The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

spine. He searched the people around him as best he could without drawing any more attention their way and found nothing but smiling merchants hoping to catch his eye, bored soldiers, and the odd surprised look when a passerby spotted Shura. Ravi shuffled behind him, his head bowed and hood up. He’d switched back to the better quality borrowed cloak and boots that morning, so he looked like any other servant trudging through his daily labors and was largely ignored, with Shura drawing most of the mildly curious looks.

Daks could have blamed the sensation of being watched on her, but he didn’t spot anyone actually staring. One of the reasons they’d decided on Traget was because visiting Cigani merchants weren’t unheard of in the market. She shouldn’t have been that much of an anomaly, yet the itch between his shoulders persisted.

Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he gave up all pretense of being sneaky and boldly searched their surroundings. He didn’t spot the man until his second pass around the market. Leaning against the side of an inn, several merchant stalls behind them, stood a tall, red-bearded older man in plain homespun clothing, holding a tankard in one hand while his other rested on the hip of the rather pretty dark-haired youth pressed to his side. After studying the man for a few seconds, Daks realized the jerk was staring at one member of their group in particular, but it wasn’t Shura.

Scowling, Daks dropped back to stand closer to Ravi, blocking the red-beard’s view. The man met Daks’s gaze with bright, amused green eyes, and the bloody bastard actually winked. Ravi let out a startled noise when Daks dragged him against his side, but Daks didn’t take his eyes off the red-beard. He glared hard at the man, but that only made the bastard’s grin widen.

In a parting gesture he hoped red-beard understood, Daks also bared his teeth, but in a much less pleasant manner. With Ravi still clamped to his side, he began pushing more forcefully through the crowd.

Pimp, procurer, slaver, or just horny old goat, whatever red-beard was, he’d need to find some other lamb to pounce on.

By the time they reached the ferry landing, Daks was sweating hard, and Ravi had pulled away from him, giving him a confused scowl. That was fine with Daks. Ravi could stay angry until they were all safely in Samebar. Shura lifted her eyebrows at him, but he gave her the look that said they’d talk about it later.

“How many?” the thin little man taking the coins at the landing asked in trade tongue, not bothering to look up from his tally slate.

“Four and a horse,” Daks replied, palming the sad little pile of coins left in their purse.

The man glanced up at him then, assessing before cocking his head to study Daks’s companions. “Four coppers a head, and a silver for the horse,” he said in a monotone.

Daks gave a purely internal wince. He hoped Eben would be fine with taking credit for their stay at his inn, because Daks really didn’t want to give up that horse. A beast like that was worth at least twenty times that much. He’d take the cost out of his own salary when he reached Scholoveld.

“Done,” Daks said begrudgingly as he counted out the coins for the three of them and the horse.

Then Fara stepped forward to hand over her portion.

“We can only take two of you now, and not the horse,” the man added, after taking their coin, and Daks tensed.

He glanced in confusion at the few people who’d been ahead of them in line and at the number of people still disembarking the sizable ferry.

“Why?”

The man tipped his chin toward a large, heavily-laden wagon in a fenced yard behind him. “That goes on first thing. Merchant paid extra last night.”

As he spoke, a man in plain but quality wool clothing led a large horse toward the wagon and began hitching it up.

“If you want to go together, you’ll have to wait for the next one.”

The man holding the slate returned Daks’s glare with a bored stare of his own, and Daks was sorely tempted to wipe that bland expression off his face, but he held his temper. Too many guards around.

“What’s wrong?” Shura asked in Cigani at his elbow.

“He says only two of us can cross now, and not with the horse,” he replied in the same language.

Shura threw a glare at the man too, which seemed to have a slightly better effect, but he still lifted his chin stubbornly and waved for the people in line behind them to come forward, calling, “First ferry is full. Taking payment for the next.”

The couple behind them, a young man and woman in plain homespun carrying bundles of pastries, eyed them warily as they took a few nervous steps forward, and Daks took pity on them and stepped to the side.

“You go. Take the Seer with you. Fara and I will follow with the horse,” Shura said as soon as they were out of the way.

Daks shook his head. He didn’t like the thought of separating now, even for only a couple of hours. They were so close to the safety of their home kingdom, but a very large body of water separated the two. He wouldn’t be able to come charging back to help if anything happened.

“You need to get him out of here,” she said, tossing a look at Ravi. “You know this. So then it is either you or I who must go with him, and I—” She hesitated and cast a furtive, almost shy glance toward Fara. “I would prefer to stay and go on the second ferry.”

Daks was tempted to tease her, but one narrow-eyed glare from her stopped him. “I don’t like it,” he said uselessly.

“Neither do I. But this is the best we have. He is the reason we rush. There may be no pain priests here, but there are plenty of soldiers. And if