Free Magic Casement by Dave Duncan

harbor were fourteen hairpins. Going down was easier
than coming up with a load, but it was still tricky. Rap had watched it done
often enough, but he had never been allowed to handle brake and reins in the
town. It was odd that Hononin had not known that.
    The
first two were easy, but he breathed a hearty sigh of relief when they had
rounded the third, which was canted steeply. A wagon out of control could be
almost as bad as a shipwreck. He was aware that Lin was watching him closely and
hanging on very tight with his good hand. Fortunately it was still very early
and there were almost no pedestrians around to mangle.
    Four
and five were not too bad. Six was a horror, with the wagon standing on its
head above the team, wheels scratching on cobbles. Too close to the wall, the
unloaded, too-light rig started to slither sideways. Rap discovered that he was
soaked with sweat and needed two more hands than the Gods had given him.
    The
next one was the worst.
    He
was going to catch the tide. He was not going to make a mess of this. If he
failed he would never forgive himself, and Hononin would never trust him again.
And Inos would hear how he’d run over pedestrians or smashed up a wagon
or even knocked in the side of a house and killed horses-it happened sometimes.
Trust yourself, his mother had said. If you don’t, who will? He yelped,
pulled the reins, tightened the brake, and the rig stopped. Silence. Lin looked
at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”
    Rap
wiped an arm across his streaming forehead. He was panting as if led run all
the way up from sea to castle. “Listen!” Lin listened and his eyes
widened-clopping hooves and the rumble of iron on cobbles. Then it grew
suddenly louder and another team appeared ahead of them, crawling round bend
number seven, horses wide-eyed and steaming, hugging the buildings to have room
to swing their load through the curve. Then came the wagon, with the driver
shouting curses and a load of new peat dribbling water off the back. Nasty
stuff, fresh peat. It was heavy and it could shift, but peat couldn’t be
stacked over the winter in that climate, so the first loads were always still
wet.
    “Boy,
if wed met that...” Lin said, and shivered. Sometimes it could take hours
to straighten out a meeting on one of the bends, backing the load down the hill
jackknifing it, even.
    The
oncoming team straightened up and began to move faster.
    Iki
was, the driver. He grinned and then showed surprise when he saw ony Rap and
Lin. Struck dumb by the thrumming of wheels, he pointed back down the hill and
held up one finger. Rap nodded and signaled zero and tried to look as if he did
this all the time. Then Iki had gone and Rap reached for the brake again.
    “Rap!”
Lin said. “How did you know?”
    Rap
hesitated. How had he known? His own team had been making far too much noise
for him to have heard. Could the horses have heard and sent him a signal with
their ears, a signal that he had seen without knowing? Not likely at all. Could
he have caught a reflection in a window? The sun was shining on the windows, so
that was not very likely, either. But he had known. He had been quite certain
that there was a wagon coming at that corner. That was rather an eerie feeling.
How had he known?
    “Just
one of the things you youngsters have to learn,” he said.
    “You
go scout for me.”
    Lin
made an obscene suggestion. He studied Rap with a very puzzled expression for a
moment before jumping down and heading for the corner.
    They
were losing time. Lin was clumsy with only one good arm, and Rap had to stop
dead each time he needed to come aboard, then stop again to let him off before
the next hairpin. They finally met the second wagon between twelve and
thirteen, and then it was a fast run down to the harbor.
    There
were few ships there that day. The sun blazed hard from quicksilver water, the
gulls were bobbing and preening, and the air bore the tangy scent of fish and
seaweed. A very slight breeze was