When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (books under 200 pages txt) 📗

"My compatriot is waiting around the next bend, guarding our wares. You've seen Mr. Fellick; he's exceptional at protecting things. We can make room in the wagon for you."

His gaze held Danya's as wind rustled through the trees and a crow flew overhead, cawing at them. The princess wanted to respond—and the weapons merchant's demeanor suggested he expected the same of her—but how she should do so failed her. All she thought to do was stare at the man.

"It's this particular skill of Mr. Fellick's that brought me here," he continued, sensing they needed further explanation. "While you'd certainly say Mr. Fellick is the brawn in our partnership, the fact leaves the brains to me; I do my best to accept this mantle with humility." He chortled a laugh as dry as his humor. "It occurred to me: if I have ever seen two souls in need of protection, they belong to the young ladies standing before me."

A smile crept across his lips. It held none of the comfort Evalal offered when she smiled, but neither did it suggest menace. His grin sat squarely in between, as though painted by an artist unsure what to do with the mouth. The princess glanced at her companion; if his demeanor set her at unease, she didn't show it.

"Thank you for your concern," Danya responded, "but we have no need of an escort. We appreciate your offer of protection but it's unnecessary."

"I understand how one might believe such to be the case." He lowered his chin, gazed upon them from beneath his brow. "Your response is what I'd expect of someone who has never traveled this road, but you have seen what dangers it can hold. Jon and John are the least of the perils you may encounter. This is a merchants' route, a fact well-known by the lesser element of our society. This is why I travel with Mr. Fellick." Ive leaned forward, spoke in a quieter timbre. "It's not for his social graces and pleasing conversational skills, to be sure."

"We will be safe, Mr. Ive." Danya's tone hardened a degree.

"I'd never forgive myself if Mr. Fellick and I left you to your own devices and ill befell you. Then we'd shoulder the fault as much as the perpetrators."

Heat rose in the princess' cheeks. Part of her—the part experiencing gratitude for Ive's presence having negated the threat to Evalal—thought it might be a good idea for them to have protection. But the other part—the larger part—argued they knew the weapons merchants no better than the twin brigands who'd accosted them. Then pride weighed in. She was the kingdom's princess, trained by the best fighter in the king's army—she needed no one's help.

"We—"

The tall man's smile melted from his face. "Please don't make me insist. I am not enamored with forcing aid on others. It is so much more pleasant to give it to those who accept with grace."

Danya glared at him, the knot in her back making its presence known again. She resisted the urge to roll her shoulder to relieve the pain, using it instead to fuel her anger at the man's suggestion of their inability to take care of themselves. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Evalal laid her hand on her forearm. The girl turned away from the weapons merchant, leaned closer to her companion.

"I think we should accept his offer." She spoke in a whisper.

As Danya's brows angled toward the bridge of her nose and the frustration she'd felt at Evalal before the twin brigands appeared returned, a tickle on her leg distracted her. She shifted to assuage the irritation without success. Evalal whispered again before giving her the opportunity to reply.

"Sometimes Goddess makes the path clear."

The irritation in Danya's thigh grew until it became less a sensation and more a vibration. She reached her hand down, meaning to use her touch to calm it, when her fingers encountered the pouch dangling at her belt. She realized the quivering didn't begin in her leg, but emanated from within the doeskin bag. Startled, Danya felt her breath catch in her throat at the realization.

It's trying to communicate. What does it want me to do?

Evalal watched her companion touch the purse. "What does the Seed tell you?"

Danya's resistance and anger dissolved and, for an instant, she forgot the other two people standing with her on the dirt track. Memories flooded her mind: Teryk, the scroll and its prophecy, the Mother of Death and her proclamations. They didn't clarify the meaning of the Seed of Life's vibrations but brought focus to her thoughts; the world needed saving and, like it or not, she'd become linked to it. No matter what it took, accomplishing her tasks—whatever they may be—must be more important to her than everything else.

"We accept your offer, Mr. Ive," she said, her voice cracking. "Please forgive our resistance; sometimes pride stands in the way of common sense. Traveling with you and Mr. Fellick in a wagon full of swords and axes sounds a much safer choice than walking through treacherous areas alone."

The weapons merchant relaxed, the not-quite-a-smile returning to his lips. Danya swallowed hard. Was this the right decision?

"Excellent," he proclaimed with a clap of his hands. "Mr. Fellick will enjoy having someone other than myself for company, I'm sure."

He gestured along the road with a sweep of his arm. Danya turned her attention back to Evalal, found the girl bearing a satisfied expression. The princess moved a step closer to her, leaned in until her lips brushed her ear.

"If you are wrong about your Goddess, this may be the death of us."

Danya bent, retrieved her sword and smock from the dusty road, and started down the track toward the corner ahead where a wain lay hidden, the stocky, formidable man