Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy Page 6

  Juquila rose, still wearing her flirtatious smile. “Peace and safety to you, Kaberco.” She waved a farewell, adding a sensual grace to the movement. She seemed like she thought she’d won something from their exchange. Kaberco wondered what it was. In any case, it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on Tarkio, just in case he was getting mixed up in something he shouldn’t be.

  10

  Four weeks later, Tereka paused in her packing to ponder all she’d accomplished. She’d made that first run to Shinroo with no problems, perhaps because Da had arranged for Waukomis to be part of that caravan. Waukomis drove behind her on the road and made sure no one bothered her when they camped at night.

  After that trip, she’d traveled south, this time with Kemet. The dusty road that led over the dry steppe was easier going than the hills around Shinroo. She traded in Attu, Pir Bakran, and Utoro, selling shoes, cloth, and dried berries. She bought dried fish, grain, leather goods, and sand.

  She and Kemet had been lucky during their trip south. No bandit attacks, no dust storms. Da, and possibly Waukomis, had given Kemet strict orders to always position his wagon beside hers, or directly behind when the road narrowed. When they camped overnight, he parked next to her and placed crates around and beneath her wagon, creating a barrier on three sides so no one could slither underneath and disturb her. His tall, muscular form served as the barrier on the fourth side.

  Kemet also insisted on escorting her to the pit they used as a roadside privy. While she balked and blushed, she knew he was right. Off the road and hidden by bushes, the spot would be the perfect place for someone to assault her.

  Between Kemet’s ubiquitous oversight and the widespread knowledge of her skills with a knife, no one tried to molest her.

  Now the trip she’d been dreading was upon her. A run northeast to Shinroo, then south to North Rivash, a locale known to be rife with bandits.

  The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Da had lectured her repeatedly. Stay near Kemet and Hina, the other woman trader. Keep the knife handy at all times. Don’t hesitate to shoot bandits. On and on he’d droned, until Tereka wanted to push him in the river. She grinned, thinking of his earnestness as he lectured her. Despite her irritation, she was grateful for his concern. She didn’t take it for granted.

  Tereka smoothed out her change of clothing before she packed it. At least as a trader’s apprentice, she could wear brown skirts, tunics, and leggings instead of the ash-colored clothes all the villagers had to wear. Except, of course, the Prime Konamei’s guardsmen, who wore black.

  The only bright colors the people were allowed to wear were the bands sewn around the left shoulder of each garment, a color that signified the person’s profession. Because she was still an apprentice, her clothes bore the white band of a student. She sneered at the white fabric. Only a few more weeks and she could rip it off.

  When Tereka finished folding her clothing, she placed it in her rucksack with her supply of dried meat and fruit. She’d buy bread before leaving in the morning.

  Now, all she needed to do was file her papers with the syndic and check on the horses, and she’d be ready to go.

  The thought of the syndic made her bite her lip. She hated her visits to Juquila’s office. The clerks, knowing her aunt’s disdain for her, made little effort to be polite. And at times, they scrutinized her documents, searching for the tiniest error and insisting she rewrite them correctly.

  Stay polite and do what they say. It was that simple. She pressed her lips together, reminding herself it would only be a few more weeks. Then she could protest.

  With a curl of her arm, she scooped up her roll of documents and headed out the door. A gentle breeze greeted her, bearing the scents and sounds of the market. The clang of the blacksmith’s hammer, the stink of drying blood from the butcher’s stall, the aroma of baking pasties. She hastened toward the main square. Better get this over with.

  Once in the syndic’s hall, she headed for the line of traders in front of the junior clerk’s worktable. She took a quick breath when she recognized her brother. Tirk was usually easier on her than the others were.

  When her turn came, she handed over her documents. “Peace and safety, brother.”

  “Peace and safety.” His tone was flat, as if he’d never met her before.

  Tereka stifled a pang. “I’m headed for Shinroo and North Rivash.”

