“Either way,” Gideon said, “we’ll have to go through those mountains if you want to get to Barsava and then Varynga. Finding another route could take weeks.”
Falak snorted. “Try months. It would take months.”
“But you don’t have to risk yourself for the circus.” I jabbed my finger at Falak. “Or for him.”
“It wouldn’t be for him, or for the circus. I’d do it for you.” Gideon glanced at Falak, and the muscles around his eyes tightened. “Give me a place to sleep in one of your wagons, the right to take meals with the rest of the circus, and I vow to do whatever it takes to get you safely through those mountains.”
“Gideon, no.” I grabbed his arm and dug my fingers in. “It’s too risky.”
He turned his granite gaze on me. “It’s less dangerous to stick with a large group than go out on our own. This is the safest bet for us all.”
“But you’ll be putting yourself at the greatest risk. Again. I told you I can’t ask that of you anymore.”
“You’re not asking it of me. Falak is, and it’s my choice. If I can’t protect you or the people you care about, what’s my purpose? Why am I even here, if you won’t let me do the one thing I’m good at?”
Desperation and fear made my voice high pitched. “Fighting is not the only thing you’re good at.”
His forehead wrinkled as his scowl deepened. “What do you think I’m here for? What am I following you around the world for? You think I’m waiting for you to reclaim your throne so I can be your what? Your horse master?”
“No, Gideon. I want....” What did I want? For him to be a dutiful servant, a loyal dog, following me everywhere I went, obeying my commands? That might keep him safe, but I knew him well enough to know he’d be miserable and angry if I treated him that way. If I wanted him to respect my autonomy, I had to return the favor, but it scared me to the bone.
Gideon shook his head and turned away. “Those are my terms, ringmaster. Room and board, the authority to come and go as I need so I can scout ahead and to give orders to your men and women only so far as it’s required to keep them safe. And, perhaps, you’d lend me a few people who aren’t afraid of a fight. More eyes keeping watch will benefit us all.”
Falak glanced at me. “Is he worth it? Is he as capable as he seems?”
Despite my fear, I nodded. “There’s no one in the world with whom I’d entrust my life than Gideon. If anyone can get us through those mountains safely, it’s him.” I could help too, if only I had my thunder.
“Then it’s a deal.” Falak thrust out his hand. Gideon took it and they shook.
“We’ll be on the road shortly.” Falak stepped back and scanned the circle of wagons. “I’ll send some of my people to talk with you when we stop for lunch. You can decide which ones will best suit your needs.”
Gideon issued a curt bow in response.
The ringmaster returned the gesture before leaving to prepare the wagon train for departure. I grabbed Gideon’s arm before he could withdraw to his roadside camp. He furrowed his brow and gave me a wary look. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “No matter what, at least we’re together again.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as if he meant to say something. Instead, he bobbed his head.
“We’ve been too busy trying to survive day-to-day to think about what might happen if we succeed. You would make a wonderful horse master.” He scowled, but I waved off his objection before he could voice it. “It would be a tremendous waste, though, when you’re clearly suited for more important things. I’ll have a new Crown of Men someday, I suppose. Perhaps you’ll be their captain.”
He squinted at me, studying me. Did he suspect me of trying to placate him with empty propositions? “I mean it. If you want it, that is.”
He jerked his chin in a curt gesture of affirmation. “I’d be honored.”
“Promise you’ll be careful.”
He nodded again. “Of course.”
All the things I could have and should have said knotted together in my throat and stuck there. Instead of speaking, I squeezed his shoulder and ducked into Gepennio’s wagon, joining Genevieve to start another morning of tedious chores.
At lunchtime, the princess and I watched from the cook’s serving window as a small group of men and women joined Gideon at the side of the road, presumably all volunteers for his ad hoc sentry team. I recognized Stefan among the group, several other general laborers, and a man named Henri who performed a routine involving the “impalement arts.”
“Smart,” I said. “Gideon’s recruited an expert knife thrower.”
“Henri’s pretty good with a bow and arrow, too.” Genevieve leaned farther out the window to get a better look at the group. “I saw him perform back in Prigha. Looks like he’s talked his assistant into helping, too.” She pointed at a redhead in leather pants and a long cotton tunic standing at the edge of the group. “If she can throw a knife half as well as he can, maybe we stand a chance of getting safely past those highwaymen.”
