“They’re easier than horses,” Cat said, as they bought a handful of goods for resale in the big city. Nothing too dramatic, nothing that would attract unwanted attention…indeed, with a glut of clothes on the market, it was quite plausible that a peddler would hurry to Alexis in the hope of selling them before their value collapsed completely. “You just have to keep them pointed in the right direction.”
Emily sighed, then nudged the oxen down the road. They were slow, steady beasts; she thought she would have liked them if they’d moved a little faster. It would have been easier to walk, she told herself. Alexis wasn’t that far away. But the cart would attract less attention than three people on the road, two clearly mercenaries and the third a woman. She just hoped the guards wouldn’t find the hidden weapons. They might overlook a dagger, particularly a virgin blade, but not actual swords.
“The traffic is lighter than I expected.” Jade’s voice was worried. “There are normally more people making their way to the big city.”
“Going through the gates must be a nightmare,” Emily said. The gates were bottlenecks at the best of times, made worse by the guards inspecting every vehicle. “A farmer taking his crop to market might find it rotten before he had a chance to sell.”
“There are preservation spells for that,” Cat grumbled.
“Yeah, but not everyone can afford them,” Emily said. She hoped Cat wouldn’t say that in front of the guards. A charmed casket designed to preserve food wasn’t expensive, for an aristocrat, but it was so far beyond the average peasant farmer that the guards would know something was definitely wrong. “A peasant has to rely on more mundane ways to keep his food fresh.”
She watched the passing traffic as they slowly inched down the road. Most of the travelers seemed to be women or older men, save for a handful of young men on horseback. They carried no livery that Emily could see, but she was fairly sure they were couriers. She didn’t like the absence of anything to show their allegiance; she suspected it was a tacit admission that the roads near Zangaria were no longer safe. But then, Jade had told her about someone trying to kidnap Alassa only a few short weeks ago. The enemy forces were clearly ready to gamble for vast rewards.
A line of soldiers appeared in the distance, marching towards them. Emily felt her heart clench, even though it didn’t look as though the men were doing anything more than hurrying towards their next deployment. They had the easy gait of men who knew what they were doing, men who’d been tested in the fire…she wondered, suddenly, if she’d seen them at Farrakhan. King Randor had sent an entire regiment of musketeers to the war, just to test the new weapons in combat.
And these men are musketeers, Emily thought. She had the sudden urge to hide her face, but it was already too late. They might have seen me in the war too.
The soldiers marched past, their boots tramping up dust. Emily allowed herself a moment of relief, then tried to encourage the oxen to go faster. The beasts declined, seemingly content to plug ahead at walking pace. Emily glanced back at Jade, then shrugged. They’d just have to put up with them.
“We can sell them for food after we get to the city,” Jade said. “I imagine they’ll go down well.”
It was nearly an hour before they reached a watering place a mile or two from the city walls. Emily unhitched the oxen and pointed them at the river, then motioned for the boys to put on their disguises. There was no grumbling or joking now, just a grim awareness that it was time to play for keeps. She dabbed powder on her face, drew lines to suggest that she was in her thirties and tied her hair back in a scarf. The loose dress suggested, very strongly, that she was married and had children. She just hoped the guards would find it convincing.
“I don’t know how women can stand to wear dresses,” Cat said, as he scrambled back into the cart. He looked surprisingly convincing, particularly when he wasn’t moving. “How do you cope?”
“Society doesn’t really give us a choice,” Emily said, although she knew that wasn’t really true. Alassa might shock the world if she wore trousers in public, but commoner girls often wore loose trousers when they were working. “Just imagine the dress as a set of robes instead.”
“That’s different,” Cat said. “They’re robes.”
“It’s not that different,” Emily said, as she hitched the oxen to the cart once again. “But dresses are often cut to fit a particular woman.”
She looked them up and down, then passed them the fish sauce. Cat grimaced, but applied it to his lips anyway. Jade didn’t seem quite so bothered by the smell. Emily wasn’t surprised. She didn’t know much about Cat’s family, but she knew it was magical. He would have been allowed to develop fussy eating habits that Jade, whose parents were commoners, would never have been permitted. Emily understood, more than she cared to admit. A fussy eater was one who had the luxury of many different types of food.
“Here we go,” she said, after nibbling a little of the sauce herself. It made her mouth taste foul. “Remember, keep your mouths shut unless they speak to you directly.”
“Yes, daughter,” Cat crackled. His voice was almost passably feminine, if the speaker had smoked several dozen cigarettes a day. “We will do as you command.”
Jade snickered. Emily snorted at them both, then nudged the oxen into motion. They inched back onto the road, then crawled down it at a snail’s pace. Emily found herself willing them to move faster, even though she didn’t really want to reach the gates in a hurry. It would be better, perhaps, to reach them in late afternoon. The guards would be tiring, but not on the verge of shutting the gates for the night.
Her heart started to pound as she saw the tailback. Several dozen carts, lined up in front of the South Gate; dozens of farmers and salesmen, grumbling as they moved slowly towards the city. A handful were happily chatting with old friends, although they ignored Emily and the others. She was just as happy to be ignored. The disguises couldn’t be tested too openly.
The line kept moving forwards slowly, very slowly. She felt her heart starting to pound as they finally reached the gate, the portcullis opening and closing every time a cart moved into the city. It was a neat little trap, she had to admit; anyone who caused trouble would be caught at the bottom, allowing the guards to pour boiling oil on their heads. She could feel the wards drifting around the gatehouse, wards designed to look for…what? It was all she could do to keep her magic under tight control. The wards might have been designed to provoke a reaction rather than look for anyone in particular.
Randor is hunting for magic-users, she thought, as the cart slowly inched forward into the gatehouse. The portcullis slammed closed behind them, nearly making her jump. I guess any magicians they catch get an offer they can’t refuse.
She forced herself to look up as the guards advanced towards her. They wore the king’s livery, rather than the uniforms of the City Guard. She rather suspected that wasn’t a good sign. The City Guard had been meant to be independent of the king, to protect the city rather than Randor’s throne. If the guard had been scattered…she hoped it had been folded into the king’s army, but she doubted it. The guardsmen had probably been rounded up and sent into exile.
The lead guard leered at her. “Name?”
“Millie of Easterbrook,” Emily lied. Easterbrook was several days away by horse, far enough that no one could prove she was lying in a hurry. “Wife of Caleb, Mother of Frieda.”
The guard eyed her for a long moment. Using familiar names was a risk–Emily had no idea if Randor knew she’d broken up with Caleb or not–but she didn’t dare risk getting caught in an obvious lie. Besides, both Caleb and Frieda were common names.
He gestured to Jade and Cat. “And these old crones?”