d need more grain.

The team halted and Goat leaped off, nimble as his namesake. Ki followed him, and then glanced back up at Vandien. He was moving as slowly as an arthritic old dog. A pang of guilt singed Ki. How could she have forgotten about his ribs?

‘Take it slow,’ she cautioned him. ‘I’ll do the unharnessing and get camp set up. Then I want to take a look at your ribs.’

‘Any excuse to get my clothes off,’ he muttered, but could not quite bring up a grin. Ki shook her head.

The horses were glad to be rid of their harnesses, but not enthused with the scruffy grey-green grass she led them to. Both greedily sucked up the measure of water she poured into their drinking tub. After they had drunk she grained them and rubbed the sweat from the rough grey coats. There was a festering sore on Sigurd’s neck. She got salve to treat it, noticing that Vandien was directing Goat and Willow in setting up a camp. He sent her a quick smile from where he leaned against a quilt folded over a wagon wheel. Goat knelt beside a smouldering fire while Willow poured water from the cask into the kettle.

The sore on Sigurd’s neck was a nasty thing that finally expelled the squirming grub of some parasitic fly. Ki washed it and then smeared salve over it. Sigurd, whiffling after the last of the spilled grain, paid no attention to her. Ki sighed and wiped her sticky hands down her tunic. Maybe tomorrow night they’d find a river where she could do a wash. Vandien would love that; he could use his bruised ribs as an excuse for her to pound out his laundry as well as her own.

The little fire seemed very bright after working in the semi-darkness. She stood a moment, letting her eyes adjust. And then a moment longer, to adjust to something else.

Willow knelt beside Vandien, dragging his shirt gently off over his head. She dropped it to the ground, said something softly. As Vandien held his arms up slightly, Willow moistened a rag in water and held it against his side. The bruise was purple where the horse had scored, fading to pinks and greens at the edges. Willow was smiling as she sponged his skin. Goat’s words, which she had earlier dismissed as juvenile vindictiveness, came suddenly to her mind.

She strode into camp. The kettle was already on, the stew starting to bubble. All done neatly and well. Nothing to complain about, nothing to question. They had it all under control. She crouched by the water cask at the tail of the wagon, to run water into the basin to wash her face and hands. Goat came out of the wagon with a platter of travelling bread and cheese. Ki still hadn’t thought of anything to say.

Goat looked from her to Vandien and Willow. ‘Food’s ready,’ he said loudly. ‘We can eat as soon as you can get your hands off him, Willow.’

Willow laughed. ‘Don’t you wish it were you, Goat?’ she asked snidely, but as she looked past him she saw Ki. Their eyes met, and for a moment Willow looked scared. But Ki said nothing, and after that instant, Willow’s face changed. She smiled, a little cat smile. ‘Vandien will tell me when he’s had enough,’ she said. Ki wondered if she were speaking to Goat at all.

‘Enough,’ said Vandien. ‘It’s not helping. I wish I could take just one deep breath.’ He lifted his eyes to Ki, and there was nothing in them but weariness.

‘Did you use warm water or cool?’ she asked him.

‘Cool,’ he said briefly.

Ki nodded to herself. ‘After we eat, let’s try warm, with some Cara buds crumbled into it.’

Willow bristled. ‘My mother always used cool water on things like that. To keep the swelling down.’

‘That makes sense,’ Ki agreed smoothly. ‘But sometimes warm will loosen a pain.’ She met Willow’s eyes, sensed a challenge in them. Ki didn’t want to play. She turned away from the look, to take dishes from the chest and shake loose tea from them. Enough tea had lodged in a cup to brew tonight’s pot; she’d have to buy more in Algona.

‘Vandien?’ she asked over her shoulder. ‘How far to Algona now, do you guess?’

‘Two days?’ he hazarded.

‘More like three,’ Willow corrected him. ‘We haven’t made very good time.’

