“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Aramal shrugged, spreading his empty hands wide.“Except for the mages.”
“True enough,” Rasfel yanked down his mask and grinned.
“My friend here,” Aramal gestured to Ritathan.“He’s fleeing the chaos.Thought I’d come along for the excitement.”
“Oh yeah?What’s it like, walking through a portal?”Rasfel asked.
“Excuse me,” the sardonic one stepped out from the crowd.“You know this man?”
“Oh, aye, that’s Aramal.”Rasfel said cheerfully.“We’ve been doing wine trade with Athelbryght for years.When the caravans meet at the border, Aramal here has a good shoulder for unloading the barrels.”
Ritathan looked at Aramal.“You didn’t mention that.”
Aramal didn’t look at him.“You didn’t ask.”
Halithe didn’t roll her eyes to the sky for patience, but the sardonic one did.“Step away from the horses,” he commanded.“Send for Jerrold,” he said to one of his men.
“We’d prefer to speak to the Lord High Baron,” Ritathan said, even as he moved as directed.
“Aye, I’m sure,” came the snort as a horn sounded behind him, high and clear.“But Jerrold of Waerington is in charge here, and it’s him you will answer to.Now, sit where you’re told and keep silent while we wait.”
The horses were moved off and Ritathan, Aramal, and Halithe were waved to spots to sit.Halithe plopped down with her usual grace.The ground was dry, at least, and covered in leaves and pine needles.She felt a faint vibration, more like a hum, all through her body.She wasn’t used to that, but then, when was she allowed to sit on the ground?She suppressed a grin; her governess would have been horrified.Ladies don’t plop, and they don’t sit in the dirt.
The men were directed to their own places, carefully separated such that they formed the three points of a triangle under the watchful eye of their captors.
Ritathan folded into a sitting position with actual grace.“And just how long will we have to wait?”he asked, folding his hands into his sleeves.
“What does it matter?”the leader of the group said.“It takes as long as it takes.”
Ritathan sniffed and closed his eyes, sitting straight, looking perfectly at ease.
For a while Halithe studied their captors.The crossbows had been lowered, for the most part, although a few were still trained on them.Some were studying her as well, out of the corners of their eyes.
Both watching and being watched paled fairly quickly.Boredom overcame her nervousness.
She wasn’t the only one.Rasfel had drifted over to Aramal and they seemed to be talking about the grape harvest.The other guards were still all around them, but no one seemed to be paying particular attention to her.
The hum seemed louder now, the vibration stronger.She frowned and pressed her hand to the earth.“What was that?”she asked, interrupting Aramal and Rasfel.“The earth trembled.”
“Eh?”Rasfel asked, then shrugged.“Oh, they’ve started splitting stone up at the old marble quarry.Didn’t notice—part of life here in Black Hills.You’ll get used to it.”He frowned.“Kinda surprised you can feel it so far away.”
“Enough,” the sardonic one barked.
“Get off your damn high horse,” Rasfel said, frowning.
Halithe pulled her hand back into her lap and shifted to get more comfortable.Something hard poked her.
The spoon Obeda had given her was in her pocket.
She eased it out and held it in her lap.The bowl was silver and shiny, holding a distorted reflection of her face.She smoothed it with her thumb, feeling the cool metal against her skin.
She wondered…
She kept her head down, letting her hair hide what she was doing.She stared into the bowl of the spoon.“Show me,” she whispered.“Show me what I wish to see.”
Nothing happened.
Halithe glanced around.No one was watching.She narrowed her eyes and focused.“Show me what I want to see,” she demanded.“Show me…Caris.”
