Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 470
get back his shop, isn’t he? And the soldiers who murdered
everyone in this town? After this is all over," she said, "they’ll
all go back to their farms and shops too, won’t they? And
they’ll live long happy lives, and no one will be the wiser about
what they did here."
"We will," was all Jordan could think of to say.
Tamsin flicked the reins, and guided her horse off the
road. She didn’t want to go down there, he saw with relief. He
couldn’t have prevented her without using force.
The horses objected to entering the sand. Both animals
were tired and seemed sick, though from no cause Jordan or
Tamsin could discern. They rolled their eyes now and blew,
but as the wind changed and they caught the scent coming from
the valley, they accepted the new path.
"If this was Integer, that means we’re close," said Tamsin
at length. "The desal should be a half-day’s journey that way."
She pointed southeast.
"How do you know?"
She shrugged. "The towns are all built around a low
plateau; it’s almost invisible unless you know what to look for.
See what looks like walls out there?" She pointed into the
heart of the desert, where he did indeed see some reddish lines
near the horizon. "The land steps up and up for a while in little
man-high clifflets like that. In the center is the desal."
"Good. We could be there by nightfall." He tried to
bring an optimistic tone back to his voice.
"They should all die."
He kneed his horse to bring it next to hers. The animal
wheezed and made a half-hearted attempt to buck, then
complied.
Tamsin was crying. "They should all be hung," she said.
"But they won’t be. They’ll get away with it. They’ll laugh