Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,47
the steps, leading them up toward the bridge. Emilie felt depressed; if Yesa was willing to take them there, then there couldn't be anything that shocking to see.
The bridge led them over more courts filled with flowers, to a gallery that provided another view of the city. Miss Marlende let Yesa give them the tourist's tour for a time, making polite interested comments as Yesa pointed out views, public buildings, the major waterways. Emilie didn't have to pretend to polite interest; everything was new, strange, and fascinating.
Then, as they were walking over a bridge, Miss Marlende said thoughtfully, “The Queen told us about the problems with the nomads. How long has that been going on?”
“As long as I can remember,” Yesa said. “We are told that they were from one of the outer kingdoms, to the darkward side of the Empire. That when the old wars started and the Empire fell, the central Sealands lost touch with many of the far flung territories. When embassies were sent many years later, they found only empty cities, abandoned.”
Miss Marlende said, “We saw one of those, to the...antidarkward, where we entered this world.”
Yesa nodded. “Just so. We think the nomads are the survivors of those cities, forced to leave to find better fishing grounds.”
“Did they find them?” Emilie asked, shading her eyes to look out over the view. There was a plaza just visible that seemed to be a market, with all the goods displayed in the vendors' boats.
“Yes. It was only fishing grounds around the cities that had begun to fail, which is one of the things that caused the wars. There were plenty of others among the archipelagos, and islands to farm.”
“So why do they steal, then?” Emilie turned back to Yesa. “If they like moving around, they should have more food than they know what to do with.”
“I don't know,” Yesa said. It was hard to tell through the translation, but she sounded a little troubled. “It is one of the frightening things about them, that we don't know why they do such things.”
Miss Marlende was frowning in thought. “Have you ever known anyone who was kidnapped - stolen - by them? Or seen a farm or a fishing area that was raided?”
“I've seen places that were raided, within the past season. It has been getting worse. I don't know anyone who was stolen…” Yesa made a little throwing away gesture, which Emilie thought might be something to avert bad luck, like knocking on wood. “But I have seen the empty settlements in the darkward shallows and the archipelago.” She looked at Miss Marlende, her delicate brows arched. “Did you doubt that the stories about the nomads were true?”
“I'm sorry, but yes,” Miss Marlende admitted. “We're strangers here, and we know nothing about this situation.”
“I understand. I will say: I do not like this plan of going to fight the nomads.” Yesa turned back, heading out of the bright sunlight into the shaded gallery behind them. “I will take you back through this part of the palace.”
They passed inside, into a wide passage, and Emilie blinked, temporarily blinded by the transition from sunlight to interior shadow. Yesa turned left abruptly, through a small grotto room with an elaborate stone waterfall, surrounded by deep-blue flowering plants. Emilie stopped, waiting for her eyes to adjust, wanting a better look at it.
Miss Marlende and Yesa passed into the next room. Suddenly Miss Marlende shouted a warning. Startled, Emilie stared. There were three men in the next room, human men, two Northern Menaen and one Southern. For an instant she tried to recognize them as crew members from the Sovereign. Then she saw the blue uniforms, that these men were rougher, unshaven. Like the men who had attacked the Sovereign when it was docked at Meneport. Lord Ivers' men. Emilie moved forward, her first impulse to help Miss Marlende. But one of the men grabbed Miss Marlende's arm and yanked her out of sight, and the other two started forward. Get help, Emilie thought wildly, and whirled around and bolted.
Right into the two men coming out of the passage behind her. She bounced off one's chest and he grabbed her arms. Emilie struggled furiously, kicked him, bit at his hands, but the other one forced a sack over her head. Then the first one flipped her upside down, trapping her arms in the sack and making her head swim.
Distantly, muffled by the heavy coarse material, she heard Yesa say, “I don't like the plan.