The Dreamtrails by Isobelle Carmody

Author:Isobelle Carmody [Carmody, Isobelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-97584-3
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2012-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

By the time I was close enough to see that the town was fully walled, I had a good-sized armful of wood. This was fortunate, since the tide was high enough to make it impossible to enter at the shore. The walk had fatigued me, but it had not left me shaking and sickly as even a short walk had done two days past. My body seemed to have finished healing itself, and I was sure that once I had some proper food and water, I would be completely renewed.

Coming along the shore meant that I was approaching the city from the side and would enter through one of the lesser side gates. I had assumed that it would be scrutinized less closely than the city’s main entrance gate, for important people and most travelers would come along the main coast road and so enter the city by its imposing main entrance. The only people who used a city’s side gates were its poorer denizens—fisherfolk and foragers of various kinds. This was all to the good, for my bedraggled appearance would cause less comment in such company.

As I made my way slowly along the stony ground beside the wall, I found myself so thirsty that there was little else on my mind save reaching a well. I had endured thirst constantly since awakening on the west coast, but somehow it had become harder to bear the nearer I came to the city. Nevertheless, before I reached the gate, I forced myself to stop in the shade cast by the wall and set down my pile of wood. I rubbed my sticky face vigorously to remove the salt, combed my fingers through my hair, and plaited it as best I could. I then wove some strands of the spiked grass to bind the wood together. A real wood carrier would also have a woven shoulder pad, but I did not want to waste any more time.

Taking a deep breath, I shouldered the wood and joined those waiting to be admitted to the city. I was immediately relieved to notice that the bent crone at the front of the queue carried wood, too. I entered her mind to confirm that the city was indeed Morganna, but unfortunately she knew nothing of which ships had anchored here. Nor did the two boys behind her, leading horses. Both were grooms for the same stablemaster, and it occurred to me that I could easily pass for one of them if I pushed my hair under a cap, hunched down, and left the city the same way. Behind the grooms, a big man sat on a cart drawn by a bullock. The cart was piled high with ubu and a brown nut, which his mind told me he had gathered some distance from the city. Directly in front of me were several poor-looking travelers with thin packs, ragged clothes, and pinched faces. A swift probe revealed they were from the tiny farms where people eked out a living along the narrow belt of less barren land that fringed the Blacklands.

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