Ki said nothing, but dished the food and poured the tea. When she finally filled her own plate and turned around, Willow was ensconced beside Vandien. I would never sit that close to a man not mine, Ki thought. She watched the way Willow spoke to him over the food, tilting her head and smiling at his brief answers, speaking softly as if someone might overhear. She felt stubbornness rise in her. If Vandien did not object to it, she wouldn’t. A small cold voice in her asked her if she were trusting Vandien’s judgement or testing him. She didn’t answer it, but took her plate and sat down by the fire. Goat gazed at her across the flames. There was a dab of soup on his chin.

‘How long have you been together?’ he asked her suddenly.

‘What?’ Ki glanced up from her bowl.

‘You and Vandien. How long have you been together?’

Ki reckoned back with difficulty. Some years were much like the others, and others had been so eventful that they seemed to be more than one year. ‘Maybe five or six years. Or closer to seven, I guess. It’s hard to say, Goat. We are not always together, like this. Sometimes he rides his own paths and I take mine, knowing we will meet somewhere down the road. Sometimes he goes back to visit the place of his childhood, to see those of his family who remember him. Sometimes, when the haul is simple and dreary, he rides ahead and rejoins me when I arrive.’

‘Doesn’t sound very loyal,’ the boy observed.

Ki snorted lightly. ‘To speak of it coldly, perhaps not. But in the ways that are important, we are loyal.’

‘And other women? Does he have other women, while you are separated, and you have other men?’

Ki stared at him across the fire. ‘That is scarcely a polite question.’

He met her gaze coolly. ‘I knew you wouldn’t answer. Because you don’t know.’

She glared at him, thinking she should let this conversation die but instead said, ‘If you mean, do I ask him to account for every moment he is away from me, I do not. Nor does he ask me.’

‘I see,’ Goat sniggered. ‘Like they say. “Two can’t get on, and one can’t hurt it.”’ He sniggered again, a nasty child’s laugh.

Ki’s voice was flat. ‘Goat. Why do you behave this way? You have manners when you want them. Why must you be so rude, when you can be pleasant?’

‘That’s the answer, then, that I don’t want to be nice, right? And why should I be polite to people who either scold me or ignore me?’

‘Goat,’ Ki began, feeling horribly weary. But Willow was suddenly at her shoulder.

‘Vandien wants tea. And I’ll heat water for his ribs.’

There was a smug assumption in her voice that Ki wouldn’t let herself react to. ‘The Cara buds are in a clay pot with a cork stopper, on the shelf over the window,’ she told the girl. ‘Don’t put them in until after the water is steaming.’

Her instructions took Willow by surprise. She bobbed a quick nod of assent and withdrew. Ki turned to Goat. ‘Help me gather up the supper things and put them away.’

‘But …’

‘Now, Goat.’

He obeyed her, copying the way she gathered the cups and bowls and scrubbed them out with sand and rinsed them sparingly with water. There were a few brief words as Willow refused to let Goat touch either her bowl or cup. Ki didn’t intervene. Let them settle their own squabbles; she was sick of them. And tired. By the Moon, she had never known she could be this tired and still stand. And Vandien looked no better than she felt. His head was tipped forward on his chest, the steaming cup of tea at his side nearly upset. She crouched beside him to right it, touched his wrist in passing. No fever, only weariness. He didn’t stir as she rose and went to check the horses.

When she came back into the circle of firelight, Vandien was stretched out on his back while Willow carefully arranged a steaming cloth on his ribs. The aromatic Cara flavored the air of the camp. Goat crouched by the fire still, watching them like a hungry dog. Ki ignored him and walked directly to Vandien. His dark eyes turned to her as she crouched down beside him.

‘Any better?’ she asked him.

‘Some. Not a lot.’

‘Um.’ Ignoring Willow, she lifted the cloth, ran her fingers lightly over his flesh. She heard him catch his breath as she touched the imprint of the hoof. ‘You’d better sleep inside the caravan tonight. Hard earth and a chilly night is the last thing you need.’

‘And I don’t mind at all,’ Willow put in prettily.

‘It wouldn’t matter if you did,’ Ki observed. She put the cloth back in place. Something gripped her ankle lightly for a second. She glanced down and Vandien looked up at her gravely. Then his face lit up with the wickedest grin she had ever seen him wear. ‘I should stave in the rest of your ribs,’ she told him quietly, but could not down an answering grin. Damn the man. Someday she’d figure out a way to stay angry at him.

