Brian Rathbone - Inherited Danger

"You are your father's daughter, of that there can be no doubt," he said, shaking his head.

"He was in so much pain because of the crier's lies. I couldn't let him believe his sons were all dead at my hand when they most likely live; it would've been too cruel."

Benjin didn't harass her any further about it, and they rode in silence for a while, heading on a westerly course.

"Do you think we should make for Adderhold?" she asked, if for no other reason than to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I suppose we haven't much choice. There's little chance of us getting anywhere near the statue while it's being transported, though I'm not sure we have any chance of getting near it when it arrives at Adderhold either. We'd have to pass through lands held by your family and those held by their rivals, the Kytes. A more dangerous path I cannot imagine. Do you know what you will do when we get there?"

"I have no idea, but I must try. It would be cowardly of me to turn my back on these people. The people of the Greatland would pay the greatest price for the Zjhon's folly, and I cannot allow that to happen. I just hope we're right about the true nature of the statue. I can find no way to prove our beliefs or disprove the beliefs of the Zjhon. I suppose I'll have to act on faith alone."

"Blind faith," Benjin said.

"Blind faith, indeed," Catrin said. She hoped some other solution or some bit of proof that would allow her to believe more firmly would present itself, but none came.

Following a narrow cart path, they passed local farmers on their way. Folks waved as they passed, and they returned the waves, trying to appear as if they belonged there. Benjin urged Curly to pick up the pace. Curly would have none of it, though, and set his own pace, despite Benjin's clucks, chirps, and more than a few smacks on the rear with the lines.

As night fell, they entered more heavily settled lands, and the lights of a distant town shone on the horizon. Reflections of the lights could be seen in the wide river that lay on the far side of town. A copse of oak and elm stood on a nearby hill, and Benjin steered Curly toward it as best he could. Curly resisted his direction, and they nearly rode past the trees, but Benjin managed to get him stopped. At the bottom of the hill, Benjin handed Catrin the lines and climbed from the cart. After retrieving an ear of corn, he lured Curly into the trees.

Curly chewed noisily on the corn while Benjin tied him off to a tree. Once Curly was unhooked and taken care of, they set up a small camp and ate sparingly from their provisions. They lit no fire, for fear of drawing attention to themselves, and they spent a long night huddled together for warmth.

The following day was bright and clear, and the morning sun warmed the air enough that they could no longer see their own breath before them. The road into town was congested with wagons, carts, and hundreds on foot. Catrin and Benjin blended into the crowd as best they could and eventually made their way into town. The streets were jammed with pedestrians and roaming vendors. Curly was ill suited for such tight quarters. He stepped on toes and knocked over vendors' carts, leaving behind a trail of angry people wherever they went. Benjin sought out the market proper and spotted a man selling livestock.

"It'd be nice to ride all the way to Adderhold, but I think we should sell Curly while we can. Major bridges in the Greatland bear a toll, and we'll need coin to cross," he said.

Catrin didn't like the idea one bit, but she could think of no other way to get coin short of stealing, which she was unwilling to do. They approached the livestock vendor, and he appraised them as they moved closer. Catrin suspected he saw an easy profit as he moved into the crowd to great them.

"That beast has lived beyond its years, Yusef would say," he said, shaking his head. "Not fit for plow or plate. Don't think he can use that one. No, Yusef doesn't."

"These days there's little to be had," Benjin replied. "Most would be glad to have such a fine beast. P'haps there're others here who'd be more interested," he said, casting his gaze around the market. Catrin searched for other vendors selling livestock, and while she saw a few goats and a handful of chickens, no one else had large animals for sale.

"Try if you'd like, but anyone here'll tell you that Yusef is the man t'see," the vendor said as he spread his arms wide and bowed deeply.

"And what would Yusef offer for this fine beast and cart?"

"Yusef has no need for the cart, but he supposes he could dispose of it without a great deal of trouble. Yusef offers a silver."

"Good luck to you, Yusef," Benjin said, and he chirped to Curly, who completely ignored him.

"Don't be hasty now. A silver for a beast that appears to be deaf as well as blind is a fair offer, but Yusef is a generous man. A silver and two coppers."

"Three silvers."

"Three silvers! Why that's robbery, friend. Surely, Yusef deserves to eat. Two silvers."

"Three," Benjin said, and Yusef appeared wounded by his firm stance. He made no counteroffer; instead he just shook his head as if in deep thought. "Perhaps now is not the time to sell," Benjin continued. "Prices will only go higher as the pilgrimage begins, and we've nothing but time. Perhaps the traders in the next town will be more generous."

"Thieves, they are. Why, you would have to travel all the way to Adderhold to find a better offer, and even then you take your chances. You seem like good people, and Yusef has a soft place in his heart, he does. Three silvers."

Benjin climbed from the cart and shook his hand. "Deal."

As soon as the coins were in Benjin's hands, Yusef seemed to forget that he and Catrin existed, and he began hawking Curly as if he were a prize bull. "Who will give me five silvers for this fine beast? Full of vigor, he is, and Yusef'll even throw in this finely crafted cart," he shouted into the crowd even as they unloaded their packs.

While Catrin stuffed the blankets from the seat into her pack, the wind blew the hood away from her face, and she hastily pulled it back up. She and Benjin shuffled through the crowd, and Benjin continued to affect his limp and lean on the staff. It did him little good in the jostling crowd, and they were nearly knocked off their feet several times within the sea of people. The lack of respect these folks showed one another was remarkable. It was as if they were so great in number that none of them mattered as individuals. Each person was just another body congesting the streets.

A long line snaked away from the base of the bridge, and a dozen guards stood at the height of the span, holding up the mass of people crossing. Fear gripped Catrin at the sight of them, and she cast Benjin a furtive glance, but he seemed unconcerned.

"Toll collectors," he said, and his statement was confirmed as she watched the soldiers accept coins from each person who passed. They waited as patiently as they could in the line, but it moved dreadfully slowly, and Catrin began to see the wisdom in Benjin's decision to sell Curly. It would have been difficult to maneuver him through the crowd, not to mention the coin they needed to pay the toll.

When they reached the highest part of the span, they were packed tightly against the other people waiting to cross. The stone beneath Catrin's feet seemed to move from side to side, and she feared the bridge would collapse from the weight of so many people. Her feet sore from standing so long, she shifted from one to the other to ease the pain, but it provided only a small amount of relief.

The line continued to move inexorably forward, and the scrutiny of the guards drew ever closer. Catrin felt trapped. If the guards somehow realized who she was, she would have no way to escape. The crowd packed tightly on all sides, and panic threatened to relieve her of her sanity.