GriffinSinger

1. Seer, Sand, and Secrets-4

In the late afternoon, not far from a quiet creek, they found shelter in some shallow caves. Irenya picked her moment and approached Julis as he tended the horses.

He greeted her. ‘Come to keep me company, have you?’

‘Mmm. Like some help? I was just wondering … I mean, I’m curious to know if Elaaron ever asked you why you were in my room that night. At Akkod.’

The idea of Elaaron talking to Julis struck her as odd. Throughout their journey, she hadn’t seen them exchange more than a few words. Julis kept to a steady rhythm, brushing coats free of dusty streaks. Irenya asked what was uppermost in her mind.

‘Do you think Gedric’s a bit more relaxed these days?’

Between brush strokes, Julis paused to eye her. ‘Meaning?’

‘I heard something … the other night, when I was sick. Heard him talking to another man. Someone from Cheron by his manner of speaking.’

The look Julis shot her was intense, though he didn’t alter his brushing rhythm. ‘Meia preserve me. Why would Gedric be out in the middle of the night, talking to a man from Cheron? And you squatting in the grass. How is it that I missed them?’

‘He didn’t know I was there, and it wasn’t where you found me. I went further along the stream.’ She repeated Gedric’s conversation with the unseen man. ‘I’ve been thinking hard about it all day, trying to remember. I know the name Pullen is right, because I had a school friend with that name … Elspeth Pullen.’

‘Four barrels, eh. I wonder who Gedric’s friend is in Pullen. And I wonder what the barrels are worth, for him to go to such trouble. And risk.’

‘D’you know what’s in them?’

‘Dangerous powder, courtesy of the Rauballis.’

‘Bloody heck, Julis, I thought it was supposed to be a secret.’

He shrugged but made no comment.

She finger-combed Nettle’s mane. ‘The explosion in Akkod … the day of the attack. I think black powder was used, which means someone has a supply. The missing barrel perhaps? The one the man from Cheron referred to.’ Irenya’s mind shot off in another direction. ‘It could be that Natham somehow got his hands on the powder. Buying it with the jewellery.’

‘Stolen jewellery most likely. Grab a dandy brush and start on Nettle.’ He stopped his work to check hers. ‘Not her underbelly and face, mind. Likely Natham stole some from Ilkyrie. Old Duikin would know if anyone is missing their trinkets.’

Irenya thought of her one piece of jewellery—the ruby Elaaron had given her—and did a quick calculation. No, it was safe … She remembered wearing it long after Natham had left Ilkyrie.

‘Odd, that Gedric’s partner-in-crime was from Cheron, because I won’t ever forget what I saw the night we stayed there.’ She began to describe the clandestine scene from her inn window, then remembered she had already revealed the story to Julis.

He was peering into a horse’s mouth. ‘Ah yes, and who was the phoney drunk, I wonder? You had not seen him before?’

‘A local outlaw, most likely. He certainly looked like a ruffian to me.’

Julis gave an amused snort. ‘A ruffian, eh? An outlaw.’

‘Anyway,’ Irenya ignored his teasing tone and continued brushing Nettle, ‘I’m thinking maybe Gedric had been organising the theft of the four barrels that night. Maybe that’s why he looked guilty. Though I still can’t work out why the ruffian was there. Or why he looked concerned when he glanced up and saw me. What d’you think?’ She started brushing the pony’s mane.

Julis whistled under his breath while he picked a hoof clean. He glanced at her. ‘Not the mane! You will break the hairs. And when you are done there, start filling nosebags with oats from the sack. One rounded scoop—but mind, only a level one for ponies. Good of you to help. I do miss Jilali sometimes. She was excellent with the horses.’

Privately, Irenya didn’t miss the prickly guard at all. She had not entirely forgiven Jilali for snatching the opportunity to humiliate her after the nerve-wracking ride through the Ilkyrie mountain pass. ‘Will she catch up with us?’

‘No. Her injury extends up the back of her thigh and into the buttock area. She will need to stay at Akkod for at least a whole moon. Longer, very likely.’ He sniffed the air. ‘Smells as though our meal will not be long.’

The servants had prepared rabbits caught earlier that day and stewed them with wild herbs and tubers. The group ate as usual, standing around the fire to stretch and relieve tired muscles.

‘How goes the belly?’ asked Leachim beside her. ‘You look more like yourself, less pinched.’ He glanced up at the inky canopy of sky. ‘Not a star to be seen. I trust you will not need to make unwelcome trips in the night. I smell rain. We will thank Meia for the caves.’ After a brief pause, he asked, ‘In Akkod, during the attack, did you have feathers in your mind? Strange question, I know. Several people said they thought they saw fluffy white feathers everywhere, and those who were fighting thought for a few moments that their swords had turned into feathers.’

Irenya stared into her bowl of stew, barked a short laugh and slowly shook her head as if the image had amused her. ‘That is really weird, Leachim. And I’m enjoying this food. Which herbs have they used?’

But Leachim had turned away, distracted by the need of a guard with a sore hand. She hoped he would forget about swords and white feathers. Questions about her possible talents were best avoided.