Savage Empire

He soon climbed into hilly country, the patches of woodland melting into forest. If he could get to the rocky hills by nightfall, he could find a place to hide and sleep. But could he keep riding till nightfall? He was having difficulty Reading the road ahead while guiding his horse over the bad stretches. His concentration was faulty. He sneezed again. His head felt vaguely disconnected from his body.

This road was not well traveled; he had made a fortunate choice. How far did Aradia's influence extend? Would she alert other Adepts to a Reader at large in their lands?

She had called him her property. Had she been hiding his existence from other Adepts? He cursed himself for not asking Aradia or Wulfston more about how the savages were organized. Was there any kind of central leadership? The empire assumed on one hand that they were a mindless force-yet on the other that they all shared the single purpose of destroying the empire.

Granted, Lenardo had spent most of his time in Aradia's castle asleep; but still, she had asked him very little about the empire. She wanted him to work with her, she said, never us. Riding through her lands today, he had Read none of the squalor, hunger, or fear he had found in the lands near the border.

The information contradicted everything he knew-or was it just that he could not Read well now? His head was spinning. He pulled his horse off the road, found a sunny break in the wood, and almost fell off the animal. In moments, he was asleep on the soft grass.

Lenardo woke to the sense of someone staring at him. Three people, he found: a man of middle years and two youths enough like him to be his sons. All three wore nothing but knee-length tunics. They spoke, but while Lenardo recognized the savage language, their dialect was so different from Aradia's that he caught only a word or two. I must have crossed a border.

His head ached, he couldn't breathe through his nose, and as he leaped to his feet, a wave of dizziness made him stumble. He was caught, and the older man took his sword while the two boys supported him. All the while the man kept saying something that he finally recognized as "It's all right. You're safe here."

He had no strength to fight; it was easiest to believe they spoke truth as they half-carried him through the woods to a small house in a clearing. Here were a woman, a girl of perhaps twelve, and two small children playing in the sunshine. All were sturdy, healthy, cheerful.

In organized pandemonium, the family bustled about, putting Lenardo to bed in the one large room of the house, in the only bed. The noise of their chattering kept him awake long enough to drink the hot spiced cider the woman brought him and to look around. The house was simple, dirt-floored with clean rushes spread about. There was a loft overhead. A fireplace of plain brick occupied most of one wall-a sign of some affluence for peasants. A few iron utensils hung on the well-plastered walls. Everything was unadorned, efficient, yet they seemed to be in no want of life's necessities. Nor could he Read any hostility in them-curiosity, even pity, but nothing to indicate that he was not safe.

Since they had not removed his shirt, Lenardo knew they had not seen either the brand on his arm or the wolf's-head pendant-why had he not thrown that into a ditch somewhere along the way? His right hand was still unnaturally pale, but they didn't seem to have noticed. He remembered the bandits' fear of Aradia and the strange emotions her name aroused in Arkus-even if he was away from her lands, he might not have escaped her influence.

When the woman came to take his cup, Lenardo said, "Thank you. I cannot stay here, though. I have no way to repay you."

The woman shushed him with reassuring noises, of which he understood only one word, "sleep." Seeing that he didn't understand, she pressed his shoulders down onto the pillow, repeating, "Sleep."

Reading her, he found no hint of Adept power. He was too exhausted to go on. At least he was temporarily safe here. After a few hours in a comfortable bed…

He woke to the sound of hoofbeats and chattering. Before he could move, the door opened to admit Wulfston. The man and woman were with him, babbling in their strange dialect. He seemed to understand them, but he spoke to them in his normal language. "You have done well. This is, indeed, the man Aradia is seeking. She will not forget your service." He dropped some copper corns into their hands. "Now let me speak with him alone."