Chapter 13 - Mules

It was well before dawn when Mackinley woke. She didn't know if it was routine or nerves or excitement that had her up before her Master called, but she knew that she needed to get it under control if it was the latter so that she could show nothing but the emotions she wanted people to see. She chuckled, remembering a time when she was forced to conceal her emotions, a time when Mistress Sheleigh or the other girls would taunt her or beat her. She doubted that she would have been as good with concealing her emotions if it hadn't been for that life.

It was the day she and Master Garvin were to meet the Guildmaster. She didn't really know what their task was, Garvin had handled all of the negotiations and discussion and Mackinley had been focused on maintaining her calm. She would never admit it but she was definitely nervous. The city made her nervous with all the people hustling and bustling. Leaving the Hushai training grounds made her nervous. Guildmaster Solomon made her cross and a little bit fearful as he reminded her of a life she hoped never to have to return to. Even Master Garvin made her nervous: she felt like she had hardly spent any time with the man and here she was travelling with him to places she'd never even heard of. She found herself wishing that Daram, Rosh or one of the others were along, she would even take Tarq on this journey just to have someone familiar along.

In the pre-dawn silence she poured cold water from the jug into the washbasin and washed her face and cleaned her teeth, then she dressed, pulled up the rough spun blanket on the small bed she'd slept in and packed her things. When Master Garvin tapped on her door she was ready, picking up her pack and taking the pudao from where she had leaned it next to the door she gave him a silent nod and padded silently along.

She glanced once at the building that housed the Clothmakers' guildmaster and silently wished for Jonas and Thaddeus to have good fortune and finds with their wares before accepting the reins to her horse and falling into step beside Master Garvin. If the older man noticed her glance he said nothing. The streets were empty in the pre-dawn, only the odd street vendor setting up his cart and a few beggars slept shivering against posts or walls. It was different, Mackinley noted: the streets were empty and quiet, the shop doors closed, the bustle of people was missing but she knew in the shadows of the allies there were still street kids and thieves watching the few people who were out and about, wondering if there was a way to earn or steal a coin. It wasn't much for Mackinley to wonder if she'd have been better off living on the streets than in places like Payton Hall. She supposed that if she hadn't been at Payton Hall she might never have been chosen. She smiled inwardly, now that she had been, it would be a cold day in hell when she'd give it up.

The followed a different path again than the one they had walked the day before. Another trick the Hushai training masters had taught them: vary your path so that if you are followed that it is less likely a trap can be set. These streets wound through wealthier streets: she saw the sign for a tailor and a weaver and another for a clockmaker. The last was not something she'd ever encountered before and found herself stopping in front of the glass window peering in at the display. The wealth of the shopkeeper was obvious because he even had glass windows: most did not; also in the wares that he displayed. The craftsmanship of the clock that stood only half as long as her forearm was like magic with is miniature details: a man and a woman danced across a tiny walkway that wound inside and disappeared only to reappear moments later. Her horse's impatient snort drew her attention to the fact that her companion was still moving.

Halfway down the temple road she sensed rather than saw someone watching them. Instinctively she gripped her pudao tighter and settled into a gait that allowed for easier swing of the weapon; she glanced at her master and wondered how to signal the man but the tiniest movement of his head had her relaxing. As they continued the feeling of being watched disappeared. As the first dawn light appeared a caravan of wagons became visible as they approached Guildmaster Solomon's offices.

The Guildmaster was eating a roll that dripped honey out one end over the shoulder of his chief steward while the other man checked the wagons and compared to a list that was held against a rough board. The honey dripped onto the parchment and turned the spot into a sticky mess that the steward carefully avoided sticking his hand it. It didn't help that the man wrote with his left hand: he should have smeared the sticky sweet liquid over the whole page as he wrote but Mackinley realized this must be a regular occurrence when instead of smearing it, the man simply lifted his wrist a little higher holding the quill he wrote with a little more erect. "Is all here Guildmaster," the man's voice was soft as he handled the parchment to the larger man. Solomon wiped his sticky hands on his tunic and took the roll, "Four wagons laden with wares."

