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The Sharing Knife Volume Four Horizon Lois McMaster Bujold Contents Map The Drowntown day market was in full spate Fawn’s nostrils… Descending the steps to Drowntown, Berry shot a wide grin… Two days of cold rain masked Dag’s disinclination to travel… A half-mile walk, leading the horses, brought them all to… Dag’s apprenticeship began sooner than he or, he guessed, even… Dag mulishly chose to share Fawn’s ostracism, keeping to Arkady’s… On a bright day that breathed promise of an early… Fawn returned late one evening from the medicine tent along… The Oleana boys returned from patrol in a cold afternoon… 10 So, when are you going to tell her, Dag?” Arkady… 11 Fawn awoke tucked up under Dag’s left arm, so early… 12 After following Dag upstairs to watch him treat Sparrow, Fawn… 13 The departure in the morning from the smithy yard was… 14 Over the next few days Fawn was heartened to see… 15 A cracking thunderstorm, blowing in hard just before dawn, ended… 16 Dag was able to avoid the confrontation that night only… 17 By the time Fawn reached the Basswoods’ wagon, which was… 18 The malice stopped barely two hundred paces off, a little… 19 People had dreams about flying, Dag had heard He might… 20 Two hours after sunset, the lopsided moon rose to bathe… 21 The scent of a campfire, drifting in the chill dawn… 22 Dag found himself atop the low mound, clawing at the… 23 Dag woke in gray light to the sort of drowned… Epilogue Footsteps clumped on the stoop; at the knock on the… About the Author Other Books by Lois McMaster Bujold Credits Copyright About the Publisher Map The Drowntown day market was in full spate Fawn’s nostrils flared at the strong smells: fish, clams, critters with twitching legs like giant crawdads packed in seaweed; frying funnel cakes, boiling crabs, dried fruit, cheeses; piles of used clothing not well laundered; chickens, goats, sheep, horses Mixed with it all, the damp tang of the river Gray, stretching so wide its farther shore became a flat blur in the winter morning light The lead-colored water shimmered in silence beyond the bright busy blot of folks collected under the bluffs that divided Graymouth’s Uptown from its noisier—and, Fawn had to admit, more noisome—riverside The muddy banks were lined with flatboats at the ends of their journeys, keelboats preparing new starts, and fishing and coastal vessels that came and went more in rhythm with the still-ten-miles-distant sea than with the river’s moods The streets dodged crookedly around goods-sheds, rivermen’s taverns, and shacks —all built of dismantled flatboats, or, in some cases, not dismantled but drawn ashore intact on rollers by oxen and allowed to settle into the soil The owners of the latter claimed to be all ready for the next flood that would try, and fail, to wash the smells and mess of Drowntown out to sea, while Uptown looked down dry-skirted It seemed a strange way to live How had she ever thought of the rocky creek at the foot of her family’s farm back north as a river? Fawn shoved her basket up her arm, nudged her companion Remo, and pointed “Look! There’s some new Lakewalkers here this morning!” At the other end of the square, where all the bigger animals were displayed by their hopeful owners, two women and a man tended a string of half a dozen leggy horses The three all wore Lakewalker dress: riding trousers, sturdy boots, shirts and leather vests and jackets, not so different in kind from the farmers around them, yet somehow distinctive More distinctive was their hair, worn long in decorated braids, their height, and their air of discomfort to be surrounded by so many people who weren’t Lakewalkers Upon reflection, Fawn wondered if anyone else here realized the standoffishness was discomfort, or if they only thought it high-nosed disdain She would have seen it that way, once “Mm,” said Remo unenthusiastically “I suppose you want to go talk to them?” “Of course.” Fawn dragged him toward the far end of the market The man pulled a horse out of the string and held it for a farmer, who bent and ran his hands over its legs The two young women looked toward Fawn and Remo as they approached; their eyes widened a bit at Remo, whose height, clothes, and long black braid also proclaimed him a Lakewalker patroller Did their groundsenses reached out to touch the stranger-kinsman, or did they keep them closed against the painful ground noise of the surrounding farmers? The southern Lakewalkers Fawn had seen so far tended to lighter skin and hair than their northern cousins, and these two were no exception The taller woman—girl—she seemed not so very much older than Fawn, anyhow—had hair in a single thick plait as tawny as a bobcat pelt Her silvery-blue eyes were bright in her fine-boned face The shorter woman had red-brown braids wreathing her head, and coppery eyes in a round face dusted with freckles Fawn thought they might be patrol partners, like Remo and Barr; they seemed unlikely to be sisters “’Morning!” Fawn called cheerfully, looking up at them The top of her own dark curls came up just past the middle of Remo’s chest, and not much farther on these women At almost-nineteen, Fawn had given up hope of gaining further inches except maybe around, and resigned herself to a permanent crick in her neck The reddish-haired woman returned a nod; the bobcat blonde, seeming uncertain how to take the odd pair, addressed herself to a height halfway between them “’Morning You all interested in a horse? We’ve some real fine bloodstock, here Strong hooves One of these could carry a man all the way up the Tripoint Trace and never pull up lame.” She gestured toward the string, well