She clambered into the caravan and straightened the rumpled bedding on the sleeping platform. With iron control, she made up a bed for Willow on the floor beside it. She knew better than to ask the girl to sleep under the wagon. She gathered up other bedding for Goat. ‘Only twelve more days,’ she muttered, consoling herself.

She paused on the steps.

‘And then what happened?’ Willow was asking Vandien.

‘And so we met again in Firbanks.’ His words were edged with pain. ‘We found we did better together than we did apart. Ki had a new wagon built, and when she moved on, so did I.’

‘Enough stories,’ Ki interrupted, her voice sharper than she had intended it to be. Who was this girl, to be asking how they had met and come together? She let Goat’s bedding thump to the ground beside the fire, and turned back to Vandien. ‘You need rest. Let’s get you to bed.’

‘I won’t argue,’ Vandien promised, reaching up a hand to her. She stooped so he could get a grip on her shoulder and eased him to his feet. He leaned on her, yawning cautiously.

Goat stood looking at the bedding. ‘There’s only one cushion here, and if Willow’s going to sleep out here we’ll need two.’

‘Willow can sleep inside on the floor. That’s all for you, Goat.’

‘But I can’t sleep out here all by myself! What if the Brurjans come back?’

‘They won’t. You’ll be fine.’

‘But, Ki! You don’t know that for sure. It’s too scary. Why can’t I sleep inside with the rest of you?’

‘He’s not sleeping anywhere near me!’ Willow objected loudly.

Ki sighed. Vandien said, ‘It wouldn’t kill me to sleep outside,’ but she shook her head vigorously. Her voice was as sharp as a knife. ‘This is ridiculous. All these quarrels are ridiculous. You are going to sleep inside where you can get some decent rest. Willow, you can sleep inside just so I don’t have to listen to you two quarrel. Goat, I will sleep outside so you don’t have to be afraid. Is everyone satisfied?’

A silence followed her words. The two younsters were merely quelled, but Vandien looked shocked. Ki felt embarrassed. Willow stepped out of her way as she helped Vandien up the high step into the caravan. He sat down heavily on the bed and looked up at her. ‘Ki? Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ she snapped, then sighed. ‘I’m just tired, and … I don’t have a word for it. What I saw today, and knowing I am partially responsible … I don’t know. And all the squabbling. And now Goat has me wondering if they won’t come back, looking for easy prey.’

‘Try not to be so tense,’ he advised her.

‘How should I be?’ she demanded.

He shrugged, then winced. ‘I’ll be better tomorrow. I can take more of it off you.’

She tried to soften toward him. ‘I’ll be better, too,’ she offered awkwardly.

He caught at her hand, but Ki was too aware of Willow standing in the door, watching them. She squeezed his hand, then pulled free. She gathered a few odd pieces of bedding, leaving him the lion’s share. She didn’t think she’d be sleeping tonight anyway. Willow took a very long time to move out of her way, but Ki stifled an urge to push past the girl.

Outside there was no easing of tension. Goat was waiting for her. ‘Are we going to sleep by the fire?’ he demanded instantly. ‘Or shall we sleep under the wagon?’

‘You can sleep anywhere you wish. I’m sitting up and keeping watch for awhile.’

‘Shall I keep you company?’ he offered hopefully.

She heard the caravan door shut and Willow scrabbling at what was left of the latch. That’s another thing I’ll have to fix, Ki thought, but not for a while. The thought gave her a small satisfaction. Goat was still watching her. The light was behind him. He stood with his shoulders bowed in toward his chest, and the details of his face were shadowed. He clutched his trailing bedding, like a child frightened from sleep by the bogies. Being angry suddenly took too much effort.

‘If you want,’ she conceded. ‘Or you can sleep. Just don’t expect me to be good company. I’m too tired, and there’s too much on my mind.’

‘If you want –’ Goat swallowed audibly, and his voice was very soft. ‘I could rub your head. It would make your headache go away, and you could rest.’

