True Heart (3 page)

T
hat night, Heart and Kip curled up in a meadow not far from the road. Avamir and Moonsilver lay side by side a little way off. A thick stand of chestnut trees hid them all from anyone passing by on the road.

The next day, Heart woke early.

As they traveled, the road began to rise.

Binney had called this the High Road.

By noon Heart knew why. Her legs ached, and still the road steepened.

Late in the day Heart saw a farmer's cart ahead of them.

She slowed to match the pace of the clopping mules that pulled it.

She had to keep a distance between the unicorns and anyone else.

She was less afraid now—and she was grateful to Joseph for that.

From a long way off Moonsilver would look like a noble's horse.

So would Avamir.

No one would be able to tell that she wasn't a page—not unless they came close enough to see her Gypsy clothes.

When evening finally came, Heart left the steep road, her legs aching. She found another sheltered clearing, farther from the road. There were plum thickets to keep them hidden.

She took Moonsilver's armor off.

He galloped in circles, then rolled to scratch his back.

Heart made a tiny cook fire. She ate bread and apples and a broth made from herbed barley.

Kip sat quietly until she spread her blanket to lie down. Then he curled up close to her.

Heart's legs hurt. She wished for some of Ruth Oakes's meadowsweet salve.

Heart yawned.

She was tired.

But she forced herself to pull out her book and the half candle.

She hadn't practiced even once since they left Joseph's forge.

She had promised Tibbs she would.

And what the rude woman had forced her to read made her wonder. It had sounded as though there was a Royal House of Avamir somewhere—that it was
real
.

But where was it?

Heart opened the book carefully, looking for the page with the design of the rearing unicorns.

She stared at the perfect drawing.

The woman in Yolen's Crossing had read aloud to her. Her books had said the lords had hunted the unicorns in the forests.

Had they killed all but two of them?

Heart glanced up at Moonsilver and Avamir.

Were they the only unicorns left?

Heart looked at the words below the design.

She sounded out the words silently, then read
them aloud. “The Mountains of the Moon,” it said beneath the drawing.

Heart took a deep breath and focused on the next line. “‘The an … an …,” she began. Then she frowned.

It was a strange, long word.

It was the one Zim hadn't been able to read.

The word that followed it was odd too. Heart couldn't sound either one of them out.

She turned the page.

“‘And so the off … offer was hon … hon …,” she read aloud, then stopped again.

Heart tightened her hands on the book.

Why couldn't she just
read
it?

Heart tried turning more pages. There were so many words. They seemed endless. And so many of them were long and complicated.

This book was much harder to read than the one the rude woman had carried.

Heart's candle flickered.

A little breeze was stirring.

She rested the book on her chest and looked up at the sky.

There was no moon.

The stars glittered.

Kip stretched, then snuggled close.

Heart pulled her blanket higher.

The breeze blew out her candle.

Heart thought about lighting it again. She knew she should practice reading. Then she closed her eyes.

She was so
tired
.

Her dreams rushed forward.

She dreamed she was running up a canyon. It was dark until the moon rose, wide and steady, filling the sky overhead.

Its light turned the mountains silver gray.

CHAPTER FIVE

“H
ow much longer?”

“Just hurry and stop complaining!”

The shouts jolted Heart awake. She sat up straight, startled out of a deep sleep.

Kip scrambled to his feet.

The men's voices were coming from the road, beyond the plum thickets.

Heart was afraid. What if they stopped to argue? Would they see the unicorns through the leaves?

Kip growled. Heart took his muzzle in her hand. “No, Kip. Don't bark.”

Avamir was wide awake, her head lifted, her nostrils flared.

Moonsilver sprang upright. His horn shone in
the early sun. Avamir stood more slowly, her eyes rimmed in white.

Heart picked up the book and her candle and shoved them into her carry-sack.

She kept glancing at the trees, her pulse quick.

The unicorns' white coats were as bright as spring snow.

If the men looked back and caught a glimpse of them through the branches …

Kip bared his teeth without making a sound.

“Stay out of the cakes,” the first voice said angrily. “Can't you walk a little faster?”

“You be still,” the second voice scolded. “It'll go on for a week. How often is a new lord crowned?”

“Once in a lifetime,” the first voice admitted. They were passing, and their voices were fading. “But it isn't a real lord, anyway,” the man was saying. “The uncle will …”

The voice went on, getting too far away to hear. After a moment the whispery sighs of the forest were the only sounds. Then Heart heard another voice—a woman's this time.

