The Gathering Storm

Page 45

“I always wondered what Jinna women look like,” mused Lewenhardt. “Is it true they dance naked through fire to worship their god?”
“You might wish,” laughed Johannes, “until you had to do the same thing. And then the fire would burn off your—”
“Hush,” said Den. “Here comes the captain.”
“Brother Zacharias!” Captain Fulk nodded at his soldiers and they moved away. “The prince wishes a small party to investigate the market, to scout what’s available for provisions and guides for the journey east. You’ve lived in the grasslands, Brother. You’ll know what kinds of things we must look for.”
“Wagons.” He remembered wagons too well.
“You’ve said so before,” said Fulk with the skepticism any westerner might show who did not understand the grasslands. “We don’t know how long we’ll be delayed here. We’ll need supplies and plenty of ale or wine to drink, with this hot sun. Wolfhere will go with you, as will Lady Bertha’s healer, Robert, who can speak somewhat of the Arethousan language.”
Their departure was delayed at the gate when Blessing ran up. “Take me with you! I hate it here!”
“My lady!” Matto arrived, huffing from the exertion in the heat. “You must come back to the tent now. You know what your father the prince told you.”
“I don’t want to stay here! I want to go see the governor’s palace. I want to see people with big ears like tents. Maybe they have a phoenix in the market.” Matto started, looking guilty, as the girl crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. “I want to go with them.”
Wolfhere softened as that glare was directed at him. “What harm if she comes with us?”
“Has the sun cooked your head?” demanded Zacharias. “There’s a slave market in this port!”
“I want to see the slave market!”
Anger made him clench his jaw, but he struggled to remember that she was only a child. “It’s no merry thing to be sold in a slave market, my lady, as I should know. What’s to stop some Arethousan thief from seeing what a proud, fine noblewoman you are and stealing you away and selling you to the infidels?”
“I’d bite him!”
“He’d slap you so hard you’d lose your wits,” retorted Zacharias, earning himself a sharp glance from Fulk.
Blessing was hopping from one foot to the other; she hadn’t heard. “I’d bite him five times, until he let me go!”
“For God’s sake, Wolfhere, dissuade her from this foolish notion!”
“A day of freedom would not harm the child,” muttered Wolfhere irritably. “I don’t like the heat and the dust any better than she does. This is an unnatural place.”
“Unnatural, indeed! How can you think it safe for her to go wandering in the market when we don’t even know how we’ll be greeted by the townsfolk?”
Blessing screwed up that adorable face and put her fists on her hips; she was steering hard for a big storm.
“My lady.” Captain Fulk motioned for Matto to step back. “I will personally escort you into the market, but not today. Any disruption may harm your father’s negotiations with the governor. You would not want that.”
Captain Fulk was the only person besides her father she truly respected. Everyone else she either ignored or had wrapped up tight on a leash like an adoring dog. Her frown was so terrible that Zacharias was surprised that it didn’t draw in clouds to cover the heartless sun.
“I’ll go anyway,” she muttered.
“I must obey as your royal father commanded me, Your Highness, and keep you in this camp. If I do not, he will strip me of my rank and cast me out of his war band, and he would be right to do so.”
She could never bear the thought of any one of those she had a fondness for being torn from her. With a wounded sigh, she stalked away, Matto hastening after her while Fulk shook his head helplessly.
“Where is Anna?” the captain asked, but no one knew.
“Let’s get out of here,” Zacharias said to his companions, “while we still can.”
“A willful child,” observed Lady Bertha’s healer as they hurried toward the gate. Robert was bald, short, and fat, but he had neat hands, nimble fingers, and an easy smile—remarkable considering how much suffering he must have seen in the course of his work. “Yet it seems to me that her body grows faster than her mind does. When shall the one catch up to the other?”
“When, indeed?” murmured Wolfhere.