Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(6)

They climbed past shadowed roofs and doorways. She was beginning to feel her sleepless night, and she would not rest again for hours. She replayed the grandfather’s words in her mind. His accent was like the man’s, the Lienid man’s in the courtyard.

———

In the end, she did carry him, for when the time came she couldn’t wake him up. She passed the horse’s reins to a child crouched beside the wall, a girl whose father was a friend of the Council. Katsa tipped the old man over her shoulder and staggered, one step at a time, up the rubble of the broken stairway. The final stretch was practically vertical. Only the threat of the lightening sky kept her going; she’d never imagined that a man who looked like he was made of dust could be so heavy.

She had no breath to produce the low whistle that was to be her signal to Raffin, but it didn’t matter. He heard her approach.

“The whole city has likely heard your approach,” he whispered. “Honestly, Kat, I wouldn’t have expected you to be capable of such a racket.” He bent down and eased her load onto his own thin shoulders. She leaned against the wall and caught her breath.

“My Grace doesn’t give me the strength of a giant,” she said. “You Ungraced don’t understand. You think if we have one Grace, we have them all.”





“I’ve tasted your cakes, and I remember the needlework you used to do. I’ve no question a good number of Graces have passed you over.” He laughed down at her in the gray light, and she smiled back. “It went as planned?”

She thought of the Lienid in the courtyard. “Yes, for the most.”

“Go now,” he said, “and safely. I’ll take care of this one.”

He turned and crept inside with his living bundle. She raced down the broken steps and slipped onto a pathway leading east. She pulled her hood low, and ran toward the pink sky.





CHAPTER THREE




Katsa ran past houses and work shacks, shops and inns. The city was waking, and the streets smelled of baking bread. She ran past the milkman, half asleep on his cart, his horse sighing before him.

She felt light without her burden, and the road sloped downward. She ran quietly and fast into the eastern fields and kept running. A woman carried buckets across a farmyard, the handles hanging from a yoke balanced on her shoulder.

When the trees began, Katsa slowed. She had to move carefully now, lest she break branches or leave boot prints and create a trail straight to the meeting place. Already the way looked a bit traveled. Oll and Giddon and the others on the Council were never as careful as she, and of course the horses couldn’t help creating a path. They would need a new meeting place soon.

By the time she broke into the thicket that was their hideout, it was daylight. The horses grazed. Giddon lay on the ground. Oll leaned against a pile of saddlebags. Both men were asleep.

Katsa choked down her annoyance and passed to the horses. She greeted the animals and lifted their hooves, one by one, to check for cracks and gravel. They’d done well, the horses, and at least they knew better than to fall asleep in the forest, so close to the city and such a great distance from where Randa supposed them to be. Her own mount whickered, and Oll stirred behind her.

“And if someone had discovered you,” she said, “sleeping at the edge of the forest when you were supposed to be halfway to the eastern border?” She spoke into her saddle and scratched her horse’s shoulder. “What explanation would you have given?”

“I didn’t mean to sleep, My Lady,” Oll replied.

“That’s no comfort.”

“We don’t all have your stamina, My Lady, especially those of us with gray hair. Come now, no harm was done.” He shook Giddon, who responded by covering his eyes with his hands. “Wake up, My Lord. We’d best be moving.”

Katsa said nothing. She hung her saddlebags and waited by the horses. Oll brought the remaining saddlebags and fastened them in place. “Prince Tealiff is safe, My Lady?”

“He’s safe.”

Giddon stumbled over, scratching his brown beard. He unwrapped a loaf of bread and held it out to her, but she shook her head. “I’ll eat later,” she said.

Giddon broke off a piece and handed the loaf to Oll. “Are you angry that we weren’t performing strength exercises when you arrived, Katsa? Should we have been doing gymnastics in the treetops?”

“You could’ve been caught, Giddon. You could’ve been seen, and then where would you be?”

“You would’ve thought of some story,” Giddon said. “You would’ve saved us, like you do everyone else.” He smiled, his warm eyes lighting up a face that was confident and handsome but that failed to please Katsa at the moment.

Giddon was younger even than Raffin, strong, and a good rider. He had no excuse for sleeping.

“Come, My Lord,” Oll said. “Let’s eat our bread in the saddle. Otherwise our lady will leave without us.”

She knew they teased her. She knew they thought her too critical. But she also knew she wouldn’t have allowed herself to sleep when it was unsafe to do so.

Then again, they would never have allowed the Graceling Lienid to live. If they knew, they’d be furious, and she wouldn’t be able to offer any rational excuse.

They wound their way to one of the forest paths that paralleled the main road and set out eastward. They pulled their hoods low and pushed the horses hard. After a few minutes, the pounding of hooves surrounding her, Katsa’s irritation diminished. She couldn’t be worried for long when she was moving.