I harrumphed. “Why do I think we won’t be that lucky?”
Genevieve glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Because experience has taught us better.”
***
That night at dinner, no one sang or danced or brought out instruments. Everyone huddled close and murmured in low, anxious voices. The shadow of the Thaulgant Mountains loomed over us, and a steady, chilly breeze spoiled what might have otherwise been a temperate evening. Storm clouds were moving in, collecting in dark-grey clumps that blotted out what was left of the evening sunset.
Already the road had narrowed, had turned rockier and steeper, leaving no open, flat places in which to establish our riding ring. Instead of curling up on itself like a pill bug, the wagon train had pulled as far off the road as the rocky terrain allowed. The mechanized carts clumped together in groups of three or four. Genevieve, Gideon, and I had gathered outside the costumes wagon along with Stefan, Henri the knife thrower, Jacqueline, his assistant, and several other willing and able-bodied workers.
“First on the list is establishing a round-the-clock watch.” Gideon stood while the rest of us squatted or knelt with our dinner plates, eating quietly while he laid out his plans. He’d asked and discovered that most everyone in our group spoke Gallandic. Genevieve whispered translations in my ear.
“During the day, while the train is moving, I’ll scout ahead, and I want two sets of eyes flanking the procession at all times. At night, I want that watch increased to three sets of eyes. The train must keep moving no matter what. Until we get through the pass, we can’t stop. Doing so makes us, quite literally, a sitting target.” Gideon’s gaze shifted over me and the group crouched before him. I glanced at my companions, wondering what Gideon saw when he looked at us. We were a motley band of workers, performers, and two young women who were eager and brave, but not much help in a fight. “Do any of you have experience with firearms?”
Henri raised his hand. “I’m better with my bow and my knives, though.”
“How about weapons? Does the circus have guns?”
Stefan spoke up. “Falak keeps a pistol in his wagon. Belonged to his father, so he’ll most likely keep that one for himself. Laromé and I have a pair of old rifles, not much ammunition though.”
Gideon rubbed his chin as he squinted at Stefan. “How’s your aim?”
Stefan shrugged. “I know which end is which. I’ve taken a couple stags, a few hares when times were lean.”
Gideon nodded as though his answer were sufficient. “How has the circus managed making this mountain crossing before?”
“We haven’t,” Stefan said. “Not in a very long time. We’ve stayed in the southern or western part of the Continent for the last dozen years or more.”
“This is the first time we’ve come this far north and east in ages,” said one of the workers, an older man with a grizzled beard and thick sideburns. He wore a broad-brimmed hat that shadowed his eyes. “Not since the ringmaster was a little wee thing still in nappies.”
I tried imagining the long, lanky Falak as a baby small enough for a woman to tote about on her hip, but I couldn’t reconcile the images.
“The Brigands didn’t have a hold on the passage back then,” Stefan said. “It was only a few highwaymen who worked together to raid easy targets, and the circus was never an easy one. We outnumbered them and put up a fight. They’ve become much more organized. They have a leader now.”
“Zisteffa Kerchwicki.” Gideon gritted his teeth. “The Kerch—her reputation precedes her.”
“She’s a nasty brute,” Henri muttered.
Stefan balanced his plate on his knee and rearranged his bowler hat, pushing it farther back on his head, revealing more of his wiry gray curls. “We don’t get much trouble from highwaymen.” He paused and licked a streak of gravy from one finger. “Don’t know if they think we have nothing worth stealing, which is mostly true, but we see people making holy signs and what-nots against us when they pass us on the road. Like they think we’re cursed, or that whatever we have that makes us outsiders is contagious.”
Jacqueline set aside her mostly empty dinner plate and fingered one of her ginger curls. “There’s an ancient understanding in this world: those who benefit from being acceptable members of society will always expect those who don’t to entertain them, especially whenever there’s a stage involved. A stage clarifies the division between classes. We stay in our place and they stay in theirs, but the road...the road is a great equalizer, although they’d be loath to admit it.” Her bright-red lips twisted into a wry smile. “So, instead, they avoid us, and that works in our favor, most of the time.”
“But the Thaulgant Brigands will possess no such qualms.” Gideon exhaled and rubbed the spikey strands of his hair, rousing cowlicks until his hair sprang up in spikes. “They only see a chance to profit. The circus is a shiny bright lure, and they’ll undoubtedly take our bait.”