Ki became suddenly aware of how her temples were throbbing. Before, the pain had seemed a part of her anger. She could imagine, with sudden lethargy, how good it would feel to have someone massage that tension away.

‘It’s a thing my mother taught me, when I was very little,’ Goat added shyly. ‘Something she said every healer should be able to do. It feels nice.’

‘I – thank you, Goat, but no,’ she replied wearily. ‘No, I think I shall just sit quietly and look at the night and keep watch. But that was a kind offer.’

‘You don’t want me to touch you.’ His voice was petulant.

She was too tired for this. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘That’s true. I wouldn’t be comfortable.’

‘Why?’

Ki was arranging her bedding. She leaned a cushion against one of the tall wheels of the caravan, and then sat down against it, dragging a quilt over her lap. She looked at Goat.

‘Why?’ he repeated.

‘Why don’t you go to bed?’ she responded.

‘I’m not sleepy yet. Why wouldn’t you be comfortable with me touching you?’

Ki sighed. The strength of her anger had forsaken her. ‘Because you’re still a stranger, and I’m not comfortable being touched by strangers.’

‘How long would it take before I wasn’t a stranger?’

The note was in his voice again, suave lechery with a runny nose. She wondered where he had picked up the lines and the inflections. It sounded like something a tinker might say to a tavern whore. She shut her eyes.

‘How long did it take before Vandien wasn’t a stranger?’

Ki didn’t open her eyes. ‘Why don’t you ask him?’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ Earthy, suggestive tone.

‘Goat.’ Ki shifted slightly. ‘Why are you being an ass?’

‘Why are you?’ His voice was full of sudden hurt. ‘How can you let them sleep together while you sleep out here?’

She opened her eyes, recognized his jealousy and understood his adolescent reasoning. If Vandien was sleeping with a girl Goat wanted, Goat would retaliate by seducing Vandien’s woman. It was too silly for comment. Yet he needed an answer. She tried to think of one that wouldn’t prompt any more questions. ‘Goat, don’t worry about it. Vandien is probably sound asleep by now. And even if he weren’t, and even if he were inclined toward Willow and she were receptive, his ribs would keep him from acting on the impulse. So no one has anything to worry about. Now, please, go to sleep?’

‘You don’t know Willow,’ he replied sulkily. He tossed his bedding to the ground and dropped onto it, curling up like a dog.

And he does know Willow, Ki thought to herself. How? It isn’t likely that girl would take up with an odd boy like Goat. Yet there’s been something between them, to account for all the hostility and jealousy. Let it go, it’s late and I’m tired.

For a time she sat listening to the night. The insects chirred incessantly, and there was the comfortable sound of Sigurd’s and Sigmund’s great hooves shifting as they dozed. A soft whicker of owl’s wings as the predator passed overhead. No hoofbeats. Nothing to fear. She drew up her knees, set her forehead against them and let herself doze.

‘Vandien?’ Willow whispered.

‘What?’ he asked grudgingly.

‘I’m scared. Can I come up there beside you?’

He sighed silently. Earlier, Willow’s machinations to make Ki jealous had seemed mildly humorous. But this … ‘How would you be any safer up here?’ he asked wearily.

A brief silence. He sensed her sudden uncertainty when he didn’t respond as she expected. ‘Because … I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep, I’m so tired. So I thought I could come up there and talk to you and stay awake. So Goat can’t bother me.’ She was sitting up, leaning her elbows on the edge of the bed. He turned his head to look at her.

‘Willow, I’m really tired, and my ribs hurt. I don’t want to stay awake and talk. Now be a good girl and let me go to sleep.’ His avuncular tone was deliberate.

‘But …’ She was flustered. Evidently, this wasn’t going as intended. What had she intended, he suddenly wondered. He heard the rustle of the straw mattress, opened his eyes again. She had edged farther onto the bed. ‘You don’t understand about Goat. At all. Or you wouldn’t be going to sleep, either.’

‘Oh? Well, why don’t you sit on the floor, then, and keep yourself awake by telling me about him?’

