Free The Outskirter's Secret by Rosemary Kirstein Page A

accustomed to
occasionally living off small game and wild plants during the more
isolated segments of her routes, had accepted the statement only
half-seriously.
    But when she noted the appearance of the
stiff, rough-edged redgrass, which the deer never touched, and its
slow intermingling with the green of panic grass and timothy, she
also began to note the disappearance of smaller animals. The
rabbits, the mice, and even certain birds, were gone.
    "Grouse," she enumerated to herself, as she
struggled through the briar. "Quail, titmice. Finches."
    "What?"
    Rowan had not realized that she had spoken
aloud. "Where are the birds?" To give the lie to her observation,
an egret lifted in the distance, rising above unseen water, white
wavering wingstrokes dim against the mist-laden gray of the
sky.
    "You won't see many, deeper in the
Outskirts," Bel replied. "If a tribe moves close to the Inner
Lands, flocks of birds will follow it, but only for a while."
    Rowan paused to wipe sweat and condensation
from her face. "Perhaps we should head for that water. There may be
ducks."
    "Can you catch a duck?"
    Rowan made a vague gesture. "Probably. I know
the theory, but I've never tried it."
    The water was an east-running brook, slow and
shallow, and there were no ducks; two more egrets fled to the sky
at the travelers' approach, and three smaller birds, possibly
herons. In autumn, with no nestlings, they had no reason to return.
Rowan caught frogs, and one snake, while Bel watched from the banks
with immense amusement.
    They built a fire shelter out of brush, and
Rowan eventually started a damp, smoky fire with some of the birch
bark she had wisely saved from the forest, now far behind. The
flame needed constant attending, due to the smallness of the
bramble branches with which they fed it.
    They cooked; they ate; they calculated.
    "We have enough food," Bel said, "to get back
to the Inner Lands from here. We should think about it."
    Rowan had already been doing so. She sighed.
"How long do you think we can extend what we have?" She had
traveled on short rations before, and knew her own limits. She did
not know Bel's.
    "Let's check your maps."
    They abandoned their meal to stand
head-to-head; Bel held the sides of their cloaks together to
provide shelter for the chart. Rowan traced with one finger the
intermittent tracks to the east of Greyriver. "There's something
here . . . a few houses, not really a village. Farms."
    "Is your Steerswomen's privilege always
dependable?"
    Rowan winced. "No. But nearly always, yes.
And it's harvest by now; most people will be more generous. Can you
tell if there's likely to be a tribe nearby?"
    "There's likely to be one, anywhere east of here. But I
haven't seen the signs yet."
    "What signs do you look for?"
    "Goat muck, cessfields, and redgrass eaten to
the roots. Bits of corpses, if there's been trouble."
    Rowan replaced her map and they returned to
their dinner. "How likely are we to end up in bits ourselves?"
    "If we approach them right, they'll wait to
talk first. We'll only end up in bits if they don't like our
answers." Bel took another bite of food, appreciatively. "The smoke
doesn't help the frogs," she observed, "but it's good for the
snake."
    It was late afternoon, and the travelers
considered themselves in place for the night. Rowan wiped the
grease from her fingers and rose to set up the rain fly, musing on
Bel's several plans for gaining the acceptance of a tribe. "How is
it that I never knew that you had three names?" she wondered as she
worked.
    "I never told you any of my names at all,"
Bel pointed out, and Rowan recollected with surprise that this was
true. When first they met, Rowan had overheard Bel's first name
being used by an Outskirter tribe that was peacefully patronizing
the inn at Five Corners; the steerswoman had simply addressed the
Outskirter by the name she had heard, as a matter of course.
    "Bel, Margasdotter, Chanly," Rowan repeated
to herself, reminding herself of the