Chapter 11

A miracle.

Anelie rode at the head of the column half in a daze. She ... they, had seen the hand of God. Witnessed God himself bend nature to his will.

Her will.

Someone's will.

Why did it frighten her? Her parents had been right! The Monks had been right! Hell, even Ruta had been right! God was on their side!

Yet...

"Can we keep this pace?" Felek asked. She glanced at him. His gaze was back, not at the wagons and riders, but the empty road behind. Anelie put her other thoughts aside. He was right. They had to focus on the here and now.

"Another quarter hour," she said, considering the condition of her mount. "We went so slow through the forest, the horses won't be too tired. We'll take a break, then go back to a normal pace."

He nodded, swinging his head back towards the road ahead.

"They're going to get word ahead of us. You know that."

"I know," she groaned. "Why? Why were they trying to stop us?"

"Maybe they just wanted an inspection. Maybe a bribe was expected. Who knows. We'll never find out now." He let out an exasperated sound. "And we don't even know where they were from! Who they represented! They ran west, at least. We can be thankful for that."

They fell into silence. The sound of hoof-beats on stone, of wooden wagons creaking, filled the gap. She could hear conversation behind them. Soft, whispered.

Awed.

"What do you think it means, Felek?" She looked at him. "I mean..." She waved a hand indecisively. "What was it?"

"No idea," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. He should know. Felek grew up in the Palace. Was well read. Had good teachers. Hell, probably even paid attention to them. If he didn't know, who among them would?

"We can't worry about that, anyway," he went on. "Can't let it change what we're doing. I mean, it COULD have been coincidence." His voice was skeptical even as he said it, much to Anelie's relief. Nobody could be that stupid. "At least, we can't count on it happening again. It could have been a one time thing. Next time, we might have to fight. Pay a bribe. Whatever. Divine intervention isn't a reliable plan of action."

Anelie laughed, one of her many talks with Shanna coming to mind.

"Shanna once said God is on the side with the best army."

"His Grace said something similar," Felek nodded. "He said the side with the most cannons, though, then spent a half hour telling me about gunpowder and guns. Fascinating."

"Did he tell you about their wars?"

His eyes came up to meet hers. Yes, she saw. The King had. She sighed, looking away, not wanting to talk about such things. The world of His Grace and Shanna was so ... beyond what she could understand. Beautiful, yes. It had created Shanna, after all. Yet, there was much evil and destruction there as well, things Shanna was not telling Anelie. Much she was holding back. Protecting her.

Another reason for Anelie to love Shanna.

Empty fields changed to farmland. Short furry creatures knelt in the dirt between rows of plants, eyes all focusing on the Poles as they swiftly rode by. There would be no question of others being able to track them. Still ... it wasn't like they had RESISTED those soldiers. They had simply fled the sudden storm in a different direction. They had done nothing wrong.

Anelie found herself urging Toria to go a little faster.

Felek watched as the wagons came closer.

Seeing them answered at least one of his questions. No traveler would leave a town this late in the day, starting a journey which would require sleeping under the stars mere hours later. Thus, it was likely there was no town, let alone city, reachable that day down this road. They would be camping, resupply once again delayed. Not that they were bad off, but if the locals were going to be trouble he wanted full wagons to start any prolonged hiding. Anelie let out a sigh beside him.

"Klocia!" she yelled. Felek could not help but smile. It was like no other soldier existed to her. Klocia this, Klocia that. Lewy was going to be replaced if he wasn't careful. Probably had been. The girl was competent, at least. She rode up the column, bringing her mount beside Anelie. Her body was at full attention in the saddle.

"Lady?"

"Might need your translation." Anelie jerked her head towards the approaching travelers. She then seemed to squint, leaning forward. "Or not. They look like Kikker."

Felek took another look. The beasts pulling the wagons were Perds, the slimy four legged beasts of burden used by the Kikker. That meant nothing, though, any more than horses necessarily meant Poles. Felek knew of at least one Gritic trader who had taken a stallion and three mares with him the year before. What the spiderish crab creature intended to DO with them was an open question, one His Grace had not seemed to be concerned with. Perhaps they were to be bred for food. As he continued to watch, though, it became clear the travelers were dark green Kikker. Three wagons, fully loaded with tarp covered goods, each pulled by six of the slow Perds. Two male Kikker rode at the front of each.

