Chapter Eight
More than three weeks passed before their journey ended, almost a week longer than Maryam had predicted. One wagon had failed on a rocky stretch east of Lake Atkal, and it had taken five days to locate a wainwright to construct a wheel and a smith who could forge a new rim. Now, they were arriving at Maryam’s home, deep in the heart of Deth, the land Roanna feared most, and it almost caused her to panic. So far from Pandy, so near to Lord Cargath, she could not imagine a worse predicament.
A screech overhead caught her attention. Two birds she identified as contores—raptors that feed on carrion—wheeled overhead, and she imagined for a moment they were looking at her. After all, for all intents and purposes, she was a dead woman. Her life as she knew it was over.
“Let’s unload,” shouted Maryam. “I’m tired and I want a bath.”
The command returned Roanna to the present as servants started climbing from the wagons, grabbing parcels and crates and carrying them toward the house. Roanna stretched her limbs as far as her fetters would allow and appraised the property.
The size of the house surprised her. Until now, the number of servants Maryam commanded had suggested a certain degree of wealth, so Roanna had expected to arrive at a sizeable residence. This, however, was far more massive than anything her mind had constructed. A flagstone walk, perhaps a dozen feet wide, ran from the spot where the wagons were parked through two stands of barrel stave trees before ending at the massive sandstone blocks that were the entrance’s pillars and lintel. The sprawling, four-story structure was easily the width of any half dozen homes she knew in danTennet and she suspected at least some of the outbuildings were servants’ quarters.
A hand grabbed her wrist and the shackle released. She turned to see Simo, key in hand, busily unfastening her chains.
“Maryam wants you,” he said when the last lock flicked open.
Without further comment, he jumped to the ground and headed for the house. Roanna looked up and noticed that Maryam had not yet budged. Still on her wagon, she was glaring at the house and pointing with great animation.
“Whose horses are those?” she demanded as she gestured at two massive steeds hitched near the entrance.
Their green and white barding and trappings marked them as Essem Cargath’s warhorses.
More to the point, where are their riders? Roanna wondered, as a growing unease crept over her. Seeing Maryam was vexed and suspecting any further delay on her part would only compound the woman’s anger, Roanna forced her limbs into motion and went to assist her.
“How may I help you?” she asked, looking up.
“You can start by helping me down.”
“I’m sorry. I …”
“Did I ask for an explanation?” Maryam asked as her amber eyes narrowed.
“No, Ma’am,” Roanna demurred, offering a perfunctory bow before reaching to lend her hand.
The woman’s grip was stronger than Roanna had expected, and she almost cried out as Maryam’s fingers dug into hers. Stifling her discomfort, she managed a smile as she helped her mistress climb down. Maryam grasped her shoulder and leaned close as if about to speak, then halted abruptly and stared at her home. When Roanna’s eyes followed, she saw Simo and two servant girls running toward them. Faces contorted with terror, they kept glancing back. Halfway to the wagon, one girl threw her arms into the air, pitched onto her face, and slid as she landed. Before the girl collapsed, Roanna saw something protruding from her chest. An impact on the sideboards snapped her head around to where an arrow’s shaft quivered, embedded inches away. She looked toward the house and saw two archers fitting crossbows with bolts as another raised a longbow.
Seizing Maryam by the arm, Roanna tried to pull her to cover, even as the woman struggled to break free. It took all of her strength, but Roanna wrestled her around the wagon and shoved her against it.
“This is my house,” Maryam shouted, as she fought to pull away.
“And your servants can bury you next to it,” cried Roanna, her hand around the woman’s throat, “unless you stop for a minute and help me decide what to do next.”
Cries and shrieks brought their eyes above the sideboard just as Simo and Sylene arrived beside them. At the house, two emerging servants caught the archers’ attention.
“We have to leave,” said Roanna.
Simo nodded. “This wagon’s our only chance. I’ll drive. You three climb in back.”
Maryam was opening her mouth to object when Roanna clamped it shut with her hand.
“Either you do as Simo tells you or we’ll leave you to fend for yourself.”
Screams returned their eyes to where soldiers were cutting down servants. Simo and Sylene conferred while Maryam appeared torn between wanting to remain and complying with their wishes.
Without waiting for her to decide, Roanna turned to Sylene, inclined her head toward Maryam and said, “Help me.”
Sylene nodded and each grabbed an arm and an ankle. When Roanna lifted, Sylene matched her, and they unceremoniously dumped her face down onto the wagon. As they climbed in beside, Simo cracked a whip and the horses took off. Lying on her belly, so as not to be ejected, Roanna reached past the bed’s open end and pulled the tailgate closed, latching it lest they or the wagon’s contents pitch overboard.
“No one’s following,” shouted Roanna, as she worked her way back to the driver’s seat.
By now, Maryam’s house was out of sight and Simo was urging the horses south, out of the grassland and into some low-lying hills dotted with trees.
