Barrenlands (The Changespell Saga) by Doranna Durgin Page B

with a little company right now. Laine had gone to the blacksmith's with Spike. That was always a big production, he'd told her, and one Shette preferred not to experience. She could hear Spike's protests from here. No, thank you.
    She pushed off the end of the wagon and made her way past the merchants' hall. Some of those merchants looked rough, and she didn't want to go inside without Laine. But she was tired of watching the sporadic travelers pass by.
    She wandered down the hard, spell-preserved road to the border station to watch the Border Guards inspect the travelers for contraband.
    The border station was a small white-washed building with a second building tacked onto the back for guard quarters. She'd met both the guards— one of them was hardly any older than she was, and the other was a grizzled veteran of a woman who brooked no nonsense, and whose stout form held more than enough muscle to back up her attitude. Both were Solvans; the Loraka station was set at Lake Everdawn. The territory between, if technically Lorakan, was effectively neutral.
    "Look at this, Shette." It was the young guard; he seemed glad to have her for company. He met her at the side of the building, leaving his older partner going through the travel cases she'd spread on the ground. It was a much more thorough inspection than normal, although all Shette saw was privacy clothes. The owners of the luggage, however, looked a good deal more nervous than exposed privacy clothes deserved. There was already a pair of merchants waiting behind them, enforced patience on their faces.
    "What is it?" Shette asked, reaching for the coin he held. It was a ruddy gold, and very heavy. Probably worth more money than she'd ever held before.
    "Therand gold," the youth said. He rubbed a thumb at the side of the mustache he was trying so hard to grow. "Worth a lot more than Solvan gold, at least here."
    "Gold is gold," Shette said, but her tone was puzzled; she passed her finger lightly over the crest stamped in the gold. "What's so special about it?"
    "You never heard of Therand gold?" he asked, surprised. "In Solvany, only the Upper Level wizards can make tie spells into metal... but the clans have a way to stick their magic to the gold. Like mild curses and charms. I don't know the meaning of 'em, but the marks here under the crest are supposed to tell you what the charms are. Not that I'd trust 'em— who'd tell you outright they was cursing you?"
    "Shouldn't you be careful with it, then?" Shette asked, quickly handing the coin back to him.
    "Nah. I guess it takes some time for the spell to set in." He started a more detailed explanation, but Shette didn't quite listen, as interesting as the thought of clan-magicked Therand gold might be. For beyond the gate stood Shaffron, with Ehren on his back— Ehren, whom she hadn't seen for two days. Drying sweat dulled Shaffron's normally fiery coat, and Ehren's hair, tied back and featherless, was even darker than usual with his own perspiration. Who wouldn't get hot under that brigandine, Shette thought. In fact, he was wearing his greaves and gauntlets, too, and something around his neck, and had his helmet tucked under his arm.
    She meandered over to the inspection area, an arch that came off the side of the station. Benlan— named after the recently murdered Solvan king, he'd told her, and called Ben— trailed her, not taking offense at her distraction. After all, he probably thought she was showing interest in his job.
    "We have to stop them all," he told her, putting the gold in a small pile of belongings on the table at the side of the station. "Give 'em a quick search. Jiarna always finds 'em out if they got something— she knows right where to look, and how to make 'em nervous."
    "What's Ehren been doing?" Shette asked. "He's been gone for days. And who are the two with him?" Now that she was closer, she could see two more guards off to the side, both mounted. Their ailettes looked more like Ehren's than