agree,” said Zangi-Ragozh, and fell silent while the ferry continued on across the river. By the time the ramp was let down, he was dizzy and did not trust himself to mount his mare until his company was some little distance from the river. Walking the half-li restored him somewhat, so that he was able to vault into the saddle with the appearance of his habitual ease.
Ro-shei, who had been walking beside him, also got onto his chestnut, remarking as he did, “I believe we can reach Tai-Sho by nightfall, if the weather remains clear.”
“Tai-Sho is a reasonable distance,” Zangi-Ragozh agreed. “Just over four li, as I understand.”
“That is about right,” said Gien.
“Then if we keep up a good pace, we should arrive shortly before sundown.” Zangi-Ragozh had raised his voice so that Yao and Jong could hear him clearly.
“Yes,” said Yao. “If the road is clear and there are no other delays.” He paused. “They say there are robbers in the woods hereabouts.”
“Then we will have to be careful going through them,” said Zangi-Ragozh, and patted the curved Persian sword that hung from the pommel of his saddle. “Get the weapons out of the wagon and make sure you all have a sword and a dagger.”
“I’ll tend to that,” Ro-shei offered.
“Thank you, old friend,” said Zangi-Ragozh as he took his place ahead of the two wagons and the spare horses. He made a point of sitting very straight and being as alert as he possibly could, for it would not be provident to appear truly weakened by the river crossing. He shaded his eyes with his hand and put his mare into a jog-trot.
“The swords and daggers are distributed,” said Ro-shei a bit later as he rode up next to Zangi-Ragozh.
“Excellent,” Zangi-Ragozh approved, and settled into the routine of travel, keeping a wary eye out for marauders and other possible outlaws as he led the company through an arm of the forest. “How broad are these woods?” he called back to his companions.
“Almost a li,” said Gien. “We should pass through them while the sun is still high.”
“Prudent,” said Zangi-Ragozh.
When they forded a stream, a while later, they paused to water the horses and to change teams and mounts.
“Does this water bother you?” Yao asked Zangi-Ragozh as he tightened the girth.
“Yes, it does. Not as much as the river did, or the ocean would do, but it makes me uncomfortable,” Zangi-Ragozh admitted, patting Flying Cloud before he vaulted into the saddle; he had already secured Shooting Star’s lead to the rear of the larger wagon, and so was impatient to be off.
Jong was still buckling on the harness of his second team, his face mottled and his breathing strained. He started to apologize, but broke off in a rattle of tight coughing. He clung to the neck of the nearest horse and tried to bring his spasm under control.
Zangi-Ragozh swung off his gelding and thrust the reins at Gien. “Tie him to the wagon with a lead,” he ordered as he went to assist Jong to get into the wagon. “You should lie down and keep warm.”
“I will be all right,” Jong insisted even as Zangi-Ragozh lifted him with amazing ease onto the narrow cot behind the driving-box.
“As soon as you have had a chance to recover, no doubt you are right,” said Zangi-Ragozh as he took Jong’s place on the box. “Gien, make sure the harness is properly buckled. Ro-shei, if you will lead us?” He waited until Gien gave him a nod, then he signaled the team to set off.
“You should not be driving a wagon,” Yao protested.
“Do you fear I cannot do it?” Zangi-Ragozh inquired. “For I assure you, I can.”
Yao looked confused. “Nothing like that. It is just that a man of your position should not drive a wagon. Have Ro-shei do it.”
“I think not,” said Zangi-Ragozh. “If Jong should become worse, I want to be able to attend to him without delay, which I can do if I am able to watch him. Driving allows me to do this.”
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