The Banished of Muirwood Read Online Free PDF Page A

air had begun to change as they painstakingly made their way downward. Since landing off the storm-ridden coast of Merohwey, the land had felt cursed and inhospitable. But the feeling was beginning to dwindle now that they had crossed this cracked range of gray, shattered rock, and the normal signs of deer and fox began to present themselves. The music of birds chirping came as a welcome sound to her ears. There was a subdued feeling, a quiet hope in her heart. Even though the Dochte Mandar were chasing them, she did not feel quite so desperate.
    “We are in the midst of Dahomey,” the kishion said as they stopped to cup water from a small brook with their hands. It was their first water of the day, and both gulped it down eagerly before filling their waterskins. “I do not speak this tongue very well, so you must be the one to talk with the villagers. Say little. Men’s tongues wag when they see something strange, or a pretty face.” He wiped his mouth on his gloved hand. “Even our clothing marks us as foreigners. Try to barter for information. If they prove reluctant, I will make things simpler for us.”
    She stared into his eyes. “I do not want to be troublesome to these people. They are innocent.”
    “You said you would trust my judgment, my lady. Believe me, in towns like this, they will respond to fear more than they will coins. There is no one here who can face me, not even all of them together. I will not harm them if I do not have to, but we must be quick and to the point. We need the supplies to cross this land into either Paeiz or Mon. A guide if we can persuade him. Otherwise, he will guide us unwillingly.”
    “Very well. Let me do my best to convince him first.”
    The kishion stood and brushed twigs from his sleeve, gazing back up the trail, and then nodded. Maia knelt and sipped again from the water in her palm. It was cold, clean, and delicious. She sighed, her joints aching from the long journey. Her gown was stained and splitting at the seams, so she fastened her cloak more tightly around her throat and raised the cowl to conceal her face. Daylight dwindled quickly, and they hurried their pace to reach the town before darkness would force them to stumble blindly. Huge pine trees swayed in the stiff winds that whipped her cloak out behind her and threatened to tug loose her cowl.
    As they reached the shelter of the trees stationed along the lake, the winds struggled to pierce their clothes. Large boulders hunkered all around, some twice the height of a person. Other boulders rested in the shallows of the lake, and Maia realized that many had cracked off the edge of the mountain and tumbled down.
    There were ramshackle stone huts throughout the grove of trees, many of which had small chimneys radiating the smoke they had seen earlier. There were enough fallen trees around them to provide almost an unlimited supply of firewood. Her boots crunched in the gravel and needles as the two maneuvered through the small hamlet without encountering a soul. Voices could be heard emanating from one structure—an inn or tavern of some kind that seemed to be a gathering place for locals. The walls were made of sturdy stone slabs, each cut by nature and not by hand, fastened around the buttress of an enormous boulder as if it had been the ruins of a great castle. It had a timber roof that was in danger of sagging under the weight of dead pine needles.
    The kishion nodded toward the structure, and they approached the only door. As the kishion pulled on the iron-ring handle, the door opened, sending out a blast of warm, fragrant air. Maia smiled in spite of herself, very willing to lie down on the dirt floor and sleep right there.
    The room was full of mostly men, though there was a handful of hardy-looking women who were lean and weather chafed. Three hearths circled the room, and a skewered stag was roasting on a spit in one of them, the smell of the sizzling meat making Maia’s mouth water.
    As they entered, a