A Journey of the Heart by Catherine M. Wilson

  "I will."

  I knew what she meant -- that there's a difference between war and murder.

  "I'll tell your sister she has no cause to grieve," said Sparrow.

  "You must speak with the Lady too," I said. "You must convince her that my mother is alive."

  "I'll try."

  "You must do more than try. If Merin believes my mother has left this world, she'll let go of the thread of life to follow her."

  "Why would she do that?"

  "My mother is to Merin what Eramet was to you."

  Then Sparrow understood. "I remember," she said. "If you hadn't held on to me, I might have followed Eramet."

  I smiled at her. "It was you who held on to me," I reminded her.

  Even in the moonlight, I saw her blush.

  "Once I find Maara," I said, "I'll go home and bring my mother here. Nothing but the sight of her will convince Merin that she's alive. Tell Merin anything you like. Just don't let her give up hope."

  "Wait," said Sparrow. "I have a better idea. Let Tamar go to fetch your mother. If I send her off tonight, she can be back again within the week."

  "But she'd have to go alone."

  "Of course."

  "She's too young."

  "She's young," said Sparrow, "but she has her sister's courage. She approached Vintel at dinnertime and demanded that Vintel allow her to go home with you. Vintel refused, and Tamar stamped her foot and let loose a stream of language that turned even Vintel's ears red."

  If she had been there, I would have scolded my little sister for doing something so foolhardy, but I couldn't help chuckling a little at the picture of Tamar berating someone as powerful as Vintel.

  "After she put on a show like that," Sparrow said, "no one will question her disappearance. They'll think she ran off home anyway, with or without Vintel's permission."

  I didn't like the idea of risking my sister's life until I wondered how safe she would be in Merin's house.

  "All right," I said. "Tell her I'm confident that she'll do well."

  "I will."

  "When my mother arrives, you'll have to find a way to take her to Merin without Vintel seeing her."

  "Let me worry about that," said Sparrow. "I'll speak with Namet. She'll know what to do."

  Of course Namet would know, I thought. Namet might cast her cloak of invisibility over my mother and bring her unseen into Merin's chamber, even under the noses of Vintel and all her warriors.

  "Give Namet my solemn promise," I said. "Tell her I'll bring her daughter home to her."

  I bent to pick up my pack. Sparrow helped me lift it to my shoulders. It was bulky, but not too heavy for me. Then I slipped my bow out of its case and strung it.

  It was near midnight. The moon, waxing almost full, shone brightly overhead. Sparrow took hold of my bow and turned it to the light.

  "So beautiful," she said. "And so deadly."

  The last secret I had kept from her lay upon my tongue. I would have loved to spit it out.

  "I knew Vintel killed him," Sparrow whispered, "but I didn't know this was his until a few weeks ago."

  When I opened my mouth to tell her I had withheld the truth from her only to spare her pain, she put her fingertips against my lips.

  "It doesn't matter," she said. "Vintel thought it would, but it doesn't. If I were to break this bow into a thousand pieces and throw them in the river, Eramet would still be dead." She put her arms around me. "May it serve you well, Tamras of the Bow. There's no one in the world I love more than you."

  56. Blood Debt

  I feared the moonlight would reveal me to someone in the household, so I left Merin's house by an unused way that wound through a thicket to the east, away from the river. I took cover in a grove of alders that grew along the banks of a stream. There I sat down, to consider what to do next.

  My words to Sparrow had been echoing in my head ever since I spoke them. I think Vintel intends to kill her. I had no reason to believe that Vintel would keep her word to me. Why would she send Maara to Laris, someone who had opposed her in the past? Maara's death was what Vintel wanted. She had wanted it for a long time. She would never have a better opportunity.

  I had thought and thought about where Vintel's warriors might be holding Maara. There was no place within Merin's house to hide her. She must be out in the countryside. I doubted that Vintel would keep her at one of the farms. What Vintel was doing was best done in secret, with as few witnesses as possible.

  My first idea was to travel south, toward Laris's house, but if Vintel's warriors were taking her to Laris, they didn't mean to kill her. If they did mean to kill her, where would they go? They wouldn't travel south, where someone might see them commit their treachery, where someone might find her body. They would go the other way. They would go north and kill her close to our northern border, and if someone chanced to find her, her death could be blamed on our enemies.

  And Vintel would claim that Maara had been returning to her own people, as Vintel always suspected she would.

  Two roads went north, the one that followed the river and the one that wound through the hills to the northeast, the road we took with Laris to Greth's Tor. The river road was the easier one. A day's travel would take them beyond our borders, and then they could do anything they wanted.

  Keeping out of sight of Merin's house, I made my way north and west until I reached the river road. Soon I discovered that my choice had been the right one. A band of warriors had passed along that road not long before. I found a place just out of sight of the household where they had camped. The ashes of the fire were cold. Farther on I saw places where they had rested or where someone had left the trail to relieve herself. They were traveling at an easy pace. I pushed myself, to close the distance.

  By the time the sky began to lighten in the east, I was far from Merin's house. Although I hadn't slept more than a few hours in the last two days, I dared not stop to rest. As the light grew, I saw signs all around me of their passage. The grass, wet with dew, showed me every footprint, the trodden blades still bent.

