Spooked

Durandus the first stared at me, then at Apis. He hesitated before looking at Duran. “You’re, ah. You’re sure you all want to go?”

Outside, it was raining, a slow drizzle on top of a crust of snow. The weather could theoretically be worse, but not by much. It wasn’t weather for travelling. It was weather for staying inside, drinking some mead, and eating a large roast boar by the fire.

I pulled my cloak a little tighter around myself and tried not to look in the corner, where the vision of Andrena was leaning against the wall. I thought you were low on belief. You should conserve some and stop staring at me.

I want to make sure you’re going to keep your word.

She didn’t have to loom so much. I pointedly ignored her and turned back to Durandus the first. It was hard to feel the same disdain for him I had before. All of the parts of him were the same- the faint smell of alcohol, the slump. The dark circles under his eyes. But I just couldn’t conjure up the same level of anger. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t tried to stab me yet. Did that make him an ally?

No. It couldn’t be. I was just glad he’d paid the taxes and hadn’t been selfish enough to die. “You heard the man,” I told Duran, to avoid any further introspection. It was making me nauseous. “Did you want to stay with him? I’m sure he can teach you to, uh…” What exactly was it that Durandus the first did? “…balance the books.”

“I’m going with you,” said Duran, before I could finish the sentence. He didn’t seem to even want to look at Durandus the first. He was staring out the windows, at the mare cropping the single piece of grass exposed by the ice and snow.

“He very much values his experience in his apprenticeship, of course,” said Apis, in the way only he could make seem honest. “We thank you for hosting us. We’ll think of you and make dedications for you while we’re on the road. If you ever need anything, or further instruction about feeding the-”

Durandus the first pulled his hand away. “Don’t fall in a ditch.”

Still not much for the gods, then. I pushed the door open before we could say anything else regrettable and made a beeline for the cart. “You’re sure you want to leave him with the bees? We’re going to come back to an empty hive.”

“They’re blessed by Andrena,” said Apis. “And I told them where the food is kept, in case he forgets.” He sighed. “Besides. It would be worse to take them north, over the water. I’ll just have to hope he’s more responsible than he seems.”

As long as I’d known him, Apis had treated the bees like a very small toddler. For him to set them loose like this was shockingly out of character, but… he was probably right about the boat.

I refrained from comment about Durandus the first and saddled up the mule instead.

If I had been able to negotiate with Andrena better, we would have waited until summer, when the roads were clear and Andrena was at the height of her power. I could have taken the main road to the northern port town of Rocky Mount, taken a pleasure cruise to one of the towns in the North, and then done whatever the Goddess demanded. Presumably it would involve stabbing a few people possessed by ghosts and freeing the gods where they were captured.

Instead, because Andrena had the patience of a toddler, we were forced to take the winter route. It was much longer, because it had to go through the muddy lowlands instead of cutting through the mountain passes. I wasn’t even sure if we would be able to book a ship. The pleasure cruises didn’t usually go in the winter.

That was, however, a future problem. Today, all we had to worry about was taking the cart through a week’s worth of slush and mud.

~*~

The miles passed slow as honey dripping. I hope you’re happy, I muttered to Andrena, taking us around a pothole large enough for our entire mule to fall in without her ears poking out. In the summer, we would have been halfway to the Mount by now. Andrena declined to respond.

Behind me, Apis was snoring (his ability to sleep anywhere was shocking) and Duran was struggling to read through a recipe, sounding out syllables. His voice was muffled by the cloak he had over his head, trying to shield himself from the rain.

It sounded like he was stuck on the word ‘cardamom’. “

It’s not a type of mother,” I told him, trying to encourage the mare to speed up. “Flatter on the o.” The mare dug her heels in and stopped moving entirely.

“Why would they name it that, then?”

I leaned forward and glared at the mule. She ignored me. I clicked my tongue hopefully. Also ignored.

There was a flash above us, and the rain started coming down harder. A moment after, there was a crash of thunder. At the sound, her ears flattened. I saw her moving as she yanked the cart forward. Spooked by the sound, she jumped forward, fast as a hare.

It was all I could do to hold onto the reins. We were bumping over the surface as she left the road, running through forest and over crusted ice and snow. What had gotten into her? I leaned forward, yelling, pulling the reins. She didn’t respond. Surely this hadn’t been her first time hearing thunder. She was such a calm mare!

