King's Ransom

CHAPTER TWENTY: FUGITIVE (Part Two)

Kaia jolted awake, heart racing. Something had changed. Something was wrong. The cart jerked to a halt. No light penetrated the inky blackness of her hiding place to provide any sense of time or surroundings. Dusk? She forced herself to relax and calm her breathing. Calvatti was probably preparing to stop for the night. No need to panic. Her stomach growled for food and her bladder was near bursting. Maybe that woke her.

Clattering hooves and muffled calls swirled around the cart like a storm surge. Kaia's breath stopped in her throat. Bandits? Where was the adezay? She slowly fumbled around in the bed of furs searching for the box. Had Calvatti taken it when he replaced her clothes and bandages? Her cheeks burned at the thought. Where was it?

"Merchant," a loud voice called next to her.

Kaia froze.

"What do you want?" Calvatti. The wagon jiggled, as he jumped to the ground. A boot crunched. "I paid my taxes when I left Severn Par."

"We're looking for a girl who escaped from the Citadel several days ago. You were there when it happened."

"You haven't found her yet?" Calvatti's voice held a note of mockery under the polite interest.

"We believe she'd seek help from her countrymen."

"The princess?" Calvatti sounded shocked.

"How do you know who it is?" A new, more eager voice interrupted.

"More than one Salbatoran girl is staying at the palace?"

"Search him," the first voice commanded. "It'll go poorly for you if you interfere."

Instead of the struggle Kaia half-expected, Calvatti said nothing. Canvas rustled and the springs creaked as people moved inside the bed of the wagon. The boards above her nose rumbled as soldiers slid the chests across the floor and lowered them to the ground. Someone crawled under the cart and knocked on the fake panel beneath her. Sweat she didn't dare wipe away trickled down her forehead. What would they do to her or the hillman if they found her?

"Those are just my wares," Calvatti protested.

"Unlock them."

Keys jingled and the trunks opened with creaking hinges.

"Hey!" Calvatti said. "No need to throw them on the dirt. How small is this girl that she could fit in there?"

Inside, pans crashed to the floor, and tapping began on the ceiling above Kaia. Were they wrecking the place?

"One of my customers is a satrap. I'll tell her about this treatment."

"We're just doing our duty."

"There's nothing here," the eager voice reported, this time with diminished enthusiasm. "Our source must have been mistaken."

"Your source?" demanded Calvatti. "What source? Who told you to suspect me?"

"None of your concern. Consider yourself lucky we didn't take axes to your cart to examine every wood chip.

"Mount up. We've another merchant to find."

A general scuffle of shoes and hooves followed the order. The patrol cantered off, sending a spray of pebbles against the undercarriage.

Kaia took a shuddering breath and released it. Silence. After several minutes, Calvatti cursed and began repacking. She didn't move, too terrified to make a noise that would alert any spies left behind. It took forever until the flaps were closed and the cart started along the road again. Still Calvatti didn't speak to her. He had to know what he was doing; there wasn't anyone else she could rely on.