“Ha!” Evvy said, poking Briar. “I told you the mountains were important! And now I’ll never get to see them up close!”
“Ow,” Briar protested, glaring at her. “Haven’t you seen enough mountains?”
The girl who handled mules drew Briar closer to her side. “I’ll protect you from the skinny girl who likes mountains,” she assured him.
“I think it’s time to clean up and go to bed,” Rosethorn announced, getting to her feet. “I am sorry to hear your news,” she told the Namornese man. “We were in Gyongxe before we came here, and they had no word of this.”
“Perhaps he will return the foreign religions to favor as quickly as he took it from them,” the merchant replied. “We can all pray on that.”
Yawning, Evvy set about gathering their bowls and utensils, but Briar stopped her. “We’ll do it,” he said, taking them. “You go to bed.” From the look he gave the mule drover, Evvy wasn’t sure how much washing up would actually get done, but it was no skin off her neb, to steal one of Briar’s sayings. She hurried inside, changed the arrangement of gate stones so the cats could sleep with their favorite people, then prepared for bed. Before she closed her eyes, she sent another prayer to Heibei for Parahan.
She slept, to dreams that Parahan was running ahead of her. She was racing as fast as she could, but she couldn’t catch up, no matter how hard she tried.
Long after she could hear Briar and Evvy breathing in sleep, Rosethorn lay wide-awake, absently stroking the lanky Apricot, who lay inside the curve of her arm. She envied the cat. The day’s events and discoveries kept her thinking. Duty and wish were tearing at her heart.
Mila of the Grain, what shall I do? she wondered, desperate. I just wanted to go to the places Lark was always telling me about before I was too old to do it. I wanted to see plants and trees and flowers whose names I didn’t know in my bones, and I have. I’m bringing home seed and magicked clippings that will keep me busy for years, if I can get them there!
If I can get them there. When Evvy told me about the invasion, I confess to cowardice. I thought that the local temples would have sent word to Gyongxe somehow. Someone among them must be a far-speaker of some kind. But if they’ve been locked up for months, under guard, I can’t be sure if they know the emperor secretly made peace with Inxia, giving him a broad road to Gyongxe. I can’t be sure if the temples north of Dohan saw the armies gathering and heard gossip that their new target was Gyongxe. And if I am not sure …
Mila, my goddess, I want to go home. I want to see my lover again. I want my own food, and air I can breathe without fighting. I want to see Crane, and Niko, and the girls. I want my own garden.
But there is my duty. Somehow I have to leave the caravan and make certain that Gyongxe knows. That our First Circle Temple is prepared. They’ll need me when war comes, too. I’ll send the children on with the caravan. Briar will go if I tell him he has to look after Evvy. I think.
She lay like that for a long time, staring into the dark.
When the caravan workers came to rouse them in the gray hour before dawn, they found Rosethorn, Briar, and Evvy already awake, dressed, and packed. Most of their things, including Briar’s shakkans and Evvy’s cats, were already on a wagon whose use they had paid for. The rest they loaded swiftly, with the ease of long practice, onto packhorses. Then they saddled their riding horses. Briar elected to drive the wagon for the morning, neither Rosethorn nor Evvy being awake enough to do so. The caravansary workers brought everyone hot tea and steamed buns stuffed with pork or vegetable filling as the travelers finished their preparations.
The sun was just clear of the horizon as Rajoni, the ride leader, raised her staff. Her voice swelled in the trilling cry that was the signal to move out. More and more Trader voices rose from their own wagons and from the guards on horseback, as the caravan passed through the open gates.
THE ROAD SOUTH, DOHAN TO KUSHI
So relieved was Rosethorn to be out in the countryside, able to leave the caravan now and then to investigate a new plant, that two days of travel and three inspections by imperial soldiers passed before she realized that her two youngsters were behaving oddly. She also had to wait and stay with the caravan to be sure that her instincts were correct. Most of the time Evvy and Briar behaved as they always did when traveling. They rambled up and down the caravan, making friends with Traders and merchants alike. They helped with the horses, the meals, and cleanup. Briar spent idle moments in the back of the wagon putting together seed bombs. These were mixes of lethally long-spined thorny plants that he and Rosethorn had created to grow very fast when the cloth that held them struck the ground. Evvy had her own magical weapons to work on and she did so, knapping sharp edges onto disks of flint. All of that was perfectly normal.
In the second search by imperial soldiers who looked for Parahan, Rosethorn thought both of her youngsters looked uncommonly pale. As the soldiers questioned other travelers, Briar put his arm around Evvy, when neither she nor he encouraged gestures of affection before strangers. They were cheerful enough when they answered the soldiers’ questions, but something was odd. Then Rosethorn spotted a Yanjingyi variant of an herb she used to cleanse wounds and she left the road to get some. By the time she returned, the soldiers were waiting only to question her.
No, she would say, far more politely than she would have done had she been in a friendly country. I have seen no escaped slaves or captives. I have all I can manage keeping up with those two children there. She would point out Evvy and Briar, who watched from their seat on the wagon. Usually the big cat Monster watched, too, blinking sleepily in the sun. No, I have received no messages from anyone who wanted me to hide them on my wagon, Rosethorn would answer. I know better than to break the law in a foreign country. Besides, the Traders discourage it. Are we finished? I need to get these plants in damp wrappings before they wither.