it’d make a good excuse to see Recks dressed as a girl one more time.
I walked to the market with a swing in my step. The weight of the potato sack across my back was no more than a feather to me. I would’ve had trouble hiding my smile if it’d not been for the billa . Dine wasn’t far behind me, and I reminded myself to walk, not skip like I felt doing. He’d know something was amiss. I never skipped, never danced or sang, but I felt like doing all those things. One day I would. I felt it. Even the thought of Dine behind me couldn’t bring me down. Soon his scraggly beard and chipped gray teeth would be just a bad dream.
I went straight to the weaver’s booth not worrying about whether they would take the potatoes or not. A merry tune filled the air. Most people crowded around the performers again. My happiness melted away when I saw Dine walking to the Tale Teller’s show out of the corner of my eye. There, he joined Shel, who brayed a laugh. She didn’t worry me. She’d never seen Recks. Most people hadn’t. I held my breath and hoped Dine hadn’t either. Only Tow might be able to tell.
Ever since the prisoners’ escape, Tow kept to himself, rarely socializing with anyone. His standing in Roma had fallen. Even Dine sent me to Tow’s less often. There was talk of him moving on. Maybe he already had.
I ignored the cloth vendor. Instead, I watched the Tale Tellers. This time, Recks also acted out a part of his own, carrying a goat-hoof rattle, which he shook at various points in the story. I smiled at his dress, but no one else noticed his heavy eyebrows or his cracking voice.
When the tale was finished and the crowd wandered away, Dine stayed by the colorful wagon, talking to the blond man. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Dine gesture to the gray horse tied to the front of the wagon. How could I warn Recks? Dine recognized the horse just as I had.
There was little I could do. Recks stood too close to Dine. If I approached him now, I risked exposing him. I strained to hear them, but I was too far away. Maybe if I edged closer, pretending to need to speak to Dine, I could at least hear what was going on. I inched across the market toward them. Dine and the blond man raised their voices. I knew the pinched quality in Dine’s voice meant he was growing angry.
“I only asked you where you got it,” Dine said.
“Just a man on the road,” said the blond man even louder.
“This is a Reticent’s horse. It’s stolen!”
“Rubbish! I’ve never met a Reticent in my life.”
“That’s what I’m saying, fool! You bought it from a thief, you idiot!”
The Tale Teller’s wife stood next to him, growing more and more flustered. “No, we didn’t,” she sputtered. “We bought it from him.” She pointed a finger at Recks. Everyone froze: Dine because he was confused and the woman because she realized what she’d done. She giggled nervously.
“I mean, her.”
Without a word, Dine reached up and yanked Recks’s flaming red hair off his head. Dine swung hard at Recks’s jaw, but Recks ducked. Dine smashed his fist into the side of the wagon. With a quick tug on the knot in the horse’s rope, Recks untied the animal and leapt onto its back, kicking it hard. The horse reared and neighed. People scattered. Dine grabbed for Recks, but the horse moved away, threatening to stomp Dine with its giant hooves. Recks wheeled the horse around in circles, looking for an escape route. His eyes landed on me, and he steered the horse in my direction as if to run me over.
Confused, I dropped the potatoes and stumbled back. Recks caught me with an arm under mine and pulled me up on the side of the horse. My billa fell off, and I screamed more in surprise than fear. Recks never let go. He pulled hard on me until I was upright on the horse. The animal galloped like a demon fleeing the light. Behind us, Dine screamed in rage, but soon it was no more than the caw of a crow.
The sunlight blinded me, but I
I walked to the market with a swing in my step. The weight of the potato sack across my back was no more than a feather to me. I would’ve had trouble hiding my smile if it’d not been for the billa . Dine wasn’t far behind me, and I reminded myself to walk, not skip like I felt doing. He’d know something was amiss. I never skipped, never danced or sang, but I felt like doing all those things. One day I would. I felt it. Even the thought of Dine behind me couldn’t bring me down. Soon his scraggly beard and chipped gray teeth would be just a bad dream.
I went straight to the weaver’s booth not worrying about whether they would take the potatoes or not. A merry tune filled the air. Most people crowded around the performers again. My happiness melted away when I saw Dine walking to the Tale Teller’s show out of the corner of my eye. There, he joined Shel, who brayed a laugh. She didn’t worry me. She’d never seen Recks. Most people hadn’t. I held my breath and hoped Dine hadn’t either. Only Tow might be able to tell.
Ever since the prisoners’ escape, Tow kept to himself, rarely socializing with anyone. His standing in Roma had fallen. Even Dine sent me to Tow’s less often. There was talk of him moving on. Maybe he already had.
I ignored the cloth vendor. Instead, I watched the Tale Tellers. This time, Recks also acted out a part of his own, carrying a goat-hoof rattle, which he shook at various points in the story. I smiled at his dress, but no one else noticed his heavy eyebrows or his cracking voice.
When the tale was finished and the crowd wandered away, Dine stayed by the colorful wagon, talking to the blond man. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Dine gesture to the gray horse tied to the front of the wagon. How could I warn Recks? Dine recognized the horse just as I had.
There was little I could do. Recks stood too close to Dine. If I approached him now, I risked exposing him. I strained to hear them, but I was too far away. Maybe if I edged closer, pretending to need to speak to Dine, I could at least hear what was going on. I inched across the market toward them. Dine and the blond man raised their voices. I knew the pinched quality in Dine’s voice meant he was growing angry.
“I only asked you where you got it,” Dine said.
“Just a man on the road,” said the blond man even louder.
“This is a Reticent’s horse. It’s stolen!”
“Rubbish! I’ve never met a Reticent in my life.”
“That’s what I’m saying, fool! You bought it from a thief, you idiot!”
The Tale Teller’s wife stood next to him, growing more and more flustered. “No, we didn’t,” she sputtered. “We bought it from him.” She pointed a finger at Recks. Everyone froze: Dine because he was confused and the woman because she realized what she’d done. She giggled nervously.
“I mean, her.”
Without a word, Dine reached up and yanked Recks’s flaming red hair off his head. Dine swung hard at Recks’s jaw, but Recks ducked. Dine smashed his fist into the side of the wagon. With a quick tug on the knot in the horse’s rope, Recks untied the animal and leapt onto its back, kicking it hard. The horse reared and neighed. People scattered. Dine grabbed for Recks, but the horse moved away, threatening to stomp Dine with its giant hooves. Recks wheeled the horse around in circles, looking for an escape route. His eyes landed on me, and he steered the horse in my direction as if to run me over.
Confused, I dropped the potatoes and stumbled back. Recks caught me with an arm under mine and pulled me up on the side of the horse. My billa fell off, and I screamed more in surprise than fear. Recks never let go. He pulled hard on me until I was upright on the horse. The animal galloped like a demon fleeing the light. Behind us, Dine screamed in rage, but soon it was no more than the caw of a crow.
The sunlight blinded me, but I
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