The question annoyed Talen. “It feels fine,” he said. Then he realized it felt more than fine. His whole body felt rested and fresh, like he’d just woken up from a long and lovely sleep.
“Good,” said Da. “A little more patience, son. And we’ll have our chat. You’re almost ready.”
“You talk as if you’re waiting for a loaf of dough to rise before you put it in the oven.”
“That’s not a bad analogy.”
What in the Six was he talking about? “I don’t know that I want to be a loaf of bread.”
“I don’t know that I want to wait for my father,” said Nettle. “I’d like to get it straight from you, Uncle.”
“We’ll see,” said Da. “But Master Farkin’s news has changed things a bit. I don’t want you to wait for me. You must not. Deliver the goods we have left and take a message back to River. Tell her the news of the Envoy. Then tell her to prepare the garden for a frost.”
“But we’re weeks away from a turn in the seasons.”
“You want to be trusted?” asked Da. “Then do this thing.”
The way Da said that made Talen think there was more to the message than he supposed. “I’ll take it.”
“Tell her not to delay,” said Da. They threaded their way through the street up to the fortress. At one point, Talen heard a woman singing to the sound of a lyre and found the sound was coming from an open window one level up on the other side of the street. He was at such an angle that he could see in the window. It wasn’t a woman at all, but a girl. A tall Mokaddian girl who watched him as she sang.
When they came to the intersection that ended the street they’d been traveling and started the one to the fortress, Da stopped the wagon. He reached under the seat and retrieved the Hog, then opened his purse and gave Talen a number of coins.
“Do not wait for me. They might keep me for an hour or seven. So get the supplies and make the visit to the widow Lees. Now tell me the list.”
Talen recited all the things they needed. When he finished, Da said, “Don’t pay the smith one grain more than fifteen measures for the maul.”
Talen didn’t know how they’d fare without one of them wearing the token of the Council. “Are you sure you don’t want us to wait?”
“You’ll be all right,” said Da. “You’ve got Nettle with you.” Then he handed Talen five more coppers. “Purchase some honey; we’ll let your sister eat her own poison.”
“I’m just thinking that it’s not safe for you to travel back through the wood at night,” said Talen.
“I’ll be fine,” said Da. “Finish your business and go directly home. Remember, not everyone here is like the guard at the gate.” Then he put the Hog over one shoulder and walked up the road to the fortress.
Talen took the reins. That was all fine for Da to say, him and his Hog and the Council’s sash about his chest. But Talen had nothing more than a whittling knife. Then Talen realized that maybe Da was trying to tell him that he trusted him. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more sure he was of Da’s intentions. Talen appreciated the thought, but Da could have chosen a better time to make his point.
Talen looked up at the sun. It was past noon. He would have to hurry to make it home before nightfall. And if he didn’t?
Well, he would. So he didn’t need the answer to that question.
SNAKE GAMES
A
s Talen drove the wagon, watching the faces of those they passed, he became sure of this fact: sooner or later some overvigilant Mokaddian would see Talen and decide he didn’t belong in this city. Someone would decide he needed to be taught a lesson. It was common for such lessons to be delivered in the form of a thrown object—rotten food, dog turds, the ever-handy rock. But Talen didn’t think he’d get off so easy this time. So he watched where he drove the wagon, but he kept his attention on the corners of streets, on odd windows, and sudden intersections.
Having Nettle along should dissuade some from molesting him. But while there were many even-headed Mokaddians like Master Farkin, there were others who were not.
He stopped at two houses to purchase harness rings and forty feet of tight hemp rope, keeping an eye