“Are you then?” he asked, then paused and gave me a second, closer look. “Well then, I guess you are.”
Of course. Trapis never saw the clothes, only the child inside them. “I stopped by to let you know where my things are. On the roof of the candle works there’s a place where three roofs meet. There are some things there, a blanket, a bottle. I don’t need any of it anymore. It’s a good place to sleep if anyone needs one, dry. No one goes there….” I trailed off.
“That’s kind of you. I’ll send one of the boys round,” Trapis said. “Come here.” He came forward and gathered me into a clumsy hug, his beard tickling the side of my face. “I’m always glad to see one of you get away,” he said softly to me. “I know you’ll do just fine for yourself, but you can always come back if you need to.”
One of the girls on a nearby cot began to thrash and moan. Trapis pulled away from me and turned to look. “What what,” he said as he hurried over to tend to her, his bare feet slapping on the floor. “What what. Hush hush.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
A Sea of Stars
I RETURNED TO DROVER’S Lot with a travelsack swinging by one shoulder. It held a change of clothes, a loaf of trail bread, some jerked meat, a skin of water, needle and thread, flint and steel, pens and ink. In short, everything an intelligent person takes on a trip in the event they might need it.
However, my proudest acquisition was a dark blue cloak that I had bought off a fripperer’s cart for only three jots. It was warm, clean, and, unless I missed my guess, only one owner from new.
Now let me say this: when you’re traveling a good cloak is worth more than all your other possessions put together. If you’ve nowhere to sleep, it can be your bed and blanket. It will keep the rain off your back and the sun from your eyes. You can conceal all manner of interesting weaponry beneath it if you are clever, and a smaller assortment if you are not.
But beyond all that, two facts remain to recommend a cloak. First, very little is as striking as a well-worn cloak, billowing lightly about you in the breeze. And second, the best cloaks have innumerable little pockets that I have an irrational and overpowering attraction toward.
As I have said, this was a good cloak, and it had a number of such pockets. Squirreled away in them I had string and wax, some dried apple, a tinderbox, a marble in a small leather sack, a pouch of salt, hook-needle and gut.
I’d made a point of spending all my carefully hoarded Commonwealth coin, keeping my hard Cealdish currency for my trip. Pennies spent well enough here in Tarbean, but Cealdish money was solid no matter where in the four corners you found yourself.
A final flurry of preparation was being made as I arrived. Roent paced around the wagons like a restless animal, checking everything again and again. Reta watched the workers with a stern eye and a quick word for anything that wasn’t being done to her satisfaction. I was comfortably ignored until we headed out of the city, toward the University.
As the miles rolled away, it was as if a great weight slowly fell away from me. I reveled in the feel of the ground through my shoes, the taste of the air, the quiet hush of wind brushing through the spring wheat in the fields. I found myself grinning for no good reason, save that I was happy. We Ruh are not meant to stay in one place for so long. I took a deep breath and nearly laughed out loud.
I kept to myself as we traveled, not being used to the company of others. Roent and the mercenaries were willing to leave me alone. Derrik joked with me off and on, but generally found me too reserved for his tastes.
That left the other passenger, Denna. We didn’t speak until the first day’s ride was nearly done. I was riding with one of the mercenaries, absently peeling the bark from a willow switch. While my fingers worked, I studied the side of her face, admiring the line of her jaw, the curve of her neck into her shoulder. I wondered why she was traveling alone, and where she was going. In the middle of my musing she turned to look in my direction and caught me staring at her.
“Penny for your thought?” she asked, brushing at an errant strand of hair.
“I was wondering what you’re doing here,” I said half-honestly.
Smiling, she held my eyes. “Liar.”
I used an old stage trick to keep myself from blushing, gave my best unconcerned shrug, and looked down at the willow wand I was peeling. After a few minutes, I heard her return to her conversation with Reta. I found myself strangely disappointed.
After camp was set and dinner was cooking, I idled around the wagons, examining the knots Roent used to lash his cargo into place. I heard a footfall behind me and turned to see Denna approaching. My stomach rolled over and I took a short breath to compose myself.
She stopped about a dozen feet from me. “Have you figured it out yet?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Why I’m here.” She smiled gently. “I’ve been wondering the same thing for most my life, you see. I thought if you had any ideas….” she gave me a wry, hopeful look.
I shook my head, too uncertain of the situation to find the humor in it. “All I’ve been able to guess is that you’re going somewhere.”
She nodded seriously. “That’s as much as I’ve guessed too.” She paused to look at the circle the horizon made around us. The wind caught her hair and she brushed it back again. “Do you happen to know where I’m going?”
I felt a smile begin a slow creep onto my face. It felt odd. I was out of practice smiling. “Don’t you know?”
“I have suspicions. Right now I’m thinking Anilin.” She rocked onto the edges of her feet, then back to the flats. “But I’ve been wrong before.”
A silence settled over our conversation. Denna looked down at her hands, fidgeting with a ring on her finger, twisting it. I caught a glimpse of silver and a pale blue stone. Suddenly she dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at me. “Where are you going?”
“The University.”
She arched an eyebrow, looking ten years older. “So certain.” She smiled and was suddenly young again. “How does it feel to know where you are going?”
I couldn’t think of a reply, but was saved from the need for one by Reta calling us for supper. Denna and I walked toward the campfire, together.
The beginning of the next day was spent in a brief, awkward courtship. Eager, but not wanting to seem eager, I made a slow dance around Denna before finally finding some excuse to spend time with her.
Denna, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease. We spent the rest of the day as if we were old friends. We joked and told stories. I pointed out the different types of clouds and what they told of the weather to come. She showed me the shapes they held: a rose, a harp, a waterfall.