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“That long?” She had calculated half the time.
“We start off fast, but then we slow down,” Brenn said. “From Kassel on it’s stop here, unload those crates, pack up new goods, restock the supplies. And we make an overnight stay in Strahlsende, because that’s one of the main stopovers.”
He went on to describe how Melnek’s fish traded for Kassel’s combed wool, which traded for lumber from Strahlsende’s forests, which in turn traded for rare furs trapped in the Gallenz Valley. He was describing the interior plains when Volker joined them. “You like traveling?” he asked Therez.
“Well enough.” She nibbled at her plate of roasted beef, which was salty and tough.
“Have some ale,” Volker said.
Mutely, she shook her head.
“Not fine enough for a lady’s maid?” Brenn said. He was smiling, but Therez stiffened.
“Don’t tease,” Volker said to his brother. “But speaking of fine … did you see the carnival girls?”
Brenn shrugged. “They look nice.”
“Not as pretty as Ilse,” Volker said. “But they promised to show me their magic tricks later.”
Brenn covered his laugh with a cough. He muttered something to Volker, who turned red. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It is.”
“Is not. That’s your blood talking.”
“Fah! Your blood you mean.”
They spent the rest of their break trading insults, until Brandt’s second, Niko, ordered them off to first watch. Therez finished her meal slowly, picking at the meat. She knew what Brenn meant by blood. Desire. Galt had desired her. The memory of his proximity made her cheeks turn hot. Other memories—how his mouth thinned when she danced with Mann, his cool precise voice as he spoke about perfection in art—drove the blood away. She shivered and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw one of the horse boys, just glancing away.
That night she slept under her wagon, with her knapsack as her pillow, wrapped in all her blankets. The ground felt cold and hard, and a trace of frost sharpened the air. Gazing between the wagon spokes, she counted the stars glittering in the night sky—the Crone’s Eye, Toc the Hunter, Lir’s Necklace. A milky expanse overspread the western horizon.
The old tales spoke of a dark void, filled with stars, which lay between this world of flesh and the magical plane called Anderswar. Except the stars were the souls of the dead, launched in flight to their next lives. It was part of what linked each soul to Toc, who had himself died and was reborn. And what links us to Lir, Therez thought. She who grieved through the winter, thinking that her brother-lover was no more.
Were they grieving for her at home? Was her grandmother already part of that cloud?
I had no choice, she told herself. If I had stayed, I would be in Theodr Galt’s house even now. I would not see my mother and grandmother again, except for rare visits. Because a collector does not like to lend his possessions to others.
Even so, tears burned her eyes. Do not think about home or family, she told herself. Think about Brenn and Volker and the tumbler girls. Think about tomorrow and the next day, with a new life and a new name. I’m not Therez any longer. I am Ilse. I can write my own future.
* * *
DAWN CAME EARLY, announced with the rattle and crash of pans, and a steady monologue from the cook as he cursed his boys, the crew, and the uncooperative firewood. Therez sat up stiffly and rubbed her eyes. The sky was muddy gray, streaked with red from the still invisible sun. A large fire in the middle of the clearing sent up plumes of smoke and cinders. Scents of coffee and grilled meat filled the air.
Therez rubbed her scalp and briefly wished for a hot bath. What she got instead was a curt order from Brandt’s second to hurry with her breakfast or she’d get left behind.
Niko went off to rouse the other passengers. Therez joined the line for the latrines, and then to the stream, well opposite, where she made do with washing her face and hands in cold water. Her clothes already looked filthy. She brushed away the dirt, scrubbing out the worst stains, and finally gave up. Still shivering from the water, she untangled her braid with her fingers, shook out the dust, and rebraided it. No comb. No washcloth. What else had she forgotten?
Breakfast consisted of bread and grilled beef, with coffee to wash it down. Scolding her and all the other passengers, Ulf retrieved the mugs and plates and set his boys to washing, while he repacked his gear. By this hour, the caravan looked nearly ready to depart. The caravan master was making the rounds, barking out orders to hitch up those horses, fill in the latrine, move faster or he’d dock their wages. His gaze passed over Therez, before he stalked on to the next hapless member of his crew.
When Niko passed by again, Therez lifted a hand to catch his attention. “Excuse me.”
He swung around. “What, girl?”
“Do we have time for …?”
She meant to say for bathing, but Niko interrupted with a yelp of laughter. “Sure we have time, girl. Piss quick, or you get buried in the latrines.”
He strode away, leaving Therez flushed and stammering. Three of the crew grinned at her. Her cheeks burning, Therez caught up her bag and jogged back to the stream. A glance showed her that she was alone. She pulled off her tunic, unbuttoned her shirt partway, and splashed water over her face and neck and body. The cold water brought goose bumps to her skin. She gritted her teeth and scrubbed fast, hoping to finish before someone came by.