  The winding trail followed the river. Tall rushes grew on either side of it, making it impossible to see very far ahead. I tried to listen, but there was a roaring in my ears. The gentle ground offered itself as a soft bed. I stumbled. Had my eyes closed? I had seen tired warriors walk along beside their comrades fast asleep. Had I slept?

  They were resting, sitting by the side of the road. I never heard them, although I heard them fall silent when they saw me. I came around a bend and blundered into them. Were there only half a dozen? There seemed so many.

  I stopped. For a long time no one moved. Then we all moved.

  The closest was several yards away. Before she reached me, I buried an arrow to the feathers in her chest. The others stopped.

  I nocked another arrow in the bow but didn't draw it. I waited. The woman who lay dead at my feet must have been their captain. The rest were uncertain what to do.

  "Disarm yourselves," someone said. It was Maara's voice.

  One of them started to lay down her sword. Another said, "She can't stop all of us."

  I drew the bow and sighted the tip of my arrow on the woman who had spoken. She dropped her sword. The rest let their swords fall. I lowered the bow, keeping the arrow nocked.

  "Step back," said Maara. "Stay close together. Tamras, kill anyone standing alone."

  The warriors quickly bunched together. When they stepped away from their weapons, Maara collected them. All but one she hurled into the river where it ran swiftest through tumbled rocks. The last she kept. Then she came to stand beside me.

  "Go home," she told them.

  "We need to make a litter," said one, "to take our friend home."

  "Come back for her," said Maara, "or carry her as best you can."

  Two of them picked up their fallen comrade and followed the others back the way they had just come. As soon as they were out of sight, Maara drew me off the trail into a stand of trees that gave
us a little cover.

  "How far behind is the pursuit?" she asked me.

  "The pursuit?" I hadn't thought about that.

  Maara could see that I wasn't thinking clearly. She took the pack from my shoulders, to carry it herself.

  "I can take mine," I told her.

  "No time now," she said. She reached out her hand. It took me a moment to understand that she wanted my bow. I gave it to her. "And the quiver." I gave her that too. She turned and walked away from me. I was confused again, until I saw that she meant for me to follow her. Then I knew how tired I was.

  After we had traveled for several hours, Maara found a place for us to rest in a thicket on the side of a low hill where we had a clear view to the south, so that we would see anyone coming after us in time to elude them. The moment we stopped, my legs collapsed under me. A litter of dry leaves and twigs barely covered the stony ground, as comfortable to me as a featherbed.

  Maara sat down beside me.

  "Before you sleep," she said, "tell me what's happened."

  How she made any sense of what I told her I don't know, but she seemed satisfied.

  "We'll talk more later," she said. "Go to sleep."

  I awoke in the dark. Maara's hand was on my shoulder.

  "I know you're tired, but it will be safer if we travel at night."

  I could just make out the silhouette of the hills against the last of the twilight. The moon was rising. We had the whole night before us.

  I started to get up.

  "Wait," said Maara. "Eat first." She handed me a piece of bread and a thick slice of meat. "It was good thinking, to bring food with you."

  "I never would have thought of it," I told her. "Sparrow did. She made up our packs."

  "Sparrow did?"

  I nodded.

  "You better tell me again what happened in Merin's house."

  This time I had my wits about me. I told her what she already knew, that it was Vintel who sent the messenger to Tamar, to lure Maara away from the household. I told her about my conversations with Vintel, about the bargain I had made, about what Vintel had done to Merin, about Sparrow finding me in the armory and helping me escape.

  "Why didn't you keep your part of the bargain?" Maara asked me.

  It was the last thing I expected her to say. "Because I doubted that Vintel would keep her part of it. Where did you think her warriors were taking you? They certainly weren't taking you to Laris."

  "They were taking me to my death," she said, "as they would also have taken you to yours."

  That had never once occurred to me. I had been so concerned for Maara that I hadn't spared a moment to wonder what Vintel meant to do with me. Now I saw that by saving Maara's life I had saved my own, and Vintel had once again defeated her own designs. If she had persuaded me to trust her, I might have kept our pact, but her cruelty to Merin destroyed the last shred of trust I might have had in her.

  A chill breeze blew, rustling the branches overhead. Clouds drifted across the moon's bright face. I shivered. Maara reached for my cloak and settled it around my shoulders.

  "What are we going to do?" I asked her.

  "First," she said, "we're going to keep from being caught. The minute Vintel discovered you were gone, she would have sent her people out after you. She can't afford to let you get away from her now. You have too much power to cause her serious trouble."

  "Me?" I had never felt so powerless.

  "Vintel has done something now that she can't undo. As long as you're alive, you are a witness to her treachery."

  "Can we go to Laris?" I asked. "Will she help us, do you think?"

  Maara shook her head. "We can't go south now. It's too dangerous. We can't travel through Merin's land. We'd have to go around it, through the mountains, and it's too far on to wintertime to go that way."

  "Where can we go then?"

  "We have no choice but to go north and find someplace to winter there."

