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“No, sir. The men were not close enough, but stood at the rim and watched the horse pass below.”
Jennsen retrieved a cake of lye soap and replaced it in the pack. She folded the razor and put it back in, along with an extra waterskin that had tumbled out. She picked up small items—a flint, strips of dried meat wrapped in cloth, and a whetstone. A tin she had never seen before had rolled out of the pack and under a low shelf.
“What did these two people on horseback look like, then?” Sebastian was asking as he tapped a finger on the table.
As she reached under the shelf, Jennsen listened carefully, waiting to hear if this might be Richard Rahl. She couldn’t really imagine who else it could be. She didn’t believe such a thing could be coincidence.
“It was a man and a woman. But they came on only one horse.”
Jennsen thought that was strange, that both would be riding one horse. It sounded likely that it was what she expected, Lord Rahl and his wife, the Mother Confessor, but it was odd that they were on one horse. Something could have happened to the other horse. In this dangerous land such a thing wasn’t hard to imagine.
“The woman, she…” The man made a face, uncomfortable with what he had to say. “She was not upright, but lying flat”—he gestured as if draping something over the horse—“across the back. She was tied up with rope.”
As Jennsen pulled the tin out in a rush of surprise, the lid caught a jagged edge of the wooden shelf and popped off. The contents spilled out across the floor in front of her.
“What did the man look like?” Sebastian asked.
A short piece of wood wound with twine and fastened down with fishing hooks had fallen out of the top of the tin. Jennsen stared down at a dark pile of dried mountain fever roses that had spilled out after the twine. They looked like dozens of little Graces.
“The man was big, and young. He had a very grand sword, my men say, its shining scabbard held on with a baldric across his shoulder.
“That sounds like Richard Rahl,” Sister Perdita said from the doorway, startling Jennsen.
“Other men use a baldric for their sword,” Sebastian said.
While she couldn’t fathom a reason for him to have his wife tied across his horse, at the heady thought of Richard Rahl being spotted, Jennsen hurriedly scooped up the dried mountain fever roses in her trembling fingers and stuffed them back in the tin followed by the twine. She replaced the lid and quickly shoved the tin back into the pack along with the few remaining items that had fallen out.
She checked her knife in its sheath at her belt as she hastily stood next to Sebastian, waiting to hear what else the wiry man in black might have to say. Sister Perdita had stepped outside and was wrapping herself in the protective black clothes.
“Come on,” the Sister called. “We have to get down there.”
Jennsen wanted to follow after her, but Sebastian was still questioning the man. She didn’t want to leave Sebastian and go alone with Sister Perdita, but the woman was already heading off in the direction of the trail the man had pointed out.
From outside, on the other side of the buildings, came the sound of the traders jabbering excitedly. Jennsen peered around the side of the building and saw them pointing out across the flat, baked ground.
“What is it?” Sebastian asked as he followed the man out the door.
“Someone approaches,” the man said.
“Who could it be?” Jennsen whispered to Sebastian as he came up beside her.
“I don’t know. Could just be another trader arriving at the post.”
The wiry little man, having answered the questions, bowed and wanted to depart to be with his men where they huddled together in the shade beside another building. Sebastian made him wait as he went back in and pulled a black bundle off the shelf.
“We best catch up with Sister Perdita,” he said as he watched the woman vanish over the rim of the trail down into the wavering landscape of the Pillars of Creation. “She’ll protect you from Richard Rahl’s magic and help you do what you need to do.”
Jennsen wanted to say that she didn’t need Sister Perdita’s protection, that Lord Rahl’s magic couldn’t hurt her, but it was not the time to go into the whole subject with him, to explain the whole thing to him. Somehow, it never seemed the time. It didn’t really matter, anyway, what Sebastian believed about how she could get close to Richard Rahl, it only mattered that she did.
Together, the two of them stood in the sweltering sun, watching the tiny speck racing across the endless flat landscape. In the withering heat, the distant ground undulated like the rippling surface of a faraway lake. A thin plume of dust rose behind the lone rider. Their escort of a thousand men restlessly checked their weapons.
“Is it one of your men?” Sebastian asked the wiry leader of the black-robed figures.
“The ground here plays tricks with your eyes,” he said. “He is still far off; the heat only makes him look closer. It will be some time before the rider reaches us and we can tell who it is.” He smiled at Jennsen, gesturing encouragement. “Put the clothing on, and you will be covered from the sun.”
Rather than argue, Jennsen threw the gauzy, capelike garment around her shoulders. She wrapped the long scarf over and around her head, as she had seen the men doing, pulling it across her nose and mouth and then tucking the tail under the side. She was immediately surprised at how the black cloth cut the hot glare of the sun. It felt a relief, almost like standing in shade.
The man’s eyes smiled at seeing the look on her face. “Good, yes?” he asked through his own thin black mask.
“Yes,” Jennsen said. “Thank you for your help. But we must pay you for these things you gave us.”
With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “You already have.”
The man turned to Sebastian, still pulling his black scarf over his head. “I have told you all I can, all we know. My men and I go, now.”
Before Sebastian could answer, the man was already hurrying across the parched ground toward the dark knot of men waiting with their dusty mules. The men started away, pulling their mules after on lead lines, eager to be away from the soldiers.
They were headed south, in the opposite direction of the approaching rider.
“If it might be one of their men,” Sebastian said, almost to himself, “then why are they leaving?”
He looked impatiently to the small trail where Sister Perdita had disappeared, and then signaled to his column of men still waiting on horseback. The grim-looking force of men advanced across the hard ground, raising a lazy fog of dust.
“We have to go down there,” Sebastian said as he gestured toward the valley that held the Pillars of Creation. “Wait up here until we get back.”
The officer at the head of the column folded his wrists across the horn of his saddle. “What do you want us to do about that?” he asked. His greasy strings of hair fell forward over his shoulder as he pointed with his chin toward the yet distant rider.
Sebastian turned and watched the far-off horse galloping toward them. “If he turns out to be suspicious for any reason at all, kill him. This is too important to risk trouble, now.”
The officer gave Sebastian a single nod. Jennsen could see in the hungry eyes and humorless grins of the men behind him that they were pleased by the orders.