"Greetings!" Felek said loudly, raising an arm as they came closer. He brought his group to a stop. The lead Kikker wagoner reined in his beasts, slowly coming to a stop on the left side of the roadway. Felek rode forward a bit, coming up beside him. "I'm Felek, from Nowy Warsaw."

"Cheikh, from everywhere." The Kikker grinned at him. "This is not an invasion, I hope. That is bad for trade."

"We are good," Felek laughed, "but it would take twice this number to take one of these cities." He motioned up the road with his head. "How far is it to the next settlement?"

"We could reach it by just past nightfall," Cheikh said, transferring his reins to one hand so he could scratch under a bare armpit with the other. "I'm sure your beasts could get there sooner."

Felek blinked, surprised.

"What drove you out this late in the day?"

The two Kikker glanced at each other. Glancing into the back of the wagon, Felek noticed the cargo seemed to be arranged a bit haphazardly under a tarp which was not even tied down fully. He chuckled.

"Don't need details, my friend. However," he added, glancing back down the road he had just traveled, "you may like to know we ran into some Watu soldiers a ways back, over a hundred strong. You most likely won't reach them today, but..."

"Ah." Cheikh looked down the road, frowning. "Yes. Thank you for that information."

"What can we expect up ahead?"

"Small city, maybe ten thousand Watu. Didn't catch its name. Not that bad. Expensive, though. At least for those like us."

Felek nodded. Ten thousand was not that small, at least compared to what he was used to. He thought, glancing around the countryside.

"Do you know of any watering holes off the road up ahead?"

The Kikker pointed back over his wagon.

"There's a stream they had to bridge over a little ways back. The ground on this side looks passable, at least up to the tree line." He gestured north.

Felek looked at Anelie. She nodded. He turned back to the wangoner, smiling.

"Thank you, my friend." Felek paused, looking closer at the 'trader'. Something about him stood out. Seemed ... trustworthy. His Grace had not been too specific on who Felek should contact. They just had to be ... useful. Felek dismounted. "Friend Cheikh," he said, reaching into his saddlebag, "may I speak to you off on the side of the road, just for a moment? It will be well worth your time."

The Kikker regarded him for a long moment. Yes. Under his rather casual attitude was some steel. Handing the reins to his companion, Cheikh stepped down from the wagon. Felek almost got a good look under the rope kilt, but thankfully the blue and red weave covered just enough. Felek walked off the embankment, stopping when he was just out of sight of the others. Cheikh came down beside him. Felek help up a sheet of folded paper.

"This, friend Cheikh, is a letter of introduction to the royal court of King James, ruler of Nowy Poland." The Kikker's yellow eyes widened. "His Grace is looking for those who might, in some way, help our people, and those who ally with us. Or, at least, honorably work to both our benefit. With suitable rewards, naturally."

Cheikh stood for a moment, silent. He looked up the bank, towards the unseen travelers.

"My current companions are not ... reliable. I must dispose of my cargo before going on."

"Do you work for anyone?" Felek had the sudden feeling he had chosen much better than he had any right to expect. Cheikh shook his head.

"No. I am Master-less."

"Do you know of my people?"

"I know they are not who they were." Their eyes met. Slowly, Cheikh nodded. "I will consider it."

"Thank you." Felek held out his right arm. Cheikh clasped it, hand grasping his forearm. Felek returned the gesture. "Travel to Fort Buffalo on the Orlan River, south of Daraja, next to the village of Puln. Show the document to Commander Shanna, the brown-skinned one. Tell her where you met us, and that ... all is well." He resisted the urge to give more detail, or delay enough to write a letter. There was no need to send news which would be weeks out of date by the time it was received. "Also tell her Felek thinks the Watu bandits are, in fact, working in part with the army." Cheikh nodded again, not looking surprised. Releasing his grip, Felek handed him the paper. Cheikh pulled out the waist of his kilt slightly, slipping the paper into the pocket Felek knew many such garments had. Both made their way back to the roadway.