Human Company | Page 9

this morning," Amin said. "A bull broke out and chased everyone around."
"Did it?" When I glanced back, I saw Littlewolf and the other girls watching us leave.
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Amin sipped on her beer. It made my mouth pucker just to watch her. Women only drink it to prove they're women. They couldn't possibly like it.
"It's wrong that I was able to take you from the girls like that," she said.
"Wrong?"
"We should be sharing the boys, not fighting over them."
I sucked in my breath. Axeblade said bandits were saying things like that.
I glanced around. We were in a quiet corner of the Mechanic's Inn; no one was near. Still, this was dangerous talk. "Hush. Someone might hear."
"It's something that needs hearing."
"Are you a bandit?" I asked.
"Because I'm willing to discuss new ideas?"
"It's not the One Law."
She smiled. "So have the gypsies become defenders of the One Law then?"
I frowned. Where were my loyalties?
We had not always been gypsies, once we had been the caretakers of the elevators. Ferrying women and mechanicals into space had made us rich and powerful.
Afterwards, when the survivors blamed and persecuted us for the collapse of the Western Elevator, we used ancient powers to build the fortress at Towerhold. Hiding behind the great walls, we became an isolated and secretive people with our own ways and laws.
But after the farmers defeated the barbarian tribes in the war that ended the Troubles, they resolved that there would be no more wars. So they declared that all peoples of the land must follow the One Law. Fearful of the farmer's wrath, the sailors at Calmwater and the mechanics at Farhaven submitted. Only the caretakers, who thought ourselves safe behind our walls, resisted. But walls are not warriors: the farmers swarmed over them and took the city.
Still, we refused to bow to the One Law. We abandoned the Elevator and threatened to bring it down on the farmers' heads. But this only angered the farmers, who cast us out of the city and banned us from owning property. We became gypsies then, wandering about, doing odd jobs, telling fortunes, and creating mischief until the farmers drove us out of the land entirely. So now we were sailors, living at sea beyond the reach of the farmers' army.
No, the gypsies would not defend the One Law. But I was a gypsy by birth only: I had been raised by Axeblade after being rescued from a shipwreck. The One Law was what I had been taught; I had nothing gypsy except the cards.
"It's still bandit talk," I said. "Axeblade says there will be fighting soon."
Amin fell quiet, sipping on her beer and looking thoughtful, so to change the subject, I looked at Tiny. "Axeblade says you can have your job back."
She shook her head. "Saratan says the sisters have a school in Calmwater, she says I should go."
"Sisters?"
"Human girls, we have to stick together."
"Human girls," Amin said. "There's a case where the One Law is hardly fair. They're too small to compete."
"There's more to it than the competitions," I objected. "The boys get to decide."
"Oh? Was it your choice to be with farmers? I heard you were looking for warriors."
"You got it wrong. I'm looking for help with the Elevator."
"The Elevator? Don't you need a gypsy company then?"
I shrugged. "Do you know one?"
"Not personally," she said. "But their ships stop at Calmwater often enough."
I noticed that her eyes were locked intently on mine. What was she getting at?
"What good does that do me?" I asked.
"You could come to Calmwater with us."
I wanted to. The gypsies were a mystery: why weren't they already doing something? Surely, they knew the Elevator was falling. If I could just talk to them. We could raise a company.
I sighed. "Axeblade wouldn't let me go."
"So don't tell her," Amin said.
CHAPTER 3
-- TRAVELERS

The trouble with running away is they make you get up too early. I should have rested when I reached my hiding place, but nervous energy made my idle fingers select a card, and now I had to worry about it too.
And I was distracted by cracking whips, snorting horses, and creaking harnesses -- sounds of heavily loaded wagons -- that broke the morning stillness. The noise grew louder as the caravan approached and soon teams of four, sometimes six, horses pulled wagon after wagon past my hiding place.
The wagons groaned under the weight of furs and leather, cheese and grain, salted pork and beef. No great treasure, just mountain goods purchased at the fair for the markets on the coast. Yet hard looking guards walked alongside the wagons. These merchants meant to deliver their goods. Bandits beware, they declared.
For a while, I watched them from behind the bushes, but the yellow rays from the morning sun hurt my eyes, so I leaned back against the tree and let