Thick as Thieves Page 19

I sucked on the sore spot as I skittered down the last part of the path and picked my way through the rubble at the bottom. The boulders there were huge, higher than my head, and rested on mounds of smaller rocks that they had dragged down with them when they pulled loose from the cliff face. Once I reached the open space beyond the rocks, I waited for the others. They were slow.

All four of them crabbed along the cliff, holding on with both hands. Even nearly empty, the packs they carried threatened to overbalance everyone but Pol. He and the magus kept stopping to look over their shoulders at me. I looked over my own shoulder and almost went to sit in the shade of the olive trees, but the magus had been more civil than usual, and I wanted to keep him in a good mood. So I waited in the sunlight where he could see me. It was a hot day already, and the sweat trickled down the side of my face.

When everyone else had made it safely down, we moved into the shade and sat down to rest. It was dark under the olives, and cool. The trees were so old and twisted and their leaves grew so thickly that they allowed very little light to reach the ground. Instead of juniper and sage growing underneath them, there was almost nothing, some thin grass, a very few spindly bushes.

“I am going to walk into town to buy horses and lunch,” said the magus as he stood up and dusted himself off. “It will take me almost an hour to walk there and back, in addition to the time it takes to buy the horses and provisions. We’re still a day behind schedule, so we’ll have to eat while we go.” He disappeared between the olive trees.

Pol turned where he sat and opened the pack he’d been leaning against. “No need to waste the time we have,” he said, and pulled two wooden swords out of the pockets sewn to the outside. He handed one to Sophos and one to Ambiades, and they began their fencing lesson. I remembered the scene that I had watched from the window of the mountain hut, and I supposed that it had not been a dream after all.

“Swords up,” said Pol, and they began drills with which they were obviously familiar. Once they had bent and twisted for a while and their muscles were prepared, Pol matched Ambiades and Sophos against each other. They sparred carefully, and I watched with interest. Ambiades was by far the better swordsman, but then he was four or five years older. Sophos was just learning the motions, but he showed some talent and coordination. With a good instructor, he’d be a dangerous opponent. For now he was too short and too unfamiliar with his weapon to do anything except wave it around and hope it connected. At critical moments he occasionally closed his eyes. When Ambiades leaned in over his guard and whacked him on the head, I winced.

“Are you all right?” Ambiades dropped his sword, looking concerned. “I thought that you would block that.” He put his hand up to rub Sophos’s head, but Pol pushed him back.

“He should have. Try it again.” He made Ambiades repeat the move over and over until Sophos worked out for himself a block that would come naturally. Sophos got banged twice more on the head, although Ambiades only hit him lightly. He apologized each time, and I began to think that under the pride and prickles there might be a reason to like him. Finally, when Ambiades rode over the top of Sophos’s guard for the seventh or eighth time, Sophos stepped to one side and blocked the attack from there.

“Good enough,” said Pol, high praise indeed, and ended the lesson. Sophos and Ambiades threw themselves down in the grass, panting while Pol put their wooden swords away. I checked to see that there were pockets sewn to each of their packs, and the magus’s as well. It explained why they hadn’t taken the packs off and tossed them down the cliff before climbing down themselves. Nobody wants his valuable short sword dropped onto a pile of rocks. I was reassured to know that we hadn’t come into the wilderness armed only with Pol’s sword, but I wondered what the Uselesses, elder and younger, would do with theirs if we ever got into a fight. I also wondered if hidden in Pol’s pack or the magus’s was a gun. Acting on the king’s business, they were entitled to carry one, at least in Sounis. Guns weren’t as accurate as crossbows, but they were less awkward to transport, and to have one would have been a comfort.

When the swords were back in their packs, Pol settled down on the grass himself and looked expectantly at Sophos.

“Don’t match your weakness against your opponent’s strength?” Sophos said hesitantly.

“And your weakness is?”

“My height?”

“And Ambiades’s strength is?”

“Years of fencing lessons,” I said under my breath, but no one heard me.

Sophos gave the correct answer. “His height.”

“Remember that.”

Then he praised Ambiades mildly and offered him a few tips. He and Ambiades talked like men for a few minutes about sword fighting. Pol clearly respected the things Ambiades had to say, and Ambiades looked pleased and content. I almost liked him myself.

We still had time to wait for the magus, so I lay down on the soft dirt under an olive tree and closed my eyes. When the magus arrived, we were all, except Pol, sleeping. I woke when I heard the horses thumping toward us but didn’t move. It was pleasant to lie and look up at the twisted branches and tightly packed leaves of the olive trees. The dirt under my fingertips was powder soft. There was a breeze that moved the smallest branches, and the tiny bits of sky that showed through were white in the midday heat. Flies buzzed around my head. The only other sound was that of the horses’ hooves getting closer. It didn’t occur to me until the last minute that it might be a stranger and not the magus at all. I nearly jumped out of my skin, but there had been no need to worry.

“Glad to see someone is alert, if a little bit late,” said the magus as he walked between the trees. Ambiades and Sophos scrambled up and took the horses, while the magus talked to Pol.

“I think we’ll ride down to the road and follow it. We won’t reach Profactia until nightfall, and we can cut around it through the trees. There’s a moon tonight, and we should be able to stay on the road until quite late. We’ll make up some of the time we’ve lost.”

Pol nodded and got up. He helped the Uselesses pack the provisions the magus had brought into the saddlebags. Then we all mounted up and rode slowly between the trees while we ate fresh bread and cheese and more olives. We kept having to lean close to our horses’ necks as they walked under branches without caring whether their riders would fit under the branches as well. Donkeys would not have been so tedious. Donkeys, however, would have been left behind once we reached the road.

We moved quickly. I was still hungry but quit eating. It was too much bother to go on holding the horse with one hand while eating with the other. With Pol on one side of me and Ambiades on the other, I bounced up the road until I got used to the feeling. The magus had cautioned Ambiades and Sophos to keep their mouths shut when we were within earshot of other travelers, as their accents would mark them as members of Sounis’s upper class.

“You don’t need to worry, Gen,” he said to me, teasing again.

“Really?”

“Attolian gutter is indistinguishable from Sounisian gutter,” he said, and I laughed with the others. I was very content with my slang and my half-swallowed words.

When we were alone on the road, walking the horses for a while to rest them, Sophos asked what would happen if anyone guessed we were not from Attolia.