Heart rushed to buckle on Moonsilver's armor.

Her hands were trembling.

When the unicorns were ready, she stopped at the edge of the road and looked left and right.

Heart could see people in
both
directions.

She stepped forward, her pulse speeding up again.

The best thing to do was to stay between the other travelers.

At first it was easy.

It got harder.

Every little lane that joined the High Road had a few people on it.

There were more little roads all the time.

Like creeks joining a river, each town road carried a current of people and wagons.

By midmorning the High Road was full, a tangle of carts and crowds.

The unicorns pretended that Heart was leading them along.

People stared at Moonsilver for a moment, then went back to talking.

These people were farmers and villagers, Heart realized. They were interested in the fancy armor. But they didn't know or care how Heart should be dressed.

Heart made sure the unicorns walked at the pace of the crowds around them.

She was careful not to meet anyone's eyes.

The countryside was rocky and steep as the road continued upward. Then, finally, at midday it began to descend, going downhill at last.

They passed more towns.

By afternoon Heart and the unicorns were squeezed between a wagon full of caged pheasants and six chatting women.

The women carried bulging bags over their shoulders. Heart knew what was in them. She could smell fresh-baked bread.

Kip could too.

He dropped back.

He walked beside one of the women, looking up at her.

She bent down to pat his head. He gave her a wet doggy kiss on the cheek.

The woman laughed aloud.

Heart kept glancing over her shoulder.

She couldn't let go of the unicorns' halters. People had to think they were horses—that they needed to be led along or they might stray.

Kip was bowing now, Heart saw. He was using his Gypsy-show tricks to charm the women.

“Look at that!” the woman said, getting her friends to watch Kip too.

“Kip!” Heart called. “Come!” She met the woman's eyes. “I'm sorry he's bothering you,” she said politely.

The woman smiled widely at her. “No bother at all!”

“Kip!” Heart called again.

This time he came, his ears and tail lowered.

He walked beside Moonsilver, sulking.

“Don't be so friendly,” Heart scolded him in a low voice. “What will I do if they start asking questions?”

“Beautiful horses, dearie,” the woman called
out to her. “And such a lovely little dog.”

Heart nodded without turning.

“Is your master in Bidenfast for the festival?”

Heart glared at Kip. He whined and lowered his head as though he understood why she was angry.

“That's where we are going,” Heart said carefully. “I have friends there.”

The woman nodded pleasantly. “Well, if you like dog tricks, be sure to see the Gypsy show.”

Heart turned. “Gypsy show?”

The woman nodded. “There might be a horse trained to act like a unicorn, people are saying. And they have wirewalkers and balancers and music—and two or three trained dogs.”

“It sounds grand,” Heart said as evenly as she could. “Are you sure they will be there?”

The woman nodded. “My cousin's wife's friend is a guardsman. He says the young lord's uncle wanted them there.”

Heart turned away, glancing at Moonsilver and Avamir.

They looked like bored horses, their heads and
tails low, their eyes half closed as they walked.

“He's a bad one,” the woman whispered. “The uncle. He takes shares off his villages' crops till the folk nearly starve.”

“Hush yourself,” one of the woman's friends warned. The woman's eyes widened, and Heart saw her glance toward Moonsilver.

“I mean, I heard that once,” she said quickly. “I'm sure it wasn't true.”

She dropped back to walk with her friends, her cheeks flushed.

Heart knew the woman thought she was a stable page—some low-ranking nobility—because of Moonsilver's armor. Heart wanted to explain that she was a villager too.

But she didn't dare.

The weary day went on. Heart's spirits sank as the hours passed.

It only got worse.

That night Moonsilver had to stand in his armor.

There were so many people close by that Heart didn't dare take it off.

She saw farmers glancing her way.

She knew they thought she was both cruel and lazy.

Why else would she make her lord's horse sleep so uncomfortably?

Heart felt terrible. The cart horses and wagon mules around them were better off than poor Moonsilver that night.

She lay awake, staring at the sky.

Thinking, she turned her silver bracelet around and around on her wrist. She would have to enter the city of Bidenfast.

It would be dangerous.

But she had no choice.

The Gypsies were probably fine, but what if they weren't? What if they needed her help? She had to find out.

CHAPTER SIX