in tousled spikes. Ear-hoops glinted. In the onset of the storm she had not had time to grab her scroll-case and other courier accoutrements; she wore a mud-caked, indigo-dyed homespun tunic belted at the waist, and baggy trews, gaitered in cross-gartered leather from knee to ankle over her boots. Her face bore the remnants of mud, dust, and grime, smeared by the applications of tunic sleeve and the back of her hand.
“What?” she asked, pale brows arching up beneath his steady gaze.
Brodhi hitched a shoulder in a slight, elegant shrug. “You came to
me
.”
She frowned a little, eyeing the deer. A doe, young and small. “I don’t think that’s enough to feed the survivors.”
“No,” Brodhi agreed, pulling and cutting steadily, “but then none of us has any idea of how many survivors there are.”
“We should take a head count,” Bethid murmured absently, thoughts clearly active. “We need to gather everyone, find out who is injured. There are wagons in the grove across the settlement; we can gather there.The trees will provide a little shelter, even if most of them lack leaves.” She scratched at her neck, wincing as her fingernails found a welt. “So cursed much to do …”
“And you have decided this is your responsibility?”
She scowled at him. “This is everyone’s responsibility. Even yours.”
Brodhi indicated the half-skinned deer, making it obvious that he had contributed. “In the meantime, at your gathering divide the people into groups. Give them tasks. Some to assemble the dead. Some to bring water from the river. Some to fish. We’ll need cookfires, if sufficient kindling can be found—”
“And will you bleed all over each pile of wood to set it afire? The wood’s still damp, Brodhi.”
His smile was slight. “Do we want people still in shock to witness such a thing? I think not. But then, you have a fire already, outside the hand-reader’s wagon. It only requires one; others may be lighted from it.”
Bethid nodded, gesturing the suggestion aside. “Yes, so it does. Well enough. But there’s something more. Something you can do that might keep us safe. Something to buy us time to build again, so we’ve shelter when the rains come.” She wiped the back of her right forearm across her forehead. “As a courier, it’s your duty to advise the Hecari warlord of what’s happened.”
He stopped the skinning process to turn to her, to give her all his wary attention. “
A
courier’s duty, yes.”
“Yours,” she said steadily. “Ride to Cardatha, Brodhi. Do that duty and tell the warlord what happened here. Tell him all about Alisanos, about all of its horrors—and how it moved. How it swallowed mile upon mile. How it destroyed settlements, took over roads, killed many, many people. Tell him this area is dangerous to all, even to Hecari warriors. That old roads no longer exist. That no man, coming near, can escape the deepwood. I can’t go; he won’t listen to a woman. Timmon and Alorn haven’t your edge, your arrogance. Make the warlord
believe
, Brodhi. Make him understand that nothing remains … nothing worth his attention. You’ve scouted it, you see. You know what remains, and what lies now in Alisanos.” She grimaced. “And for all we know, it may be exactly as I have described.”
As he listened to her words, he realized precisely where she was heading. By the time she finished, he was nodding.
Her eyebrows quirked slightly. “I may be
only
a human, as you are constantly reminding me, but yes, I can think now and again.”
He studied her a moment. This was the Bethid who’d come to the Guildhall in Cardatha years before, determined to take the trials to become a courier. She knew what she proposed was unlikely to be accepted. The courier service traditionally was made up of men. Other girls, he knew, had grown up wishing to become couriers. Other girls had even come to the Guildhall. But
“What?” she asked, pale brows arching up beneath his steady gaze.
Brodhi hitched a shoulder in a slight, elegant shrug. “You came to
me
.”
She frowned a little, eyeing the deer. A doe, young and small. “I don’t think that’s enough to feed the survivors.”
“No,” Brodhi agreed, pulling and cutting steadily, “but then none of us has any idea of how many survivors there are.”
“We should take a head count,” Bethid murmured absently, thoughts clearly active. “We need to gather everyone, find out who is injured. There are wagons in the grove across the settlement; we can gather there.The trees will provide a little shelter, even if most of them lack leaves.” She scratched at her neck, wincing as her fingernails found a welt. “So cursed much to do …”
“And you have decided this is your responsibility?”
She scowled at him. “This is everyone’s responsibility. Even yours.”
Brodhi indicated the half-skinned deer, making it obvious that he had contributed. “In the meantime, at your gathering divide the people into groups. Give them tasks. Some to assemble the dead. Some to bring water from the river. Some to fish. We’ll need cookfires, if sufficient kindling can be found—”
“And will you bleed all over each pile of wood to set it afire? The wood’s still damp, Brodhi.”
His smile was slight. “Do we want people still in shock to witness such a thing? I think not. But then, you have a fire already, outside the hand-reader’s wagon. It only requires one; others may be lighted from it.”
Bethid nodded, gesturing the suggestion aside. “Yes, so it does. Well enough. But there’s something more. Something you can do that might keep us safe. Something to buy us time to build again, so we’ve shelter when the rains come.” She wiped the back of her right forearm across her forehead. “As a courier, it’s your duty to advise the Hecari warlord of what’s happened.”
He stopped the skinning process to turn to her, to give her all his wary attention. “
A
courier’s duty, yes.”
“Yours,” she said steadily. “Ride to Cardatha, Brodhi. Do that duty and tell the warlord what happened here. Tell him all about Alisanos, about all of its horrors—and how it moved. How it swallowed mile upon mile. How it destroyed settlements, took over roads, killed many, many people. Tell him this area is dangerous to all, even to Hecari warriors. That old roads no longer exist. That no man, coming near, can escape the deepwood. I can’t go; he won’t listen to a woman. Timmon and Alorn haven’t your edge, your arrogance. Make the warlord
believe
, Brodhi. Make him understand that nothing remains … nothing worth his attention. You’ve scouted it, you see. You know what remains, and what lies now in Alisanos.” She grimaced. “And for all we know, it may be exactly as I have described.”
As he listened to her words, he realized precisely where she was heading. By the time she finished, he was nodding.
Her eyebrows quirked slightly. “I may be
only
a human, as you are constantly reminding me, but yes, I can think now and again.”
He studied her a moment. This was the Bethid who’d come to the Guildhall in Cardatha years before, determined to take the trials to become a courier. She knew what she proposed was unlikely to be accepted. The courier service traditionally was made up of men. Other girls, he knew, had grown up wishing to become couriers. Other girls had even come to the Guildhall. But
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