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) 📗

foot toward the bag, grimacing at the sound of leather sole scraping wooden floorboard. Breath held, she raised her eyes to find out if either of the men noticed; they continued staring across the yard as if trying hard might allow them to peer through the walls. Their trepidation sent a sliver of panic through her chest—what caused hesitation with a man of Fellick's repute at your side? She did her best to ignore the discomfort and eased the air out of her lungs, concentrated on moving her foot closer until the edge of her footwear rested against the pouch.

The seed didn't react.

Did I expect it to?

Her gaze returned to the floor of the wagon and the doeskin purse resting against the side of her boot. No wonder she sensed nothing with two layers of dead animal flesh between them. She shifted again, pushing her foot harder against it, the sack kept from moving by the weight of the sword belt. No movement. She placed her sole on top of the bag, searching for the seed it contained. She touched it and imagined she perceived a tremble.

The wagon shook and bounced as one of the men seated in front of her stood.

"What are you doing?" Fellick intoned.

Danya gasped, heartbeat speeding. She jerked her foot away from the pouch and raised her head toward her captors, lips trembling, searching for an excuse and coming up with none.

Instead of finding the weapons merchants glaring at her, ready to punish her for the attempt, their backs remained toward her. Ive stood.

"We can guess what happened here, don't you agree, Mr. Fellick?"

The stout fellow nodded. "Think so."

"Perhaps you might make a search for anything else we should know."

He showed the briefest of hesitations before lowering himself off the wagon, setting it bouncing once more. Danya grabbed the edge of the bench to steady herself, but Ive didn't appear to notice the disturbance it caused. The smaller, powerful man stroked the horse nearest him as he passed, then bulled his way across the yard, tramping yellowed grass beneath his boot soles. Ive returned to his seat, watching his companion.

Danya cleared her throat, leaned forward. "Excuse me."

The slender merchant tilted his head toward her but kept his eyes on Fellick, tension clear in his shoulders. She wondered what made the men nervous. He said nothing, but she took the gesture as an invitation to continue with her question.

"Why are we here?"

"We are meant to meet an associate." His voice came out flat and she detected a hint of distaste.

Danya thought back to the hushed conversation she'd overheard the weapons merchant share with the barkeep.

Birk.

"It doesn't appear as though your friend is here."

"No, it does not."

"Does he live here?" She knew the answer, only asked to see how he'd reply. The act of speaking helped quell the sparks of fear kindled in her by the nervousness she felt coming from the normally unflappable merchants.

"No. A fellow named Juddah does. He is not a good man, and I'm worried what might have happened to my compatriot."

Though his response smacked of truth, she suspected more in his words than what they appeared.

Fellick stopped partway across the yard and knelt to inspect something hidden in the tall grass. She stretched her neck farther, attempting to lay eyes on it, but with no success. A moment later, the stocky man rose again and continued his path toward the shack. He mounted the stair to the porch then disappeared inside. Danya turned to her companion; the girl noticed and returned her gaze.

Neither spoke; they didn't need to. Both their expressions communicated concern and reticence. Danya raised her eyebrows, Evalal answered with a shrug.

The door slammed shut, startling them as Fellick exited the shack. He hopped off the stair and walked straight for the lopsided outbuilding. The barn door stood open and askew, leaning farther than the building itself. Though age or inadequate upkeep might have caused the door's disrepair, to the princess it looked as if someone had ripped it from its anchors in anger.

Fellick disappeared into the barn and noises spilled out—creaking wood, the rattle of metal, the dull thump of pottery breaking. To Danya's surprise, a cow lowed in an unhappy tone. Everything went silent for the space of fifteen heartbeats before he called out.

"Ive!"

The slender man's straight back went straighter still and Danya clamped her teeth together, knotting the muscles in her jaw. Whatever the squat fellow found to cause him to beckon his partner could not be good. She heard Ive inhale a breath, hold it, let it trickle out through his nostrils, then he stood and climbed from his seat. When his feet touched the ground, he turned toward her and Evalal.

"For your safety, it's best if you ladies come with me."

Danya swallowed hard. He thought in his presence a safer place than in a wagon full of weapons? He couldn't believe they'd try to escape with unknown forest surrounding them. She hesitated, and he locked eyes with her, did nothing more than tilt his chin toward the ground to encourage her to do as he said.

With nerves vibrating beneath her flesh and no other choice before her, the princess acquiesced. He offered his help; she reached out but stopped. When he didn't waver, she slid her hand into his. It surprised her to find his skin soft and smooth as though he knew no manual labor. Her feet touched the ground, and she jerked it away. If he took offense, he showed no indication, instead turning his attention to aiding Evalal from the wagon.

Despite the time that passed with Ive's hesitation and helping the two of them down, Fellick did not call for his partner again. Either he trusted the man that much or something terrible had happened.

Ive waved his arm, ushering them