two men nodded and the first said, ‘Thanks,’ and they were out of the door.
Hatu gave a wry chuckle. ‘You can be evil, anyone tell you?’
Hava gave a slight shrug. ‘You and Donte, regularly.’
Hatu felt a cold jolt in his stomach. ‘I do miss him.’
‘Me as well,’ agreed Hava. ‘Back to matters at hand. Those two are not very subtle.’
‘I don’t know. They may be playing dumb thinking we or someone else here may betray information.’
‘They were staring right at the man they seek.’
‘But either they don’t know that baby long ago was a boy, or they’re disguising …’ He waved away further speculation. ‘Here’s what I probably shouldn’t be telling you, but that second man, I saw him in Sandura when I travelled there with Bodai. He works for the Church of the One.’
Hava took a deep breath and said, ‘Should or shouldn’t tell me?’ She punched him in the arm. ‘If you knew he was with the Church, then of course he’s attempting to gull us. And his looking for a girl your age may be part of the act.’ She crossed her arms and bit her lower lip, a gesture Hatu had rarely seen, but he knew it meant she was concerned and concentrating. He knew to leave her alone.
Finally Hava uncrossed her arms and said, ‘Yes, you need to travel to Marquenet tomorrow. If Declan is reporting to the baron and Ratigan unloading his wagon, you should have time to send a message’ – she glanced around out of habit – ‘and pick up a few things to make it look as if all you did was shop.’
‘I’ll need a list.’
‘You shall have one,’ she replied.
‘I’ll first go to the Sign of the Gulls, and send that message.’ He shrugged. ‘If I am late returning to Declan and Ratigan, I can easily claim I haggled a lot, got turned around and got lost. It is my first visit; all we did was pass through, the last time.’
‘What about those two?’ She hiked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the two men who had left shortly before.
‘We wait, and maybe in a couple of hours one of us needs to do a bit of shopping and see if they’ve made an impression on any of the local shopkeepers.’
She gave a nod and said, ‘I’ll go and make a list.’
She went back to the kitchen, where they had a small table for doing ledgers and letter writing, which apparently Leon had rarely used. Hava had replaced the dried-out ink jar and purchased a metal-nib pen to replace a completely worn-out quill.
Hatu cleaned up a bit of imaginary dirt and returned to contemplating the mystery of these men and how they related to what he encountered in Sandura. One thing was clear to Hatu. It could be nothing good. And it was also clear to him that they were looking for him, the Firemane baby.
A sudden chill spread through the pit of his stomach as he reminded himself that most of his life he had been ignorant of his true identity. The anger in his childhood, the odd feelings that night in the Narrows when he’d sensed something of his unusual nature. That led him to reflect on the past, and he remembered Donte.
His memories of Donte showed no sign of departing. There were funny memories, like trying to steal sausages with a tree branch, and reassuring ones, like the many times when they were very young that Donte had chased off the bullies. But there were also the images of Donte hanging by chains in that crimson grotto. He desperately tried not to think of those, but he could not push them away. He took a deep breath, calming himself as he accepted that Donte’s loss would always haunt him. The best he could do was accept that and keep living.
EARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, HATU found himself leaving Beran’s Hill, with Declan driving the team of horses. When asked about this, Declan’s answer had been, ‘I can drive a team and Ratigan is short of drivers.’
Hatu was amused. ‘So he’s not hauling your and my freight, he’s renting you a wagon?’
That realization put Declan in a darker mood, for not only was Ratigan getting paid to deliver a load of weapons to the baron and bring back the wagon with whatever goods Hatu purchased, he didn’t have to drive it himself or pay a driver. Declan snapped back, ‘You’re paying the fee for the return trip.’
Hatu struggled not to laugh at that moment and changed the topic. ‘So, what do you think about those two men Molly and Hava saw on the road three days ago?’
‘I think I need to talk to the baron about it, or his man Balven. What do you think?’
Hatu shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to make of it. I mean, I understand why you’d warn the baron about armed men from some army skulking around but … I have no idea who they could be.’
‘You’ve travelled, seen things. You must have some thoughts,’ suggested Declan.
Hatu had ensured the two men under suspicion were still abed, their horses still over at Jacob’s barn before leaving, a sorrel gelding and an off-grey mare, according to Hava. Both men had returned in the evening after having spent a futile afternoon asking around the caravanserai about the red-headed children. Hatu had bid them both goodnight. Passing Jacob’s barn, he saw that both their horses were there, so Hatu knew they couldn’t reach Marquenet without passing Hatu and Declan’s wagon. To do so unseen would require a large looping course beyond farms on both sides of the baron’s road, so they could not reach the city before the wagon.
In reply, Hatu said, ‘They rode in from the east, and rumours claim Sandura is making trouble for everyone.’ He shrugged, then continued, ‘They were alone in a corner of the inn last night, and barely spoke to either Hava or me yesterday, other than ordering food and ale.’ He elected not to share the questions about red-headed youngsters passing through Beran’s Hill with fictitious parents. Declan apparently had enough cause to alert the baron to the strangers’ arrival in town without Hatu even remotely suggesting he might be part of their reason for being there. Others might bring it up should Declan speak to them of it, for if those two travellers were as indiscreet with others as they had been with Hatu and Hava, word would spread. It was also likely someone would bring up the rumours of the Firemane child.
Declan was by nature a man of few words, and Hatu had a tendency to guard his words, a trait drilled into him since childhood, so the two of them fell into a comfortable silence.
Hatu scanned the horizon as a matter of habit and was taken with the beauty of Marquensas, the rolling hills, distant orchards, and lush fields. The weather was kinder than any place he had visited before, warm and sunny with cooling breezes off the ocean in the late afternoon. If fate determined this would be his home from now on, he could embrace it with enthusiasm, he decided.
He glanced past Declan, then to the rear. Declan said, ‘Worried we’re being followed?’
Hatu feigned a dismissive chuckle. ‘Old habits are hard to break, I guess. Moving horses from market to market is risky.’ He fixed his eyes on the road ahead. Still, he could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.
* * *
A SMALL HUT STOOD AT the edge of a tiny clearing in the woods east of Beran’s Hill. It had once been occupied by charcoal burners but had long since been abandoned. Inside waited two figures crouching under heavy blankets, for they did not risk fires at night. A third figure had just dismounted a horse and entered the hut.
Catharian was wearing his disguise as a friar of the Order of Tathan, who had once been worshipped as a god, but was now regarded as a ‘prophesying divine spirit’ of the One. He looked at the young woman who sat across from her bodyguard and asked, ‘Anything?’
‘Just flickers,’ answered Sabella. ‘Even without training he’s managed to develop … a shielding of his presence. An instinct, perhaps.’ She sighed. ‘I only get a hint of him being in the town two, three times a day.’ With a shy smile, she added, ‘Mostly his guard lowers when he’s