  Tirk shuffled her papers. “I don’t know why you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You may pass this probation if you’re lucky. But don’t think that guarantees you success as a trader. You’ll have to make the same quotas as everyone else.”

  “We’ve never had trouble in the past… ”

  “That’s because Da has carried you. Once you’re a full partner in his license, you’ll have to meet your own quota.”

  “I know that. And I can do it.”

  “Right. And I can stop the wind from blowing.”

  She stared at him, her brows drawn together. “Tirk, why are you saying this to me?”

  “Because we’re busy here, can’t you see? And I don’t like filing papers for people I know are going to fail.”

  “I’m not going to fail.” She let a touch of anger into her voice.

  “Don’t argue with me, apprentice,” Tirk said, his nostrils flaring. “I’ve given you my advice.” He rolled up her papers. “Maybe you shouldn’t go anywhere until you’ve learned your place.”

  Tereka knotted her hands together and was careful to keep her voice low. “Tirk, I’m sorry. I value your opinion, you know that.” She swallowed, seeking the words that would get him to stamp her papers. “It’s just, trading is all I know. I’d like a chance. And I know if I don’t make the quotas, then my aunt will be justified in taking away my trading license.”

  His eyelids drooped and he studied her face, his lip curled in a sneer. “Just make sure you don’t cause any trouble when she does.” He picked up his stamp. With a few thuds, he processed her documents. He placed one on his pile and handed the other back to her. “Peace and safety.”

  “Peace and safety.” She repeated the words mechanically as she took her paper. Shoulders drooping, she walked out of the hall. Tirk had been distant the past few years, but she’d always thought that was Groa’s doing, and that he didn’t want Juquila to know of his affection for his sister. But now she wondered. His manner had been hostile, anything but friendly. This wasn’t the Tirk who’d consoled her after Groa’s rages, who’d snuck her food when she was forced to go without, who’d encouraged her in her darkest moments.

  Her face flushed. How dare he speak to her like that, anyway? It wasn’t his concern if she was a successful trader or not. She’d show him. She’d show them all.

  11

  With a grin, Tereka guided her horses to position her wagon next to Kemet’s. She yanked the brake, locked the wheels in place, and let out a long breath. Idly, she exhaled, watching the plumes of her breath spin and dissipate on the breeze. They’d been four days on the road and had a successful run in Shinroo. Now they were halfway to North Rivash. So far, all had gone well.

  Maybe now she could let her guard down, at least for a few moments. Bandits rarely attacked caravans when they camped out for the night. It was harder to pillage a caravan of circled wagons. And on a frosty evening, marauders were even less likely to be out.

  She climbed down from her seat, stretching her sore muscles and cramped legs. Now to get through the night. Da had instructed her to keep her head down and not attract attention from the other traders or the guards.

  He was right, as usual. Avoiding notice was the best way to prevent anyone from filing a complaint against her. And one complaint would be all Juquila would need to extend her probation or deny her another chance to get her license.

  Tereka went through the usual nighttime preparations, feeding and watering her horses, rubbing them down, checking for injuries or sore spots. Then she and Kemet shared the food
they’d bought in Shinroo—dried meat and cheese, bread, pasties stuffed with cabbage, and a few apples. As usual, Kemet arranged a protective barrier so she could sleep undisturbed. He lifted the heavy boxes and shifted them into place barely working up a sweat. She watched him work through her eyelashes, lazily noting the flex of his muscles.

  When he finished, he escorted her to the waste pit. Her face warmed. We’ve done this so many times. Why am I now feeling a little shy about it? She shook that thought off, dismissing it as silly.

  The hawthorn bushes in front of the pit had long thorns that could slice through clothing and leave a stabbing, itchy wound, so Tereka warily circled around them. As she pulled her leggings off, she couldn’t resist teasing Kemet. “Someday you’ll get tired of listening to me pee.”

  “Even if I did, I’d never complain.” He laughed. “Your da would hide me if something happened to you.”

