an eye on the lands along both banks, possibly someone
afoot as well if the terrain calls for it. Last I heard, the middle reaches of
the river are not well patrolled, and there are villains of every kind who prey
on travelers. We won’t need all of the horses, however. Likely we’ll leave Zyb
here with most of them.”
“Sounds as if we won’t be coming back the same way we go,”
Khlened mumbled.
“No, remember what I told you in the barracks,” the warrior
said. “Maybe we’ll return as we went in—and in a hurry. If so, we’ll need the
boats and the horses. But if we must go on to another place, Mal and Nemis are
working on a way to let our outside party know to turn around and return here.”
“Since we don’t know what we’ll face or find,” Malowan added,
“we are trying to provide for several possibilities.”
“Mmmm.” The barbarian nodded and went to unload the packs
from his horse.
* * *
The sun was still well above the western hills when a
gray-bearded bear of a man with a captain’s patch on his hardened leather armor
strode up to the two boats with four men behind him.
“Vlandar, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’m Holken, and these are the
men I’m sending with you. They’re experienced in the—ah— trade along the
river between here and Istivin.” He grinned. “So’m I, but worse luck, I’m needed
here and up the Javan to the north.”
Vlandar met his hand halfway and led them onto the deck of
the first boat.
“Be that secret-like, or do we all listen in?” Agya asked.
Malowan shrugged. “We’ve still some loading and settling to
do. Vlandar will let us know what we need to know.”
“P’raps,” the girl replied. She gazed back the way they’d
come. “Wonder where that fool of a rich lad’s got ’isself to?”
“He’s waiting,” Khlened growled. “I can almost sense him
m’self, waiting for us to be on the move and out of this walled town so’s he can
follow once more.”
Malowan sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, Khlened, I
fear you are probably right.”
Just then, Vlandar reemerged and called the company together
while the local men were storing their own weapons and supplies. When everyone
had gathered, he explained, “These men patrol the river between here and
Istivin, and they know the dangers. For an old landsman like myself, they’ll
prove good instructors at poling a boat and reading the river. We’ve only a few
hours of daylight left, but the farther we get upriver tonight means one less
hour tomorrow and the day after.”
Malowan looked at each of them in turn then nodded. “It’s a
good plan. Let’s be off.”
* * *
Several hours later they stopped for the night against the
northern bank of the Davish River where it was undercut by high spring flow.
Here, they could not be seen from the south, were partly protected by rock face
to east and west, and reasonably comfortable on a pebble-strewn shoreline. Even
without a fire—the Flen guards had advised against one—they were fairly warm.
With a nearly full moon, they could see each other well even in the shadow of
the overhang.
Rowan and Maera spent an hour or so scouting the area. Upon
their return, Rowan announced that their tagalong was still tagging along.
“The lad’s impatient. He may yet give up,” was all Vlandar
would say.
“Well, better he’s out there than here,” Maera grumbled.
Lhors smiled but said nothing. Maera had already proven to be
much sharper tongued than her sister. Rowan actually smiled and spoke to him on
occasion.
Khlened mumbled something under his breath.
Rowan smiled at Lhors now, but her eyes were wicked. “Maera,
I don’t believe the barbarian likes us. I wonder why.”
“Yes,” Maera said flatly. “Which is it, barbarian, that we’re
rangers, female, or half-elf? Or is it just that we’re not Fist barbarian
women?”
A tense silence followed. Lhors saw Malowan stand to
arbitrate, but before
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