‘All right,’ she agreed quickly, and clambered up to sit on the bed beside him. He opened his eyes again. In the dimness of the cuddy, she looked very young. Very, very young. ‘Goat has Jore blood,’ she began. ‘Do you know what that means?’

‘I suppose it means one of his ancestors wasn’t Human. His father mentioned it to us; I didn’t think it was especially important.’

‘It isn’t … usually. There’s a lot of mixed blood in this part of Loveran. You see a lot of half-Brurjan, especially in their garrison towns. And … other crosses. But not many Jore crosses, and hardly ever one with Human body and Jore eyes.’

‘So?’

She edged closer to him. ‘So, it means he can see … everything.’ She lifted her hand in an encompassing gesture, let it fall so it brushed his thigh. ‘Everything anyone dreams, he can spy on.’

Vandien shifted in the darkness, hitching himself away from her accidental touch. By the Moon, his ribs ached. But he was intrigued now, whether he wanted to admit it or not. ‘So Goat can tell what you dream. Why should that worry you?’

He could feel her eyes on him in the darkness. ‘Because he uses what he learns from dreams to hurt people. To make fun of their secret longings, or expose their mistakes, and take advantage of their fears. Once he’s been inside your dreams, he can change how you feel about them.’ Overcome by the enormity of the thought, Willow melted beside him. She lay on her side, facing him, her jaw propped on her hand.

‘He can change how you feel about your dreams.’

‘Yes.’

‘And why is that so important?’

‘Don’t you see? He can take your secrets and use them against you. He can make your dreams go where he will. Nothing you have ever thought is safe from his spying. And everything he learns spills out of his mouth. He has no honor.’ She spoke bitterly, as one betrayed. Vandien sensed himself very close to the heart of the puzzle, and held his tongue.

The silence lengthened. Willow wiggled closer to him. She wore a scent, like ginger and oranges. He could hear her breathing, but he waited her out.

‘Once,’ she breathed, ‘I trusted him.’

He didn’t let himself smile. ‘Oh?’

‘And he betrayed not only me, but my friends.’

‘By telling what he knew you had dreamed?’

Willow shook her head impatiently, and he felt the brush of her hair. ‘I asked him to … find out a thing for me. A thing that would be useful for me to know. And he did. But instead of telling only me, he told it all about, bragging of what he knew. So it wasn’t any use at all to me and my friends.’

The rebels. Ah. ‘I imagine you were very angry with him.’ Vandien wondered if she were so naive she thought she was being clever, or if her childish intrigue was a mask. He could feel the warmth of her young body crossing the distance between them. But he could also sense the calculation as she contrived to let her leg brush his. The uneasiness that stirred in him now was not what she was seeking to arouse.

‘Of course I was angry! We were all angry, he put us all in danger. And Kellich had to …’

‘Leave,’ Vandien filled in for her.

‘Yes.’ Her voice was very low. ‘It was all Goat’s fault, because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. Kellich says there is no strength in a man who cannot keep a secret, nor honor in one who breaks faith with others for personal gain or glory.’

‘Mmm.’ He had dozens of questions, but he knew that not talking much was the best way to encourage confidences. When she leaned over and put her hand lightly on his upper arm, he didn’t move away from it. Her fingers moved, probing the muscles there.

‘You’re strong,’ she whispered. ‘Stronger than you look. And brave. What you did today, to buy Ki time – that took courage. And quick wit to think of it.’ She shifted her body closer on the bed. ‘Strong men, with the courage and the wits to put their strength to use, are rare. And we need them so desperately.’

Her breath was against his cheek. ‘Did you make the same speech to Goat when you asked a favor of him?’ Vandien asked innocently.

She jerked back as if he had slapped her. ‘And does Kellich know how you recruit for your cause?’ he continued. ‘Or did he teach you, perhaps, how to win a man to do your work for you?’ Her silence was an audible tension. ‘And what would you have done if I had tried to accept the bribe first, and then do whatever it is that you’ve been building up to ask for?’

