Laurie Marks Elemental Logic 01 Fire Logic

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warehouse with Medric asleep in his arms, and could not bring himself to care
what anyone thought of him. He had broken with the past, and the future was a
book he could hardly wait to read.
Chapter Twenty
After a day or two of travel, Zanja stopped expecting the upbraiding she
deserved. In fact, Norina accorded Zanja a certain kindness, though from
outside
it might have looked more like indifference. She had looked after Zanja�s
injuries, patiently soaking loose the bandage from the wound, and rebandaging
it
every day after that with an expertise that she must have acquired from
J�han.
She insisted that Zanja rest even though she could not sleep, and hounded her
into eating. She and the man took turns riding, while Zanja rode all the
time,
and she would not permit Zanja to do any of the work at all, except small
things
she could do while sitting down. It was easier to acquiesce to her iron will
than it was to resist, and so, in spite of the circumstances, Zanja�s
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injuries
began to heal.
Other than insisting brusquely that Zanja obey her, Norina left her alone.
Zanja
rode blindly behind her companions, carried forward only by the momentum of
the
journey. She did not know where she was, or in what direction she traveled.
She
did not care that she lived, and took no interest in what might happen to her
next. Days passed, and she did not even speak. She wept without noticing her
own
tears.
One morning, she raised her head and noted that they were traveling
northward.
They followed a rutted, unmarked track through rugged, mountainous country.
Some
time passed, and she looked down and noticed Norina walking at her stirrup,
breathless, putting a hand occasionally to the horse�s side for balance.
�You�ll
miscarry,� Zanja said.
�I�m as likely to miscarry as you are to die from sepsis,� Norina said.
Some time later, Zanja said, �I feel I could die from sorrow first.�
But Norina said, quite sensibly and with surprising kindness, �You�ll start
feeling better soon. The first year is over.�
A long time later, Zanja asked, �Will Willis get control of South Hill
Company?�
Norina laughed. �That man? Not even in his dreams.�
That night, Zanja plunged into a deep and restful sleep, from which she woke
as
if rousing from a summer fever. She bathed in a cold stream, washed and
mended
her shirt, and took out her blades to check and clean them. The small knife
in
her boot was blood-encrusted. She fingered the scab on her neck, remembering
what she had done, amazed that her crazed logic had brought aid after all.
�The raven is gone?� she asked Norina, as they ate camp porridge by the fire.
The man-at-arms was already saddling the horses.
�Naturally, I sent him with a message to Karis that you are all right.�
�I want to send Karis an apology. I must have startled her when I wrote that
message on the knife blade.�
Norina ate a few mouthfuls of her porridge before commenting, rather wryly,
�I
have to say, your methods are ingenious.�
One night they were kindly welcomed and generously fed in a woodcutter�s
camp,
where the people were desperate for news and stories of any kind at all.
Zanja
lay gazing at the stars, which had not been so close since she left the
mountains of her people.
Soon, they climbed down out of the mountains and followed a river to the
northwest, and slept one night at a farmstead, in the hay. The farmers fed
them
even though they were respectively too injured, tired, and pregnant to work;
they would not hear of a pregnant woman going hungry; and they nearly
convinced
her to sleep in a bed instead of the barn. Norina was not tireless, and when
Zanja turned to look at her that night she caught her off guard, and just for
a
moment could see how worried she was. Then Norina turned her head, and her
face
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was stone again.
At midday, they entered a village at a crossroads, which Norina said was
called
Strongbridge. The bridge was indeed impressive, and was frequently crossed by
heavy wagons. The inn-yard they entered served as a kind of depot where huge
dray horses stood harnessed while the drivers paced the cobbles, stretching
their stiff legs, eating the meat and bread hauled out to them in baskets,
and
swigging tankards of ale against the oppressive heat. The inn itself was of
startling size, recently painted red and green, with flowers cascading over
its
roof from an enterprising vine. Among the flowers a raven stalked. In the
rectangular gap of a second floor window a very tall woman was intricately
folded, nearly invisible in shadow. She looked as though she might be trapped
there.
�Zanja,� Norina said sharply, to call her attention to the girl who waited
for
Zanja to hand her the reins. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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