The Book of Forbidden Wisdom by Gillian Murray Kendall Page B

and then stopped.
    â€œIt’s obvious what we’ve done,” I said.
    â€œThere wasn’t much choice,” said Trey.
    â€œWhat are we doing?” asked Silky.
    â€œFurther down there are reed beds and floating islands of wild hassow,” I said. “I’ve been this way before. We’ll be hard to find—­they’ll be searching the other side to see where we came out of the river.”
    â€œWhere are we coming out of the river?” asked Silky. “The packhorse is shivering already. I’m shivering, too. So you know.”
    â€œIt won’t be for a while,” I said. “First thing, we need to get around that bend in the river, or they’ll see us the minute they break through the trees. The moon isn’t helping. And couldn’t you have picked a bay pony, Silky? Your Squab doesn’t exactly blend in.”
    â€œSquab is perfect, ” said Silky.
    â€œNot now, Silky,” I said, and my voice was grim. “We have to go carefully. They’re almost close enough to hear us.”
    We moved through the water.
    â€œWe could outrun them,” said Silky.
    â€œOn Squab?” Trey said to her. “Your pony’s a pet, Silky; he’s not built for speed.”
    â€œHe’s built exactly right, ” said Silky.
    â€œQuiet,” I said.
    We were very near the bend in the river now. All I could hear was the swish, swish of the horses moving through the shallows. My fear of leaving my home had been replaced by desperation to get away, to escape the land and marriage laws that would seal my life—­or my shameful death.
    The fireflies were gone, and the moon was cold—­everything was bathed in chilly silver light. There was no solace in the night, and still, still the moon didn’t care.
    I was nobody now. No better than a vagabond. I had brought money, yes, but money was nothing when compared to land. I felt this was easier for Trey because he was land-­poor. I had come from a Great House and thought my fall was greater.
    I knew nothing.
    Swish, swish. Rivulets and waves of silver. But no night birds or singing frogs or even the plop of fish rising for insects. The night, except for the sound of horses moving through water, was silent.
    We were at the bend in the river.
    I turned. The torches continued to bob among the trees, but then, just as we were beginning to round the bend, the band of riders broke out of the woods. They gathered together for a moment, as if to confer about their course of action. Luckily they hadn’t seen us yet, but once one of them looked in our direction, our movement would give us away.
    I pulled up Jasmine.
    â€œGet ahead, Silky,” I said. “Bran will shield that light-­colored Squab of yours. It’s not far now.”
    I could see a knot of riders go down to the riverbank, break up and cast about as if they had lost the trail. We had moments, if we were lucky.
    The riders held their torches high above their heads, and, even at that distance, I could make out some familiar forms. I saw Kalo, tall, broad, grim, suddenly wheel his horse around and whip it to the place where we had entered the water. Close behind him was our land steward, Farnam.
    And at Kalo’s side, his face a mask of darkness, was Leth.
    So.
    It was possible he still harbored hopes I would trade knowledge of The Book of Forbidden Wisdom for a patched-­up marriage with him. But, more likely, he saw my flight as a betrayal and wanted to ruin me. For disloyalty. For disobedience. And, if he found out about Trey’s role in my escape, for harlotry.
    Trey followed my line of sight.
    â€œI’m sorry, Angel,” he said.
    â€œIt would have been better not to know he was riding with them,” I said.
    â€œMaybe he’s there to try and make sure they don’t hurt us,” said Silky.
    â€œI assume you mean before the executions,” I said drily.
    â€œAngel,” said