Karavans by Jennifer Roberson Read Free Book Online

stumbled closer. His damp, reddened eyes were fixed on her. He appeared not to see the children at all, which suited Audrun. She clutched the wagon with onehand and tugged her tunic and skirts into order with the other. It was habit, to face all things in life with such tidiness and competence as could be managed.
    ILONA OPENED HER eyes. She felt an absence in her mind, the lack of a touch on her brow. It took her a moment to focus on the oilcloth roof. Lerin’s tent.
    Memories returned. “Are we finished?”
    “Yes. You may sit up.”
    Ilona did so, turning her body to face Lerin. “What did you see?”
    “I saw a storm like no other, with killing winds and rain. I saw a karavan, and Hecari warriors. I saw a woman.”
    “Was there enough for you to read?”
    Lerin’s smile was of brief duration, merely a wry twitching of her lips. “If one knows how. A portion should be clear even to someone not a diviner: a storm is coming. But that is not why the karavan turns back; there is an even greater threat that causes that.”
    Ilona shook her head. “Jorda has never once, while I’ve been with him, turned a karavan around.”
    Lerin made a slight silencing gesture, counseling patience. “That may be. But in the future—a week from now, a year, a decade—he shall do so. The Hecari?” Lerin shrugged. “It should come as no surprise that you might see one or many in your dreams. They are a plague upon the land, consuming Sancorra day by day, and you have seen them among the karavans.”
    Ilona nodded; she had seen far too many Hecari as she traveled the roads with Jorda. “What about the woman?”
    “Little to see,” Lerin replied. “A profile, tawny hair no more. She is a stranger as yet, but will come to be known to you, come to be important.”
    Part of Ilona was frustrated by the information. It told her very little. But she supressed her impatience; surely there were times when the clients she read for felt the same. “Is this woman to be a client of mine?”
    “I think that likely,” Lerin said. “But in profile, it was difficult to see enough to recognize her, and her hair was loose beside her face. I can only tell you that
a
woman will bring great change—”
    Ilona’s brows rose sharply. “You said nothing of a change before.”
    Lerin ignored the interruption. “—to your life, to the world, or both.”
    She struggled to keep her tone courteous. “But you can’t tell me when any of this will ocur. This storm, turning back, or the woman’s arrival?”
    “As you said, they were fragments.” The older diviner spread her hands. “I’m sorry, Ilona. I wish I could tell you more; I don’t mean to be vague with obscure predictions, like a charlatan. But you do know enough from this to recognize the moments when they arrive in your future.”
    Nothing more remained to be said or done. Ilona inclined her head in brief thanks, diviner to diviner, as she rose, and paid Lerin in the coin used among all diviners: The promise of a reading when Lerin desired one.
    Slipping through the tent flap, Ilona looked into the skies. A bright, brilliant blue, and cloudless. It was not a day for a storm of any sort, she felt, had it crimson lightning and steaming rain, or merely the kiss of moisture on her hair.
    Briefly she shook out her skirts, then set off toward the karavan grove. But ahead of her on the winding footpath she saw a familiar back. “Rhuan!” She hastened to catch up. “Rhuan—wait.”
    But as she reached him, as he swung around to face her, Ilona discovered that it wasn’t Rhuan after all. The expression was much more severe than she had ever seen Rhuan wear, feckless as he was; and every line of the body bespoke irritation.
    Embarrassment heated her face. “Oh—Brodhi. Forgive me; I thought you were Rhuan.”
    His eyes, like Rhuan’s, were brown. But there was no amusement, not even resignation in them. Brodhi’s tonewas clipped and cold. “We are not so much alike that we should be