Luck of the Wheels. Megan Lindholm

      A whimper came into Goat’s voice. ‘But I thought I was helping. It saved your life, you know that. Those Brurjans were about to make porridge of Vandien.’

      Ki felt no mercy for him. ‘You know that, do you?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘You know so much of Brurjans, do you? I’d have said they were just about to ask us for a bribe.’

      ‘And you’d have been wrong!’ Goat broke in suddenly. There was no whimper to his voice now, only a boy’s wild anger. ‘Allikata had decided it would be interesting to break Vandien up slowly, to see how much pain he could take. And one of the Humans, it was his turn to be first at the women, and he was wondering if you’d fight or weep.’

      There was a savage satisfaction in his voice that chilled Ki. Against her will she turned to meet his pale eyes, more yellow than brown. She did not like to admit her disgust was tinged with fear.

      ‘Believe your own wild stories if you like,’ she began in a shaky voice.

      ‘I believe what I know, and I know more than you like. More than anyone likes, and so they hate me. Would you like to hate me more? Then I’ll warn you that it isn’t wise to leave Vandien and Willow alone in the wagon together. Not when she is wondering if he would protect her if the Brurjans came again, and he is wondering if he is as old as he feels. Young enough to worry over foolish things … isn’t that what you told him?’

      For an instant Ki was confused. Then a killing fury gripped her. So the boy had been awake last night, and listening to them. Blood suffused her face suddenly. And watching them, too? The team tossed their heads, baffled by the trembling that came down the reins to them. She would not strike him. She would force herself to remember that he was only a boy. But …

      ‘If ever …’ Anger made her voice crack. ‘If ever you spy upon us like that again, I shall …’

      ‘Shall what?’ Gotheris demanded spitefully. He stared at her. ‘What can you do to me? You already hate me. Every time you think of me, you are filled with annoyance and irritation. But you’ll keep your contract, you’ll take me safely to Villena. No matter how horrid I am, you’ll give me to my uncle. No matter how nice I am, either.’

      A different note entered the boy’s voice on his final words. For a long time Ki drove in silence. There were more trees now, in scattered groves set back from the road. Perhaps the remains of failed farming efforts. When she trusted herself to speak, she said, ‘I don’t think I hate you, Gotheris. Much of what you do makes me angry, but … what’s that?’

      ‘That’ was something in the distance, a scatter of objects beside and upon the road. They moved erratically. Ki settled back on the seat. ‘Looks like someone’s herd of swine loose in the road. Rolling in the dust.’

      ‘Close enough,’ Gotheris observed heartlessly. ‘Tamshin.’

      At his words Ki stood, to peer ahead, and then startled the team with a cry. She slapped the reins on the grey backs, and the horses broke into a ponderous trot and then a heavy canter. She drove them standing, swaying with their rhythm. The entry to the caravan slid open behind her. Willow peered out. ‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded. Ki didn’t answer. The road stretched ever longer before her, making it seem as though she would never arrive.

      When she did get there, she was too late. She pulled the team in to keep them from trampling the first of the bodies. From the way they lay, it was apparent the Tamshin had been moving when the rousters caught up with them. These were the stragglers, who had fallen as they fled, the first victims of the scarlet hooves and blades.

      Ki stood frozen, staring down at them. Too vivid were the memories they stirred, of other bodies on a dusty road, of a man and two children she had called hers. Behind her she heard Willow’s rising pants, the beginning of hysteria. Beside her, Goat stirred restively and complained, ‘I smell shit.’

      ‘Shut up.’ Ki’s voice was dispassionate. ‘Willow. Close the door. And don’t waken Vandien. He doesn’t need this.’

      She booted the brake on, wrapped the reins about its handle. Slowly she dismounted and walked over to the first body. The bloodstains on the pale robe were already turning brown in the heat of the sun. There was no need to check for signs of life. Flies buzzed angrily as she turned the body over. She refused to look into the face. With averted eyes, she lifted the shoulders and dragged the body from the road some little distance to the paltry shade of a dying oak. Beyond it was a scorched area where long ago a house might once have stood. She was too heartsick to be curious about it. Slowly she walked back to the road, went to the next body. A child. Unmindful of the blood and feces that fouled his little body, she picked him up and carried him to place him by the other. Goat watched her avidly from the wagon, silent but absorbed in her actions. She paid no attention to him.

      She had moved the wagon forward and started to lift the shoulders of a third corpse when the woman came to meet her. She was Tamshin, tall and willowy, but the grace was gone from her movements. Her face was bruised to blackness, and blood had clotted in her long hair. Her thick accent and swollen lips made her hard to understand.