Free Deep Water by Pamela Freeman Page B

had to see to the horses for the journey.
    They walked back to the town and Bramble went straight to the stables instead of to Safred’s house with the others. She led
     the horses around to the house, trying not to think about being separated from Cam and Mud. There was no choice, really, but
     she took a few moments as she led them to talk to them, telling them they would meet again, soon, soon. Trine got jealous
     and bumped her head against Bramble’s side. Instinctively, she braced for a lance of pain from her arm, but of course there
     was none. She was healed. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that.
    Bramble had bought provisions for a few days’ journey from Heron and had insisted on paying for the room as well, over Ash
     and Martine’s protests. “Least I can do,” she said. She never had liked being in someone’s debt and only the knowledge that
     the gods had sent Ash and Martine to her at the right time allowed her to bear the gratitude she owed them. She grinned at
     Ash. He was still walking stiffly from the long ride. She remembered how much learning to ride hurt.
    “Think you can manage another ride?”
    He looked at Cam with some doubt. “If I have to,” he said, then laughed with her. There was something false about the laughter,
     though, as if he was trying hard to seem light-hearted. Bramble felt a little protective of him, which was stupid, considering
     it was
he
who had saved
her
life. Zel brought a sack out from the house and dumped it next to the door frame.
    “Another journey,” Martine said. “Maybe Acton was right when he sent us on the Road. It seems like we can’t get away from
     it no matter how we try.”
    “No rest for the Traveler,” Ash said. “Not this side of the burial caves.”
    “I guess we must be Travelers, then,” Martine said wryly. Zel went back in for another load, leaving the door open behind
     her. Martine said quietly to Ash, “I cast again, and the stones said the same thing.”
    He went very still for a moment, then shrugged. “Doesn’t change anything.”
    “It may be that you need to find different —”
    Ash cut her off. “Forget it. I can’t do it, and that’s all.”
    Bramble busied herself with checking the girths on the horses. No business of hers. They had the right to their own secrets.
     But she noticed distress in both their faces, although they tried to disguise it with the blank face so many Travelers seemed
     to develop. A protective face, that gave nothing away.
    Safred’s voice reached them, murmuring quietly. Then the sound of a man sobbing uncontrollably. One of the pilgrims, no doubt.
     Bramble was uncomfortable with this side of Safred’s power. To heal flesh was extraordinary enough. To heal the spirit — something
     in her rebelled against that idea. To be so vulnerable to someone who was, after all, only another human… although at
     one time she had intended coming to the Well of Secrets for exactly that kind of healing, now it seemed inconceivable to her.
     There was no way she was baring her soul to Safred.
    Safred’s voice came again. Martine, Ash and Bramble exchanged glances. After a few moments the sobbing stopped and Safred
     appeared in the doorway, Cael behind her.
    “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said cheerfully.
    Bramble looked at Ash and smiled. “Parting of the ways. I guess we’re not meant to travel together, lad,” she said half-regretfully.
     He nodded, half-regretful himself.
    Zel and Flax emerged from the house, Zel talking in a big-sisterly tone.
    “You help as much as you can. Stay out of the inns. Wait until we’re together again.”
    Flax bore her advice patiently; more patiently than most younger brothers would have. His mouth was crooked up a little at
     one corner, as though he found it amusing, but he listened and nodded and said, “Yes, Zel,” in all the right places.
    Mullet came around the corner leading four horses, three skittish chestnuts who looked like they