Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

Brandt’s smile widened. He gave her a mock salute and continued on his way.

* * *

THE CARAVAN MADE its first stop in Hammenz, where two passengers disembarked, and the crew unloaded barrels of salted fish. A few days later, they turned off the main highway for a smaller road that cut southwest through the hills. More stops punctuated their journey, just as Brenn predicted, and their progress slowed. One in Venner to deliver crates of sea salt. Another two days later to pick up leather and hides. Several families disembarked in Kassel, and the tumbler troupe, along with Lena and Gabi, left the caravan in Strahlsende. Soon the only passengers who remained were Therez and the scholar, both of them bound for Duenne.

Nearly a month after leaving Melnek, Alarik Brandt called for an overnight stay in the trade town of Mundlau. Therez stayed close to the wagons, not liking this loud rough town. She could hear the crew excitedly discussing how they would spend their brief hours of leave. Brandt would dock anyone who caused trouble, but apparently there were many ways to define trouble, and many more ways to evade punishment. Even Brenn and Volker talked about the brandy they would drink, and the women they would bed.

By late morning, a sullen, subdued crew returned to work, loading crates and bundles that had arrived earlier from the local merchants. As Therez waited to reclaim her seat, she saw Brandt approaching from the agent’s offices, across the square. To her surprise, he was heading directly toward her.

“Wagons are filling up,” he said without preamble. “I’ll need two more denier from you, if you want to keep your seat.”

Therez started. “But I already paid for my passage.”

“So you did, but goods come first.” He plucked a knife from his belt and ran its edge underneath one ragged fingernail. When Therez said nothing, he looked up with narrowed eyes. “I need an answer, girl. Pay up, or stay behind. Which is it?”

Her first inclination was to tell him no. But they had passed fewer caravans on the road than she expected, and she disliked the idea of waiting here, in this ugly town, until another happened by. Swiftly she calculated what money she had left and what she expected to need. If she paid Brandt, that would leave her thirteen gold denier, plus the silver and copper, and her jewelry. It would be enough, she decided.

“Two deniers?” she said reluctantly.

“Two. And give them now. I’ve work to do.”

Two more coins left her pouch for Brandt’s weathered palm.

After Mundlau, the caravan passed into a long stretch of wilderness blanketed with pine forests. There would be no more stops until they reached the Gallenz Valley, Brenn told Therez. There they would meet up with the main highway running between Duenne and the port city of Tiralien. The caravan would also make a longer halt, for supplies and other goods, before the final stretch to Duenne.

“Five weeks to Gallenz. Three more to the city herself,” Brenn said.

Therez was thinking of Duenne, and how she might find employment, as she took inventory of her belongings that night. The task had become part of her routine, and her fingers deftly sorted through socks and shirts and linens, as she mulled over her future. Then her hands paused, and a chill went through her.

My money. My jewelry. They’re gone.

With shaking hands, she searched the pack again. She took out every item and shook them one by one, searching for even a single coin or bracelet. Nothing. The money in her boots and the small bag she kept underneath her shirt were still safe, but the main portion was gone, and so was her jewelry.

She stuffed her belongings back into her

pack and hurried back to the camp. She spotted Alarik Brandt, leaning against a wagon wheel as he supervised a crew digging the fire pits. He had his knife out and was whittling a new tent stake. Therez pushed through to stand in front of him. “Someone robbed me,” she said in a low voice. “They took my money and— They took all of it.”

Brandt frowned as he sliced a long flake of bark from the new stake. “My men don’t steal.”

“I didn’t say that—”

“You did. Girl, I’m not your nursemaid. If you lost your money, that’s too bad.”

Therez trembled, from anger and a cold abiding panic, but she turned away, knowing it would do no good to argue with the man. It’s not the end, she told herself. I paid for meals. I won’t starve. I’ll just have to find work faster once I get to Duenne.

“One thing more.” Brandt raised his voice, causing a few of the men to pause in their work. “I’m needing a bit more money. Goods and profit and all that.”

Therez stopped. “I can’t pay anything more. I—” She bit her lips on her next words. She didn’t want to mention she still had money. If he knew, he would take it. “I can’t pay you,” she said again.

“Can’t have that either.”

His voice had gone flat, making the skin on her neck prickle. She turned around to see him watching her with a steady, unblinking gaze. The knife lay in his palm, its blade glinting in the red light of sunset.

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

“Credit,” he said, closing his fingers over the hilt. “I’m thinking you have a rich family back in Melnek. They’ll pay the bill for a runaway.”

It took all her effort to keep her voice steady. “I’m not a runaway.”