Reclamation(165)

ERIC CROUCHED ON IRON Shaper’s floor, lashing the roll he’d made from a Narroways soldier’s blanket and sleeping mat with a braid of reed fibers. Once the rain had passed, he spent a good part of the previous afternoon helping Jay and Heart load the major share of the booty onto the clan’s rafts. In theory, the gesture would help the clan’s good will remain good in case something unpredicted happened.

While the Teachers had loaded the rafts, the clan had stripped their village with impressive speed and thoroughness. Even Shaper’s hearthstone was gone, because the Lif marshes were the one place in the Realm where stones were a rarity.

Eric slung his roll over his shoulder, picked up his pack of clothes and gear, and stepped through the empty doorway.

Arla and Heart were harnessing mismatched teams of oxen to equally mismatched sledges. Thanks to the soldiers, the clan now owned a herd of oxen big enough to slow their exodus down, so it hadn’t taken much to convince them to give over four animals to make the two teams. The sledges had been more of a problem. The Narroways soldiers had carried their supplies on their backs or on their saddles and had only had one sledge to be plundered. The clan owned one more. It had taken both Arla and Eyes Above a half hour’s arguing to wrangle it out of their hands so Arla would be able to drive Jay where they needed to go.

Jay stood near Heart, a respectful distance from the oxen, Eric noticed. His mouth was moving and Heart was nodding. The Skyman was probably giving the Teacher last-minute advice or instructions.

I hope I remember how to drive, Eric thought resignedly. I’d rather not spend two days as baggage.

The shadows around the huts had shortened a full inch since sunshowing. Except for Storm Water and Eyes Above, they were the last in the village. The whole clan had departed, either on rafts or on foot, to catch up with the oldest and the youngest, who had left the day before. The noise of Arla scolding the oxen and Heart clucking at the state of the harness felt too faint next to the sound of the reeds and bamboo leaves rattling in the wind.

Eric picked his way through the reeds and grass to where Arla was checking the set of the yoke on the right-hand oxen’s shoulder. The beast snorted and slapped her face with its tail.

“Leave off, you.” Arla smacked its rump. She saw Eric coming and grinned. “I think I liked the U-Kenai better.” She gestured at the ramshackle sledge. It didn’t have a rain cover. Its one box-seat was chipped and splintered and the driver’s bracing listed dangerously to the right. Heart and Eric had drawn the good gear, since they had farther to go. “But since my Lord Skyman over there”—she jerked her chin toward Jay—“doesn’t ride, I’ve got no choice.”

“Well, you’re not too far from where you’re going.” Eric’s pack held a map that Jay had painstakingly sketched on a piece of worn leather so Heart and Eric could find the Unifier base after they’d finished in First City. The Skyman had not volunteered the information; Eric had demanded it.

“Promise me you’ll sleep with one eye open while you’re with him,” Eric whispered.

Arla smiled only for a split second. “You feel it too, do you? I had hoped it was just me.” Eric shook his head and she sighed. “If my Lord Teacher knows any options …” She paused just long enough to see that he wasn’t going to say anything. “Neither do I.” She stroked the ox’s side and turned to face him. “You be careful as well, Eric.”

Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close in a deep kiss. Startled by her intensity, it took him a moment to respond.

When she finally released him, he wished fiercely that there was something he could say. He wanted to give her some promise or meaningful speech that would give her courage and hope. Nothing came to him. He pulled away from her slowly, silently. She didn’t press him. She just let him go.

Not quite soon enough, though. Eyes Above, leaning on Storm Water’s arm, pushed through the bamboo. Eric felt his face redden and his hands go cold at the same time. The old woman’s eyesight was bad, but it wasn’t that bad and she was, according to Arla, a strict interpreter of the Words. The boy had seen them, too. Eric could tell by the dubious frown on his face. His mother could get much the same look when she wasn’t sure about what was going on.

“Do not go too far in your task, Daughter,” Eyes Above admonished Arla, more softly than Eric had expected.

“I’ll try not to, Mother,” said Arla, but the look on her face told Eric she was thinking, too late for that.

Arla leaned over and took her son’s square-jawed face in both hands. “I expect you to take good care and plenty of it, Storm Water dena Sharp Eyes in the Light,” she said. “I expect to hear you acted as a grown man in all things, or I shall have your father wrap you in diapers and spank you until you wail.”