his purse, removed all the silver mares from the pile of smaller coins, and put them in his pocket. There weren’t many, he was sorry to see. The brass went into the bag, and Kavi shook it down to the bottom.
“Hmm.” He made the hole a bit bigger, and several coins fell out. “I suppose that’s as close as it’s going to get.”
“You really think that will pull Hrum sentries out of position?” the farmer asked skeptically. “They’d get in more trouble than any brass is worth, if they were caught.”
“Which is why they’ll never be admitting it happened,” Kavi replied, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. “The Hrum are human, and there’s no man or woman born that won’t be picking up money if it falls at their feet. All we have to do is get Duckie onto the road. And the Wheel must be turning for us, for the wind is coming from the right direction.”
That Duckie would follow the scent of ducks was as certain as rain being wet. They had to maneuver behind the low hills to approach the road without being seen, but even before they reached it, Duckie stopped suddenly, sniffing and sniffing. She drew in a breath, and Kavireached for her nose, then changed his mind. The Hrum would be seeing a mule soon enough—no harm in their hearing one.
“Hee haw, hee haw!”
The farmer winced. “Loud, isn’t she?”
Kavi unfastened the lead rope from Duckie’s halter. He didn’t need to swat her rump, for the minute she was free Duckie trotted toward the road—the shortest route toward the scent of her favorite companions.
“Come.” Lakka gestured to the hill beside them. “Come look.” He added a sentence in Suud that Kavi didn’t catch, though he thought it equated to, “This I’ve got to see!”
With the Suud leading they climbed up the muddy hillside, reaching the top in time to see Duckie approach the new Hrum sentry. The man had drawn his sword, and Kavi suffered a moment of horrible doubt. He had meant Duckie to look strange, not threatening, but in the poor visibility of the storm …
Lightning flashed, so near that the thunder struck like a blow and the coins on Duckie’s barding lit up like candles.
“Holy Mikkrah!” the Hrum exclaimed.
Duckie had shied at the thunderclap, but once the nasty sound was gone, she continued on her way. She belonged to a peddler who sold knives—a bared blade in a man’s hand held no terrors for her. She trotted within feet of the sentry, ears pricked in singleminded determination.
The Hrum simply stared as she went past, turning to watch her go. Kavi held his breath—at this distance he couldn’t see the pouch. Had all the coins already fallen out? Was the hole still too small? Duckie was almost around the next bend before the sentry squinted, then stepped forward and picked something small out of the mud. He hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the road, then sheathed his sword and followed.
Kavi heard a distant voice exclaim in Hrum, “What in the …” and the sentry’s reply: “Grab her! She’s carrying money!”
Kavi laughed softly. “Only a fool tries to get between Duckie and ducks.”
The farmer grinned. “I guess I’d best be claiming my mule, and getting home from that wedding I went to. My wife will be wondering where I am and all.”
Kavi frowned. “Let them know you’ve a long trip home. Several days’ walk, maybe. I wish there were some way to keep them quiet about this. There’s a number of Hrum who know Duckie’s habits, and they know she’s mine.”
The farmer shrugged. “If anyone questions me, I’ll say I bought—no, borrowed her off a peddler, to give the folks at the wedding a laugh. Charged me high, you did. You’d better be going now, though.”
“Not if they’re trying to catch Duckie,” said Kavi. “We’ve got plenty of time.” He clasped the man’s wrist warmly, then followed the Suud down the hill and across the soggy road.
It took time to work their way back up to the ravine
“Hmm.” He made the hole a bit bigger, and several coins fell out. “I suppose that’s as close as it’s going to get.”
“You really think that will pull Hrum sentries out of position?” the farmer asked skeptically. “They’d get in more trouble than any brass is worth, if they were caught.”
“Which is why they’ll never be admitting it happened,” Kavi replied, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. “The Hrum are human, and there’s no man or woman born that won’t be picking up money if it falls at their feet. All we have to do is get Duckie onto the road. And the Wheel must be turning for us, for the wind is coming from the right direction.”
That Duckie would follow the scent of ducks was as certain as rain being wet. They had to maneuver behind the low hills to approach the road without being seen, but even before they reached it, Duckie stopped suddenly, sniffing and sniffing. She drew in a breath, and Kavireached for her nose, then changed his mind. The Hrum would be seeing a mule soon enough—no harm in their hearing one.
“Hee haw, hee haw!”
The farmer winced. “Loud, isn’t she?”
Kavi unfastened the lead rope from Duckie’s halter. He didn’t need to swat her rump, for the minute she was free Duckie trotted toward the road—the shortest route toward the scent of her favorite companions.
“Come.” Lakka gestured to the hill beside them. “Come look.” He added a sentence in Suud that Kavi didn’t catch, though he thought it equated to, “This I’ve got to see!”
With the Suud leading they climbed up the muddy hillside, reaching the top in time to see Duckie approach the new Hrum sentry. The man had drawn his sword, and Kavi suffered a moment of horrible doubt. He had meant Duckie to look strange, not threatening, but in the poor visibility of the storm …
Lightning flashed, so near that the thunder struck like a blow and the coins on Duckie’s barding lit up like candles.
“Holy Mikkrah!” the Hrum exclaimed.
Duckie had shied at the thunderclap, but once the nasty sound was gone, she continued on her way. She belonged to a peddler who sold knives—a bared blade in a man’s hand held no terrors for her. She trotted within feet of the sentry, ears pricked in singleminded determination.
The Hrum simply stared as she went past, turning to watch her go. Kavi held his breath—at this distance he couldn’t see the pouch. Had all the coins already fallen out? Was the hole still too small? Duckie was almost around the next bend before the sentry squinted, then stepped forward and picked something small out of the mud. He hesitated for a moment, looking up and down the road, then sheathed his sword and followed.
Kavi heard a distant voice exclaim in Hrum, “What in the …” and the sentry’s reply: “Grab her! She’s carrying money!”
Kavi laughed softly. “Only a fool tries to get between Duckie and ducks.”
The farmer grinned. “I guess I’d best be claiming my mule, and getting home from that wedding I went to. My wife will be wondering where I am and all.”
Kavi frowned. “Let them know you’ve a long trip home. Several days’ walk, maybe. I wish there were some way to keep them quiet about this. There’s a number of Hrum who know Duckie’s habits, and they know she’s mine.”
The farmer shrugged. “If anyone questions me, I’ll say I bought—no, borrowed her off a peddler, to give the folks at the wedding a laugh. Charged me high, you did. You’d better be going now, though.”
“Not if they’re trying to catch Duckie,” said Kavi. “We’ve got plenty of time.” He clasped the man’s wrist warmly, then followed the Suud down the hill and across the soggy road.
It took time to work their way back up to the ravine
Similar Books