The cart tumbled more as Apis sat up, waking. I glanced back as he leaned forward, frowning. “What-“

I couldn’t hear the rest of his comments. There was a massive cracking sound, and the entire cart rattled to a stop.

Next to me, the wheel of the cart slipped off, wobbled, turned for a while, and finally fell to the side. A broken axle, then.

In front of us, the mare galloped off. She’d come loose, tugging the reins out of my hands. I could just barely see her flank, bright in the light filtering through the clouds, as she left my sight. There was that money gone, then.

“What,” I said finally, “was that?”

There was another crash of thunder. As if to add insult to injury, the rain just came down harder. At this time of winter, it was strange enough to get a thunderstorm, not to mention one of this size. I stared into the distance. It just wasn’t adding up.

“Did she ever get spooked with you?”

“Maybe she missed the bees,” said Apis.

Before I could respond, Duran pushed the cloak up and looked around. He frowned. “Wait. Why are we stopped? Are we there already?”

“We’re walking,” I said. “Get your things.”

Duran was suprisingly cheerful about the walk. My boots were filling up with mud, and my patience was running out. “Eyes on the road,” I said. I could hear him slowing.

“But Madame Elysia-”

“The mare isn’t going to come back,” I said. I could feel a blister forming on the back of my heel, right where the leather was getting thinner. I was too old for all of this. The next time a Goddess tried to get me into a deal, I was saying no thank you, and no bones about it. “We’re not catching her, and we’re not going back for the cart, as I said before.”

“Madame Elysia, there’s a carriage coming up the road.” He pointed. I turned. Apis, a few steps behind us, had already stopped and was waving them to the side. With a great clattering, it slowed.

A few moments passed as I trudged through the mud and up to the window. I knocked on the door twice. At first, there was no response. I glanced up at the coachman. He shrugged. A moment later, the small window in the door flipped open.

A man gazed through at me. A very familiar man. “I thought you were going back to the capital.”

“I thought you had your own Cart,” said one of the Lawyers at large.

“I-” I paused. Every instinct within me said to start walking again.

“We’ll take the ride,” said Apis, coming up behind me. “Thank you for your kind offer.”

They waited until the door was closed and the coach was moving too fast to jump out before speaking. I was sitting next to one, his elbow jabbing me in the side every time we went over a bump, and across from another, his little mustache trembling with anticipation.

I cleared my throat. As if he’d forgotten his initial offer, he trembled, eyebrows shooting up, then looked down and fumbled in his pocket. Eventually he emerged with a wheel of cheese.

“There is a matter of delayed payment from an organization that has hired us,” he said, cutting off a piece and offering it to me. “We are under the belief you may be able to resolve this for us.”

I frowned. “What?”

He nodded, very delicately, at the sword. I’d forgotten I was even wearing it. “In your capacity as a Paladin of Andrena.”

“You’re a lawyer. Can’t you just… demand they pay you?”

At least the cheese was good.

“Some situations require a firmer hand.”

I stared at him as we rattled over a few more bumps. Duran had put away the book and was staring at me, and Apis was looking out the window, fingers tapping on his knee.

“Who is it?”

“What?”

“Who won’t pay you?”

“Ah,” he said. “Yes.” He ate another piece of cheese. It was actually enjoyable, making a lawyer nervous. Maybe I should keep the sword after I finished this paladin business. “The temple of the Beetle.”

No wonder he wanted me on his side. “What?”

I tried to picture my ex-husband, the current Voice of the Beetle and head of the temple, stealing money from someone. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, theoretically. It was just hard to picture him finding the spirit for it. He was a wet towel of a man.

“For years, we have worked for them often- taxes, criminal matters, hunting down debtors.” said the other lawyer. He hadn’t eaten any of the cheese. “Yet this last time, upon writing a contract for their northern temple extension- as we do every year!- they said it was no longer needed and they would not be paying. That is not the agreed upon contract.”

“And your next solution is hiring me to stab the Voice of the Beetle.”

“You don’t need to stab anyone,” said the other Lawyer. “Some strong words, perhaps. About the power of a contract.”

I leaned back and folded my arms. At least this was an easy answer. “Sorry. Can’t help you. I’m banned from the Capital.”

“Banned?”

“Better not to ask why,” I said.

Maybe someone else would have pressed further, but it seemed there were some benefits to traveling with lawyers. They stuck to their word, kept their mouths shut, and didn’t kick us out until we made it to Rocky Mount. They even gave us more cheese.