brushed despite their winter coats, who gazed back and flicked their tufted ears Beyond, the Lakewalker man trotted the horse toward and away from the farmer, who stood hands on hips, frowning judiciously “I thought Lakewalkers only sold off their culls to farmers?” said Fawn innocently The redhead’s slight flinch was more from guilt than insult, Fawn thought Some horse traders Suppressing a grin, she went on: “Anyhow, no, at least not today What I was wondering was, what camp you folks hailed from, and if you have any real good medicine makers there.” The blonde replied at once, in a practiced-sounding tone, “Lakewalkers can’t treat farmers.” “Oh, I know all about that.” Fawn tossed her head “I’m not asking for myself.” Two braided heads turned toward Remo, who blushed Remo hated to blush, he’d said, because the awkwardness of it always made him blush worse than the original spur Fawn watched his deepening tinge with fascination She could not sense the flick of questing groundsenses, but she had no doubt that a couple went by just then “No, I’m not sick, either,” Remo said “It’s not for us.” “Are you two together?” asked the blonde, silver-blue eyes narrowing in a less friendly fashion Lovers together, Fawn guessed she meant to imply, which Lakewalkers were emphatically not supposed to be with farmers “Yes No! Not like that Fawn’s a friend,” said Remo “The wife of a friend,” he added in hasty emphasis “We still can’t help you Medicine makers can’t fool with farmers,” the redhead seconded her companion “Dag’s a Lakewalker.” Fawn shouldered forward, keeping herself from clutching the Lakewalker wedding braid circling her left wrist under her sleeve Or brandishing it, leading to the eternal explanation and defense of its validity “And he’s not sick.” Exactly “He used to be a patroller, but he thinks he has a calling now for making He already knows lots, and he can some, some amazing things, which is why he needs a real good guide, to help him along his next step.” Whatever it is Even Dag did not seem sure, to Fawn’s concerned eyes The blonde turned her confused face to Remo “You’re not from around these parts, are you? Are you an exchange patroller?” “Neeta,” said the redhead, with a proud gesture at the blonde, “is just back from two years’ exchange patrolling in Luthlia.” The blonde shrugged modestly “You don’t have to tell everyone we meet, Tavia.” “No, I’m not exchanging, exactly,” said Remo “We came down from Oleana on a flatboat, got here about a week back I’m, I’ve…” Fawn waited with grim interest to see how he would describe himself Run away from home? Deserted? Joined Captain Dag No-Camp’s muleheaded campaign to save the world from itself? He gulped, and fell back on, “My name’s Remo.” A tilt of the braid-wreathed head and a bouncing hand gesture invited him to continue with his tent and camp names, but he merely pressed his lips together in an unfelt smile Tavia shrugged, and went on, “We came down from New Moon Cutoff Camp yesterday to sell off some cu—horses, and to pick up the week’s courier packet.” Clearly identifying herself and her partner to this tall, dark, northern stranger as patroller women, carrying mail between camps being a patrol task Fawn wondered if she’d recognize patroller flirting if she saw it, and if it would be as dire as patroller humor “The best medicine maker in the district is at New Moon,” Tavia continued, “but I don’t think he’s taking apprentices.” “That would be Arkady Waterbirch?” Fawn hazarded “The one they say is a groundsetter?” That last had been a new term to Fawn, but the local Lakewalkers seemed to set great store by it At the redhead’s raised eyebrows she explained, “I’ve been asking around for the past few days, whenever I saw a Lakewalker in the market They always start by telling about the makers in their own camps, but they all end by mentioning this Arkady fellow.” Tavia nodded “Makes sense.” “Why is he not taking apprentices?” Fawn persisted All the medicine makers she’d ever met had seemed hungry to find new talent for their craft Well, unless that talent was trailing a farmer bride “Is he full up?” She added conscientiously, “Not that Dag’s looking to be an apprentice, necessarily He might just want to, um, talk.” The two women exchanged guarded looks Neeta said, “You’d think Arkady would be looking for a new apprentice, about now.” “I’m not so sure He was pretty upset about Sutaw He took a lot of shafts about it.” “He wasn’t even there!” “That’s the complaint that stings the most, I gather.” Uncertain if the girls would explain this camp gossip to a mere farmer, Fawn nudged Remo He cast her down a pained look, but dutifully asked, “What happened?” Tavia rubbed her round chin and frowned “A couple of months back, one of the youngsters at New Moon was badly mauled by a gator When his friends ran to the medicine tent for help, Arkady was out seeing another patient, so his apprentice Sutaw went to take the boy on He groundlocked himself, and died of the shock when the boy did.” Remo winced; Fawn quelled a chill in her belly Remo said, “Wasn’t there anyone else there to break the lock?” “The boy’s mother, but she waited too long Some other youngsters, but of course they couldn’t realize There was a lot of bad feeling, after, between the parents of the mauled boy and Sutaw’s tent-kin, but it’s pretty much settled ...The Sharing Knife Volume Four Horizon Lois McMaster Bujold Contents Map The Drowntown day market was in full spate Fawn’s nostrils…... flatboats, no doubt The houses and buildings looked substantial, less haphazardly cobbled together, free of high-water stains The people seemed not too different: boat bosses and goods-shed men, drivers