* * *
Tradesman Hildebrand’s bottom spread out wider than his waist, which exceeded the girth of his broad chest. A knotted mass of black hair sat atop the merchant’s head, and several loose strands cascaded down the sides of his plump face. A heavy mustache hid his upper lip and a thick beard cloaked his neck and shoulders. His disproportionately small eyes rolled in their sockets as he looked down from his perch atop the lead coach. His feet dangled to a height well above Xandor’s head. “Are you soft, boy?”
Xandor stood as straight and tall as he could, a hand on his sword hilt. “No, sir.”
“You look soft to me. I saw you kissing that girl. She’s too young for a warrior like you. Are you practiced with that weapon on your hip?”
“I am, sir.”
“Everyone calls me Big Hill. So will you, if you want to ride with me.” He turned his head as though to look over a shoulder, but his neck wouldn’t pivot that far. He shouted, “Ursula! Your new wagon-mate is here!”
Xandor looked at the trader. “Sir?”
Tradesman Hildebrand jerked in his seat. “Do you want to ride with me, boy?”
“Yes, sir, but I—”
“I said, do you want to ride with me?”
“I do, but—”
“Then stop calling me sir.”
“Yes, Tradesman Hildebrand, um, I mean, Big Hill.”
“That’s more like it.”
The sound of swishing cloth, like curtains being moved aside, came from the back of a nearby wagon. A woman looking three times Xandor’s age stepped into view but did not approach. “Come here, young man,” she said and then disappeared behind the wagon.
If Xandor had to share a wagon with a female, he was glad it wasn’t someone his age. Perhaps Jenna would tolerate his being in the presence of an older woman for the trip to Trisden. He had no coin, so he had to take what opportunity he could that didn’t require the exchange of money. Riding with Tradesman Hildebrand was the only way, unless he wanted to wait for the next caravan, which wasn’t due until nearly the end of Wind. He wasn’t prepared to wait even another day, much less twenty. If he had to share quarters with an old woman, then so be it.
The woman pointed a finger at the curtained back of the wagon. “You know the rules? Someone has to be guarding the wagon and its cargo at all times. It’s your turn now. I’m off to see my kids.” She strode away. Xandor didn’t ask when she would be back.
He moved the curtain aside and climbed into the wagon. The interior was paneled with grey wooden planks, with a dirty white canvas stretched over an arched wooden frame for a ceiling. Two beds, one to the left and one to the right, occupied the rear third of the wagon. Each bed was large enough to accommodate one person. The beds had no sideboards, but each sat snugly against a wall, secured with metal hinges that would allow them to be folded up out of the way. A number of wooden crates rested in neat stacks beyond the beds.
A book by the title Tome of Elemental Understanding rested on one of the beds, beneath a floating ball of flame. That bed was obviously Ursula’s, so Xandor sat on the edge of the other. By the elemental’s light, he untied Jenna’s pouch and let Willem poke out his head. “I miss you, Jenna,” he whispered, confident she was listening. “Are you upset that I must share a wagon with an older woman?”
Willem shook his head, as though he’d understood the question and the answer was no.
Xandor smiled for Jenna.
Footsteps sounded outside the wagon, growing closer with each step. Xandor urged Willem back into the pouch, which he stuffed under his pillow just before the curtain moved aside. Expecting Ursula, he stood to offer his hand to the older woman, but froze and stared mutely as a girl about his age climbed into the wagon.
In other circumstances, a greeting might have been proper. Instead, Xandor declared, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Her stark white hair lay over her shoulders and breasts. She wore a tight black leather tunic that exposed her belly button. Black leather boots with red laces rode up to her knees. Red stockings covered the remainder of her long legs. Black shorts covered her private area and little else.
She looked at Xandor and snorted in derision. “You must be Xandor. Big Hill told me to expect you.” She picked up the Tome of Elemental Understanding, flopped onto the bed and started reading.
“Um, who are you?”
“I’m Ursula.” She glanced at Xandor. “Don’t get any ideas. We’re wagon-mates. That’s all. You stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” She went back to reading.
Xandor continued to stare at the girl he’d be traveling with in close quarters for the next several days. “I thought the older woman was Ursula.”
“You must mean Theresa. No, this is the end of the line for her. She was watching the wagon while I stretched my legs.”
He could imagine how Jenna would take this and it wasn’t well. Xandor was tempted to leave Willem where he was for the remainder of the trip. With any luck, the mouse couldn’t hear through the pillow, which would mean Jenna hadn’t heard the conversation that had just transpired.
“You might want to sit down,” Ursula said.
The wagon lurched forward. Xandor staggered but maintained his footing, but quickly sat on the edge of his bed facing Ursula. “Are you Big Hill’s daughter?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re not from Vagar. I know everyone who lives in this excuse for a city. Where are you from?”
“Amorworl.”
“On the east coast, right?”
Ursula lowered her book and turned cool blue eyes on him. “So you learned something in school. Yes, it’s on the east coast. And before you ask, yes, I’m headed for Omensound to do my Age Quest. Anything else you want to know?”
Xandor gulped. “I’m going for my Age Quest too.”
“Well, then,” Ursula said, turning back to her book, “we might as well travel together all the way to Omensound. The Seeress will probably even have us do our Age Quests together. Won’t that be fun?” The tone of her voice implied she was teasing him.
So Xandor teased back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re rude?”
“Yeah, but I’m cute too, so that makes up for it.”