‘I’d have put a knee in your sore ribs, you …’ she sputtered, at a loss for a name bad enough to call him. She moved then, suddenly, and he blocked it, covering his injured ribs, but it was not an attack. She sat up suddenly, her face in her hands. He heard her draw in a shuddering breath, but he cooled his quick sympathy. Tears might simply be the ploy one used when seduction failed.

‘You don’t know what it’s like,’ she said thickly.

‘I might, if someone explained it instead of …’

‘It’s horrible!’ she burst out. ‘This Duke and his Brurjan guards and his travel passes and his endless quarrels with everyone. Loveran has not a single border-neighbor that trusts us. He has cheated the Windsingers until they no longer hear the pleas of the farmers. Look around you as we travel – do you think it was always grass desert here? When the Duchess was in power, these were the grain fields of Loveran, the pastures thick with fat cattle and white sheep. Now our whole land is dying. Dying! And Kellich says unless we bring back …’

‘The Duchess. And throw down the Duke. I heard the talk in Keddi. I can sympathize, if what you say is true. But to send you out to bring back men for his cause …’

‘Kellich hates it as much as I do. But he says it’s like a test. You were staying loyal to Ki – I could feel it. And that’s a thing to watch for, for Kellich says that a man true to his own cause can be true to a greater cause. And he says that if I pick the men carefully that I approach, that the … offer will never have to be paid. For once they’ve been with us, they see the right of it, and don’t ask for anything more than to do what is right …’

‘Oh, shit,’ Vandien breathed softly, but she heard him.

‘It’s not how you think it is at all!’ she said angrily. ‘No man but Kellich has ever touched me. Nor ever will. It is only a thing one does because one has to … like the smuggling. Because one has to do it to keep the cause alive, to survive.’

‘Sort of like sacrificing those Tamshin today?’

Willow swallowed. ‘Goat did that, not I,’ she muttered after a moment. ‘But, yes, if it were for the cause. Even the Tamshin, such as they are, aid us. They’ve been willing to die for us. I’m not saying I like what Goat did. And don’t you think he did it to save me or anything foolish like that. He did it for the reason he does anything. To show off what he knows. But, yes, we expect that kind of sacrifice. That our friends will die for our cause.’

‘Yes, I’m sure that little boy had strong political convictions,’ Vandien said sourly. ‘Must have been really sustaining for him when the horses trampled him.’

‘We can’t think in terms of one person, even if the person is a child,’ Willow whispered fiercely. ‘Kellich says the cause must be our family, the child or mate or parent that we could die for. For the land is our begetter, and if we suffer the land to fail and die under the tyranny of the Duke, then we have betrayed ourselves and our children to the end of all generations.’

‘For the life that is the land,’ Vandien muttered to himself, recalling a boy, an oath, and a sacrifice made long ago. He was tired of hearing Willow repeat what ‘Kellich said,’ and he doubted she understood half of what she mouthed. But he did, much better than her youthfulness could encompass, and her words stirred a pain he thought had scarred over long ago.

Ki dreamed. The dreams engulfed her as water engulfs a diver; they pulled her down and under. She flickered through images bright with color and soft with shadows. Landscapes, horses, Romni wagons, laughing children. Ki stood back from her dreams in a dark place, regarding their passing with equanimity. There were folk she knew, Big Oscar and Rifa, not as they were now, but young as they had been when she was a child, and there was Aethan’s wagon, and the first team of horses she remembered, Boris and Nag. A glimpse of each and then on, shuffling memories that filled her eyes but didn’t touch her. Here was Aethan, older, starting to stoop, and there was Sven, her first glimpse of him, so boyish that she could scarcely reconcile the image with her memory of him as a man. The flicker of memories slowed suddenly, let her regard him as she once had, running her eyes over his blue eyes and fair skin, over his wide shoulders and silky blond hair that flowed down his back. The unbound hair of an unclaimed male of his people.