  She finished her business and joined him on the other side of the hawthorn bush. “I’m done for. You?”

  “Same. It was a long ride today, that’s for sure.”

  Grateful for his calm, familiar presence, she took his arm. By this time, both moons had risen. Zlu, the smaller one, was chasing Dabrey, a pair of shining halves that barely countered the shadows on the path back to the circled wagons. They strolled through the camp past the fire in the center.

  “Hey, Kemet, join us.” A trader they’d met in Shinroo beckoned to Kemet. He and four others had gathered around the fire and were gambling on some kind of game with stones and twigs. “Have a drink.”

  Kemet twisted his mouth. “I’d rather not.” He spoke so only Tereka could hear. “But my da wanted me to get to know that family. Do you mind?”

  “Go. I’ll be fine. Just don’t let them take you for all your money or something.”

  He squeezed her arm, then strode toward the traders. “I’m in. What are you playing?”

  Tereka pulled her cloak around herself and strolled to her horses. One last check on them before turning in. Nimvar, her brown gelding, stood placidly as usual. Aveh, the bay mare fidgeted and stamped. Tereka stroked her neck and face, murmuring until the animal calmed.

  She peered back toward her wagon. She didn’t want Kemet to lure her into the game, whatever it was. Better to skirt the group around the fire and keep in the shadows.

  With only the light of the moons to guide her, she made her way around the outside of the circled wagons. Her ankle turned on a loose rock and she stumbled.

  Before she regained her footing, rough hands grabbed her from behind.

  “Where are you off to, love?”

  The man’s breath smelled of cheap beer. Tereka wrinkled her nose. “Nowhere you need to follow. Let me go.” She was glad her voice didn’t shake, even though her knees trembled.

  The hands traveled to her throat. “Not so fast. Want to have some fun?”

  Her mouth was too dry for her to reply. She clenched her jaw and dug her elbow into his gut, which caused him to grunt and relax his grip. With a gasp, Tereka ducked, shaking off his hands. Then she kicked his shin.

  With a curse, he shoved her and she fell to her knees.

  “You’re a scrappy one. But not when I’m done with you.”

  Her heart raced at his threat. She scooped up a handful of dirt and sand and tossed it in his face.

  He rubbed his eyes and spit, then cursed her. That gave her enough time to jump to her feet and pull her knife from her boot. She waved it, allowing the moonlight to glimmer along its polished surface. “Don’t make me use this.” She really didn’t want to. The idea of slicing into his skin made her stomach churn.

  The man must have picked up on the indecision in her voice. “Little girls who play with knives will be sorry.” He took a step closer.

  She stepped back. “Leave now, or you’ll be the sorry one.”

  He charged toward her. She crouched, dropped one shoulder, and ran to meet him. Her shoulder hit him right under his ribs. He grunted, then screamed when she drove the knife into his thigh. She yanked out her knife and kicked the back of his knee. He dropped to the sand, clutching his bleeding leg.

  Heart pounding, with the knife still in her hand, she said, “I warned you.”

  Several guardsmen and traders came running. In between her attacker’s shouts and curses, Tereka explained what had happened.

  The chief guard grabbed Tereka’s wrist. “You used a weapon against another trader. How could you?”

  “I was only trying to keep myself safe.” How could he not see that?

  The man ignored her and shouted at one of the other guards. “You, there, take him and see to his wounds. The rest of you, go about your business.”

  When Tereka turned to comply, he stopped her. “Not you. I want a word with you.”

  Her heart, which had nearly returned to its normal cadence, sped up. She didn’t want any trouble with the guardsmen, especially the chief.

  When they were alone, the guardsman spoke. “Listen. What you did is technically against the rules but I’m not going to report you. That would only encourage scum like that to prey on others.”

  “You mean— ”

  “I mean if he complains, I’m going to say he must have fallen on your knife when you were cutting kindling for the fire.” He paused. “But you shouldn’t walk in the shadows at night. You might not be able to explain away any more accidents.” He nodded to her. “Peace and safety.”