"Very good," the Guildmaster spoke around another bite of his roll. "Let's be off then." He gave no instruction or introduction to the Hushai. Mackinley bristled underneath carefully controlled features, liking the man even less.

"Which are your guards and hostlers?" Master Garvin asked.

"The men standing beside the beasts are the hostlers, the guards will catch up after their breakfast." Solomon snapped irritably, and to the hostlers he said, "Get on up."

"Hold." Master Garvin's tone was sharp and left no room for disobedience, Mackinley managed to conceal the smirk she felt twitching her cheeks remembering the first time the Master had spoken thus to her. She hadn't been able to move even when she wanted to. The Guildmaster turned on the Hushai, his face mottling red and purple and he was sputtered angrily, "Until the guard is here it is not safe to move, there were four men on this last block alone that pose a threat to the caravan. It would be foolish to leave them any opening and while Hushai are known for their skill even I, a Hushai Master would not be able to defend so many wagons on my own should we be attacked."

The Guildmaster started, "Thieves? This close to the warehouse?" He stabbed a meaty finger at the steward, "Tell the guards to get their lazy back ends out here immediately and order a guard to stand round the clock." The steward bowed and left. The Guildmaster turned his attention to the Hushai, "Now as I was saying, each wagon as one guard with the driver and two that will ride with the wagon, one to either side. You and your....trainee may go wherever you deem necessary Hushai Master Garvin. We are very grateful to have had you come to our call yourself, and to bring another Hushai, even a trainee is a great honor for the Merchant guild."

"Very well Guildmaster: Junior Hushai Mackinley is very skilled, she will do her job very well."

"She?" Solomon's face was red again, "Absolutely not, it is unseemly for a woman to ride with the caravan."

It had not ever occurred to Mackinley that her choice to wear men's attire would have people mistaking her for a boy, then she remembered that when they had met the Guildmaster her hair had been braided and coiled under a hat. Garvin shrugged, "Then I shall return your fee expect for the allowed amounts for our trouble and bid you good day and safe travel."

"You cannot suggest that we travel without a Hushai."

"I do." Garvin told him, "Junior Hushai Mackinley is my charge, if she does not attend this journey than I do not either. It will take three weeks for a suitable replacement to arrive, should you wish to have a Hushai attend I will be pleased to make the arrangements."

"We cannot wait three weeks!" Solomon ragged, "The chit can remain here."

Garvin pulled himself up to full height and leveled his eyes directly into the Guildmaster's eyes, "I realize the Guildmaster is not familiar with Hushai custom, so let me explain. A Junior Hushai who is on mission may never be unaccompanied by their Master. At the time of the contract Guildmaster, you agreed to accept the Junior Hushai as a part of the arrangement and as such Junior Hushai Mackinley is on mission. As her Master, therefore I must remain with Junior Hushai Mackinley." Solomon seethed.

Mackinley held herself ready for anything, noting that the guards had arranged themselves loosely behind her. She was no longer holding the reins to her horse, but held her pudao lightly, her feet ready to move if they struck. Master Garvin did not relinquish his command, "Fine," Solomon spat, "the chit may come, but she may not come near me, ever."

The guards began to move to their mounts, "Junior Hushai, you have heard the order: under no circumstances are you to go near the Guildmaster: we will ride near the third wagon."

"Yes Master," the girl nodded. She'd almost hopped Solomon would have been foolish enough to push Garvin more. She mounted and took her place beside the head of the third wagon.

"I'm Felix, beggin' yer pardon miss," the wagon driver said softly, "the mules be Jack and Jill, the ol'man is no al'ays this hard, but 'tis'is culture that women-folk has a place."

"Well met Felix, you can call me Mac," Mackinley nodded at the driver, "are all the wagons pulled by mules?"

"Yes'm," Felix tugged his own forelock, "steady lads and lasses wi'no a care when there's noise aboot."

Mac nodded and took a swig of water, "Have you done this run before?"

"Twenty or more times, miss," Felix told her, "ne'er seen hisself as spoked aboot the journey afore neither. Lost hisself much on those last runs."

With a nod Mackinley filed the information away. Ahead the wagons began to move and Felix clucked his pair into action.