Ki felt something in her quicken at the thought, and the airs of her dream seemed suddenly charged. She sensed a passing of time that followed Sven through her memories. Here he was on a spring day when the caravan of Romni had passed through Harper’s Ford; there he was, his cheeks ruddy with the kiss of winter wind, when she and Aethan had returned that way later in the year. The dreams skipped forward frantically, searching, searching, pausing whenever Sven had come into her life, and then hastening on again. And here Sven was older, and his shirt hung open and his fair, wide chest was slick with sweat. And here – ah, yes. The dreams stopped. It had arrived.

The wooden planks of wagon floor were pale new wood, and sticky yet with sap. She lifted her eyes to where Sven stood before her, shirtless, his back to the new bed with the new blankets on it. Ki couldn’t breathe. She was shaking. Sven’s face was very solemn. He was waiting. Waiting for her. She took a step closer to him. She smelled the smell of his sweat, male and young, and the smell of her own nervousness. He put out a hand and his fingers brushed her jaw. She felt the tremble in them. He was no more experienced than she, and but a year or two older. And yet they had made their promises to one another, and now they were free, to touch and be together. If they could find their courage. She looked at his hair, bound back in a long tail now. A taken man, a man claimed by a woman. Claimed by Ki. His hand fell to her shoulder, and before he could draw her near, she stepped closer to him. The instant of hesitation melted, and her skin was suddenly alive, aware of every brush of skin or cloth against it, and the smell and taste of his skin filled her mouth and nose. He was so strong, so wise in his maleness, so sure.

Clothing fell, and the wooden edge of the bed bruised the back of her thighs as she tumbled across it. She pulled her eyes up and looked only at his face. His eyes closed to slits as he positioned himself. He was gentle, slow, careful, and yet his mere touch was a jolt against inexperienced flesh. Ki cried aloud. Sven’s mouth closed over hers, swallowing her cries, and his body descended upon hers …

Somewhere an older Ki watched their uncertain finish, witnessed the sudden awkwardness of their first parting, and then the confidence with which they came together a second time. She saw much she had not remembered until now; how he had bruised his head against the wall, the circle of red dents her teeth left in his shoulder, his hair unbound and lying across her eyes and mouth. Somewhere an older Ki smiled sadly in the darkness, shared the hunger of their young passion but not its fulfillment. She could only witness and remember. Remember so clearly that she almost felt Sven’s hands upon her …

Ki jerked her head up, found a tangling darkness like wet nets, floundered and struggled and suddenly opened her eyes. She was breathing as hard as if she had run a footrace; her tunic clung damply to her back. Slowly the darkness parted, shadows re-formed as recognizable shapes.

The fire was a shamble of coals with the ends of sticks littering its edges. The wagon wheel was solid behind her, digging into her back through the cushion. That huddle to the left of the fire was Goat, sleeping in a tangle of blankets. He lay very still, his face turned away from her. His shoulders looked tight and hunched, as if expecting a blow. He had taken his anger to bed with him, Ki decided. She drew a deeper breath and came to herself. A nightmare. Well, like a nightmare in its intensity. She plucked her clothing free of her sweaty skin.

Sven. The love of her childhood, her husband, the father of her children. Dead. She wished suddenly that Vandien were beside her, that she could turn and touch him and console herself with the goodness of her present life instead of regretting the sweetness she had lost. But he wasn’t, and it would be days and miles before she was alone with him again. Once more she let her head settle to her knees.

Why, after all these years, dream of Sven? And why of that particular time? Was she remembering when she was as young and callow as Willow? She shook her head against her knees. Young, callow, and ignorant, yes. But not as nasty, never as sly. At least she didn’t remember herself that way. She wondered how others had seen her.

Murmuring voices from the wagon behind her. Willow’s low voice, intense, unmistakable. A savage curiosity beset Ki, but she held herself still. What were they talking about, those two? And had she dreamed of the man she’d lost because she feared she’d lose this one, too? Foolish. She knew him too well. Whatever else he might be or might have been, he had honor. Polished, she thought, to a brighter sheen than her own. She need fear no betrayal from Vandien. ‘My love,’ she breathed softly, speaking the word he seldom heard from her. Then, ‘My friend,’ she added, taking strength from the thought. The voices went on a long time. But Ki slept long before they were silent.