  Mumbling her thanks, Tereka stooped and wiped the bloody blade on a tussock of grass and turned to follow the chief guard back to the fire. She halted when she saw the silhouette of a man blocking her way. He rushed toward her and she tensed, readying herself for a fight.

  “Tereka.”

  She sagged and let out her breath. “Kemet.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea anything would happen.’

  She relaxed into his embrace, comforted by his strong arms. “Neither did I.”

  “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you for a game.”

  From the smell of his breath, she guessed there was more than a game involved. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” She slid her knife into the sheath in her boot and took his arm.

  They walked through the campsite toward their wagons, Tereka steadying Kemet when he stumbled. Laughter from the campfire made her glance in that direction. Her stomach quivered. Something felt off. “Kemet, why did this happen?”

  “Because I let you down.”

  “Don’t you feel like this was planned? They lured you into a game, then someone jumped me.”

  “This kind of thing happens, and not just to you. Just bad luck we’re traveling with a warboar’s nephew.” Tereka grinned at his description of her attacker. “And I’m a wretched bodyguard.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You agree I’m wretched?”

  “No, I do not.” She bumped her elbow into his side. “I meant about the bad luck.”

  Without any more talk, they settled themselves under their wagons. It didn’t take long for Kemet’s slow breathing to tell Tereka he was fast asleep. She stared past him at the light of the campfire, wondering. Had this just been bad luck? She hoped so. She didn’t want to believe Juquila would go to such lengths to defeat her.

  12

  The sun was nearly at its zeniteh when Tereka drove her wagon through the wooden gates of North Rivash. They looked like every other set of gates in the smaller towns of Tlefas. Upright logs of pine shaved of their bark and bound together with iron plates and bolts. The tops had been carved into points, blunted now from years of snow and rain. Like every town in Tlefas, North Rivash was run down and dreary.

  Tereka let her horses follow the wagon ahead into the square behind the market. A monument to Fairness overlooked the market, a statue of a man holding a pair of scales. Honking geese, shouting vendors, and barking dogs competed for attention over the horn signaling the departure of another caravan. Good. With them gone, there’d
be less competition for the clerks’ attention and fewer delays at the syndic’s scale. More time for trading.

  The next few hours were taken up with the usual weighing of goods and filling out bills of lading. When their tasks were done, Tereka and Kemet parked their wagons in the area where vendors looking to buy items in bulk had gathered. Tereka jumped down and leaned against her wagon. “I believe it’s your turn to take care of the horses.”

  He nodded. They’d fallen into a routine when they traveled together. One would stable the horses while the other guarded their wares and tried to attract the attention of potential buyers. He led his horses to the stable, then returned for Tereka’s. “If you can sell your berries before I get back, we can sell our grain together.”

  “Good idea.” She wrinkled her nose. The acrid scent of vinegar pierced the air. “Say, maybe we should see what they’re pickling. Might be something exotic to take back.” She rolled her eyes at her own joke. There was never anything new or exotic.

  “Maybe we should eat first,” Kemet suggested. He led her horses off. Tereka leaned against her wagon, crossed her arms, and tipped her face to the sky. The sun caressed her face, sun that promised a warm afternoon. And later she’d spend the evening with Kemet. Somehow he’d grown up from the little boy she’d played in the mud with to a man lots of girls liked to look at. Including her.

  She hadn’t been waiting long when a fruit vendor approached her, a man with copper-colored skin, wrinkled in lines that suggested laughter rather than frowns. “Peace and safety, trader. What have you today?”

  “If you please, I have some of the north’s finest dried frostberries.” She pulled a small jar from her wagon and held it up, allowing the sun to illuminate the purple and red berries.

  “May I taste one?”

  “Certainly.” Tereka reached into her sack for a spoon. She extracted two berries from the jar and handed the spoon to the vendor.