  In the north? In stories the north was a place of mystery and danger. Our enemies dwelt there, and other things I knew of from tales meant to frighten children. They frightened me, until I remembered that the north was not unknown to Maara.

  We walked all night, keeping away from the well-traveled trails. At first light we made camp in a forest of young trees. The night had been chilly, and now a thick mist rose up around us. Maara chanced making a small fire. Fires were hard to see in daylight as long as they didn't smoke. The little bit of smoke our campfire made hung like the mist, invisible.

  We huddled close to the small blaze and had a bite to eat. Maara was preoccupied. She stared into the fire but her eyes looked inward. I watched her as the pale daylight burned through the mist. I wasn't thinking of our situation. I was thinking how beautiful she was.

  "If you hadn't come after me," she said at last, "you could have brought your mother back to Merin's house and exposed Vintel's lie."

  "What good would that have done? Vintel has a household full of warriors loyal to her."

  "It would have been a risk, but I think one worth taking."

  "Then let's go back," I said. "When Tamar brings my mother -- "

  "No." She shook her head. "Don't you understand? The warrior you killed belonged to Vintel, and she will claim her right to take your blood for the blood you spilled. You can't go back now, not until you have the power to challenge Vintel with arms."

  My heart fell. "When will that be? I have no warriors to command. I'm not even a warrior yet myself."

  "I would dispute you about both those things," she said, "but your situation is much worse now than it might have been."

  Was she scolding me? I felt the first touch of anger.

  "Are you saying I should have let them kill you?"

  "In all honesty, I'm glad that I still have my life, but I hate the price you paid for it."

  I would have paid any price, I thought to myself. I couldn't say the words aloud. I didn't know how to speak to her, to tell her what was in my heart, that I could never have made Merin's choice. Of what use to me was my inheritance if keeping it meant losing love.

  Maara took the first watch. When she woke me, the mist had burned away, and I caught a glimpse of deep blue sky through the golden canopy of leaves overhead.

  I was afraid that if I sat still I would fall asleep, so I reorganized our packs, just to have something to do. Sparrow had thought of everything. She had packed a change of warm clothing for each of us, an awl and several needles, scraps of cloth for mending, bits of thick leather to make new boot soles, firestones, even a copper pot. She must have taken everything of value we owned that was light enough to carry. She had also found my knife, the one Maara gave me. I fastened it to my belt.

  There was food enough to last us several weeks if we were careful -- dried meat and fruit, barley, oat flour, salt -- as well as the packages of herbs I always carried with me. The one thing I regretted was Maara's token, her mother's gift. She had a habit of playing with it when she was thinking, and more than once that morning I'd seen her reach for it.

  I was doing up Maara's pack when I discovered, tucked away among her clothing, the thong that Gnith had told me was a binding spell. A love spell, Namet called it. I smiled at Gnith's cunning, but I knew no leather thong had created the feeling that now filled my heart. At best it had only encouraged it to grow, by drawing close to me the one who had been the center of my world from the moment I first saw her.

  I wished I could see Maara's face, but it was covered by a fold of her cloak, to keep the daylight out of her eyes. A thought tickled the back of my mind and made me smile. When I looked at it more closely, I nearly laughed out loud. I had lost everything, my home, my family, my friends, my inheritance, my safety, almost my life, and I had never in my life been happier.

  57. Outlaws

  After another night's travel we were far from Merin's land. No pursuit would find us now. Now we faced new dangers, from strangers and from the weather. So far we had seen no one. It wasn't likely that
we would meet other travelers as long as we traveled at night, and during the day Maara kept us well hidden. We'd had good weather too, though the early morning air had a bite that made me shiver.

  We had traveled all night through open country until, just before dawn, Maara took us into a forest where we made our camp. Again we took turns watching through the day. I woke, late in the afternoon, to the smell of oat cakes. Maara had a small fire burning, and she had set the cakes to bake on a flat rock. I would have eaten them half-cooked, but she warned me away with her eyes.

  "I'm starving," I protested.

  "Do you want to walk all night with a stomach ache?"

  I laughed. "I don't get stomach aches."

  "No?"

  "Never."

  Maara looked up at me and smiled. Now that we weren't in danger of being caught by Vintel's warriors, worry lines no longer creased her brow, but the dark smudges under eyes blurred with weariness made me anxious for her. She had slept too little because she had let me sleep too long.

  "Must we travel tonight?" I asked.

  "Are you too tired?"

  "No," I told her. "You are."

  She sat an arm's length from me across the fire. I reached out and touched her cheek with my fingertips. "You look worn out."

  She closed her eyes. "I wish you hadn't reminded me."

  "Then let's both sleep through the night and go on in the morning."

  She considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. "That would be wise. We have a long way to go, and we'll travel faster by daylight."

  In Merin's house we had filled oat cakes with bits of dried fruit and nuts and drizzled honey over them, but none had ever tasted as good to me as those plain, unsweetened cakes roasted by the fire. We washed them down with icy water from a stream. When our hunger was satisfied, Maara built up the small cooking fire into a blaze big enough to ward off the chill of the night air.

  "Do you have any idea where we're going?" I asked her.