“They’re too busy looting to bother with runaways like us,” he observed.
“Looting?” Maryam cried and tried to sit before Sylene drove a knee into her kidneys.
“Then why not slow down?” asked Roanna.
“I will,” Simo said, “when the horses start to tire. Until then, I intend to put as much distance between us and Cargath’s soldiers as I can.”
Maryam rose onto her elbows. “Armus and I have always been loyal supporters,” she lamented. “Simo, you know that. Why do you say they were looting?”
Simo glanced back and said, “All of your artwork is gone. Most of your furniture. What you didn’t see were the wagons out back and the dozen or so men who were carrying away your possessions.”
Maryam’s face fell. “How do you know they work for …?”
The wagon struck a pothole, interrupting her.
“They were Cargath’s, all right. His crest was on each of the wagons. You did notice what the soldiers were wearing, didn’t you?”
“Curse you, Simo! Of course I saw. I just can’t believe it.”
Her face sagged, and she fell into silence before the wagon bounced hard, and she cried out in pain.
“Curse you, too, Sylene. Will you please remove your knee?”
The girl ignored her, and Roanna asked, “Where are we going?”
“To my house,” said Sylene. “If there’s anything left of it.”
Her mouth twisted, and she looked down at Maryam. Each time Maryam attempted to move, Sylene drove the knee into her.
“You think you’re the only one whose life she’s stolen?” Sylene asked. When Roanna cast a questioning look, she explained, “I wasn’t always her servant. I had a home and property of my own. After my husband agreed to serve under Armus, after Maryam was certain he had gone off to war, she confiscated all of our possessions and had Duval kidnap me. Armus sometimes appears to be honorable, but he and this one have plans to emerge wealthy from the wars.”
Roanna stared down at Maryam who scowled and looked away.
“How did they think they would get away with it?” Roanna asked. “Sooner or later your husband will find out.”
“How?” Shaking her head, Sylene explained, “Armus controls all communications. Even if my husband were somehow to have learned of what she’d done, Armus would have him killed. He’d die in battle and no one would be the wiser. At the end of all this—if this ever does end—those two would wind up a lord and his lady. At least that was their plan until this morning.”
When Roanna glanced at Simo, then shot Sylene a questioning glance, she replied, “Simo’s only come under her employ recently. He wasn’t a party to any of this.”
“Everyone else?” asked Roanna.
“The other servants? Most were brought into service to repay various debts. As far as I know, you and I were the only ones the two of them kidnapped outright.”
“What happens next?”
“It all depends on what’s left. I’m going to try to put my life back together. I’m not sure what to do with this one,” she said, delivering another jab with her knee. Maryam grunted, but seemed too dejected to complain. “You’re welcome to stay, but I don’t think I can do much more for you than that.”
Half an hour later, Simo reined in the team. The horses were lathered and frothing, and the group had taken as much pounding as they could endure. Simo spied a cluster of damass trees and steered the team beneath them. As the wagon creaked to a halt, a distant rumble caught Roanna’s attention. She turned and saw storm clouds to the north and her thoughts went to Pandy. In an earlier time, she thought, visions might have offered tantalizing hints. Now there was only longing and emptiness. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, so before the rest noticed, she wiped them away.
After an hour, the horses recovered. Simo was reaching for the reins when a devastating pain behind Roanna’s eyes turned her world scarlet. Her vision tunneled, and she clutched her head with both hands, trying to keep it from bursting. Curled up in a ball, dimly aware of Sylene’s hand on her shoulder, she thought she heard Simo asking, “What’s wrong?”
As suddenly as it had struck, the torment passed. She was about to assure Simo she was fine, when her mind filled with the image of a dark-complected man with a shaved head, a braided topknot, and a thick black moustache. A large gold ring with a golden sun at its center dangled from his left earlobe. In the next instant, she saw hundreds, perhaps thousands of soldiers marching or riding behind him. Then, as abruptly as the pain, the vision vanished.
“We have to go,” Roanna murmured, shaken by the experience’s vividness.
Her prior foresights had been murky at best, yet this … vision? waking dream? … had all the clarity of the world around her. While she did not know what to make of it, she knew it was real. Moreover, it felt like the present and not a future event.
“What did you say?” Simo asked, placing a hand on her forearm.
“Drive!” Roanna shouted, looking back, certain they were coming.
When Simo opened his mouth to ask again, she turned and grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Drive!” she demanded. “Drive as though your life depends on it! We have to get out of here.”
A noise behind them grew and this time she knew it was not distant thunder.
“If you love your life, if you want to live to see tomorrow …”
Before she could finish, Simo lifted his gaze from hers and looked back. His eyes widened, and he reached for the whip. He shouted at the horses as dust clouds formed above the hill behind them. When the horses started slowly, he lashed them until they broke into a gallop, then kept whipping until they had left the dust far behind.