‘I can wrap it for you if you have something to use as a dressing.’
‘No need. That bit of magic I can do on me own.’ So saying, he reached into the back of his cart, shifted a few things around, and pulled out a tiny roll of cloth. He unravelled it then began to wrap the bandage around his injury. ‘How’s your arm?’
Annev slid the cutlass blade back under his belt and flexed his bandaged left hand. ‘Good, I think. The pain has faded.’
Crag grunted. ‘We should change your dressin’, though.’
Annev nodded and a minute later Crag was helping him unwind the sticky bandages from his prosthetic. Crag nodded at the grey-pink scars, which seemed to be healing fast, then rewrapped the injury.
‘Crag,’ Annev said, once the pedlar had finished. ‘Once I lead you out of the Brake, you can never venture back in. I’ll never see you again.’
The merchant nodded. ‘I suspected that. Wouldn’t be a proper secret village if ol’ Crag came visitin’ whenever he liked – not that I would, seein’ as my wares don’t fetch a good price.’
Annev smiled. ‘You’ll keep our secret then? You won’t tell anyone about the village or what we do there?’
Crag laid a fist over his chest. ‘I swear it.’ He paused. ‘Or you could come with me, you know. I need another pack animal, after all.’
Annev stared at the merchant, trying to decide if the man was serious. In the shadowed light of the lantern, it was hard to tell.
‘Are you really offering me a place with you?’
Crag tucked the bandage roll back inside the cart along with his staff. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you saved my life tonight. Seems only fair that I offer to save yours.’
‘But … you already did. When you carried me back to your cart and bandaged my arm – and when you crushed that monster’s throat.’
Crag smiled, lifting the drawbar to duck beneath it. ‘True enough, though you saved me from the witch in turn. But that’s not what I meant. Truth be told, we’ve each done our share on this trip. I was talkin’ about this test of yours. About you takin’ those ears back to your elders so you can say you got me killed.’
Annev’s cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. ‘How long have you known?’
Crag smiled. ‘Long enough. You’d have got a nasty surprise if you’d tried. I don’t take kindly to folk tryin’ to murder me, even if they’re friends of Sodar.’
Something dropped into place for Annev. ‘You’ve been to the village before, haven’t you?’
Crag nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve visited Chaenbalu.’
Annev noted the pedlar pronounced it correctly this time. His mouth twitched. ‘So you know Sodar, and you’ve been to the village.’ He shook his head, rolling the half-carved phoenix lantern in the palms of his hands. ‘Why all this then? Why pretend you were lost?’
‘I was lost. I came to the Brake on purpose – to find Sodar – but I got turned around. One of your witwomen found me wanderin’ nearby, and she sent one of your master avatars to keep an eye on me. Figured I should stay put at that point – didna want to make trouble for Sodar, after all – but then the Gods saw fit to send you as my guide.’
Annev tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. ‘So being a pedlar – it was all an act? You’re just another artisan or something from Sodar’s secret brotherhood?’ He didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, but he had grown to like Crag, and the thought that he was yet another thread in Sodar’s web of lies left a bad taste in his mouth.
Crag shook his head. ‘Sodar hasn’t seen me for years, and I expect we’re both happier that way. I still count him a friend, but we don’t see eye to eye.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll let Sodar explain as it’s a long story and not my place to tell it … unless you joined me on the road to Hentingsfort.’
Annev was torn. He stared mutely at the lantern in his hands, at the bulging blanket covering Crag’s cart, and finally at the pedlar himself. So many questions. So many riddles. He wanted to hear Crag’s history – and to learn the pedlar’s connection to Sodar – but he couldn’t abandon his life in Chaenbalu for those answers.
‘I can’t go with you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Chaenbalu is my home, and people are counting on me to return. My life is there.’ He thought of Myjun – of courting her once he earned his avatar title. He thought of seeing Titus and Therin again, and of wiping the smug look off Fyn’s face once he was wearing his brown avatar robes.
More than anyone, though, Annev was thinking of Sodar. He would have to leave the ministry and abandon his mentor when he returned home, but even so, he wanted to go back to Chaenbalu and see the priest one last time. He felt guilty about going on Tosan’s errand without stopping to tell Sodar about the Test of Judgement. And he had questions for Sodar. If Crag wasn’t going to give the answers freely, Annev would ask the priest himself … and about the witch’s words, too.
Son of Seven Fathers, Annev thought, brooding. Son of Keos. Vessel. Even if Sodar claimed not to know the significance of the witch’s words, he’d still lied to Annev about his parentage and his own secret past. Annev wagered that Crag was connected to it all, too – part of the secret life that included artisans and bloodlords and ageless ones.
Crag studied Annev’s face then nodded. ‘Well enough, lad. If you know your place, I’ll not drag you from it.’ Crag pushed against the drawbar and he and Annev started walking towards the road. ‘Just as well, I s’pose. I’m a fat, cranky old pedlar who’s not used to keepin’ company.’
Annev smiled. ‘Replace cranky with mysterious and I’ll agree with you.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Crag said, his tone all mock offence. ‘You’re sayin’ I’m fat.’
Annev shook his head, his smile broadening. ‘Can I deliver your message to Sodar?’ He paused then decided to take a chance. ‘Does it have anything to do with the artisans dying?’
Crag looked at him sharply. ‘What do you know of that?’
‘Arnor visited yesterday,’ Annev said, bending the truth a bit.
‘Arnor?’ Crag said, missing a step. ‘Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.’ He was silent for a moment, his smile slowly vanishing. ‘I’m surprised you heard that much. Sodar always likes to keep others in the dark for as long as possible.’ Crag’s words alarmed Annev more than he let on, but he kept quiet, hoping the merchant would speak freely. ‘Bad habit, that,’ Crag continued, ‘though I doubt it’s one you’ll ever break him of.’
‘So,’ Annev said, after a beat. ‘What message do I give to Sodar?’