“Ben couldn’t fix it? Then certainly I couldn’t, but if it bothers you, I might be able to provide you with something to ease it.”
“Thank you,” she said. She requested nothing for she’d been well-supplied by Ben for the journey, but Destarion looked so eager to help. “I do have an aching wrist, however.”
He brightened. “Let me have a look then.” He noted the fresh scar on the back of her wrist from Brienne’s blade. “You’ve made swordmaster.”
“Yes,” she said.
“I’ve seen the mark before, had one or two that festered.”
He probed her wrist, and she explained that it had been broken.
“I have a rub that might ease it,” he said, “and a good soak in warm water would provide some relief from the pain. I will brew a cup of willowbark tea for you, as well.” He busied himself organizing supplies, and appeared much more cheerful. At the idea of him making her tea, she thought unpleasantly of what he’d done to Captain Mapstone.
She returned to the fireplace just in time to hear Captain Treman tell Estral, “I would not recommend it.”
“Not recommend what?” Karigan asked.
“Going to the lumber camp where he thinks my father was last seen,” Estral said.
Captain Treman looked uneasy. “It is very near territory Second Empire has claimed for itself. The camp itself has been closed up for winter. No one there. If your father did pass through the camp, it would seem he has a penchant for living dangerously.”
“I’m afraid he does,” Estral muttered. “It’s the only clue I’ve gotten at this point.”
“The captain said it’s closed up,” Karigan told her, “and we aren’t going anywhere near Second Empire.”
“You aren’t,” Estral said, “but I can go where I please.”
Karigan wasn’t about to let her friend hare off into danger like that, even though Estral’s reason for joining in on the journey was for her own purposes. “Actually, I was thinking you could bide your time here while Enver and I continue north and—”
“It is not your decision,” Estral told her with surprising heat. “I am not yours to command, no matter what titles have been bestowed upon you.”
Karigan schooled herself before responding with her own heat. “True enough, but to ignore the advice and warning of Captain Treman, who has been in this region for some time fighting Second Empire, would not be wise.” Before Estral could reply, she continued, “Do not stay here if that is what you wish. Come with Enver and me, and perhaps we’ll find more clues. But please, don’t go walking into danger.”
“As if you don’t?”
Karigan felt her cheeks warm. “If I do, it’s because of duty. If you do and something happens to you, then I’m the one who must contend with Alton, and he would not be happy with me.”
Humor returned to Estral’s eyes. “That might just make it worthwhile.”
“Oh, dear gods,” Karigan muttered. She noted Enver looked curiously uncomfortable, and she learned the reason why a little while later while she soaked her wrist in the pan of warm water Destarion had prepared for her.
“Galadheon,” he said when he came to her.
“What is it?”
“About our travel . . .”
“Is there a problem?”
He looked uncharacteristically abashed. “Our path. It lies close to the Lone Forest.”
“What?” Water sloshed over the rim of the bowl with her reaction. Others in the room looked over at them. In a low voice she said, “Why didn’t you mention this before? Like a long time ago?”
“I did not know.”
“What do you mean you didn’t know? You’re the guide.”
“The way is, as you were told, found on no map. It is, as I explained long ago, a matter of intuition.”
Intuition. It was like some kind of terrible Eletian joke.
“If it helps, Galadheon, Eletian intuition is stronger than that of humans.”
Yes, but he was half human, she thought with rancor. Was his intuition only half as good as a full Eletian’s? The gods, she decided, hated her. Wayfinding by intuition? What was next? Finding the p’ehdrose through dreams?
Eletians.
RENNARD OF THE RIVER UNIT
Enver no doubt sensed Karigan’s displeasure and so moved off to once more sit by the fire next to Estral. Yes, she was sure the gods were laughing at her. Well, she’d have to make sure that when they neared the Lone Forest they were very careful. She would have continued to stew over it all, but Lieutenant Rennard sat down across the table from her. Now what? she wondered.
“Hurt yourself?” he asked.
“Broke my wrist last spring. The damp cold makes it ache.”
“I have a knee like that,” he replied. “Tramping out in the woods all day like we do doesn’t help much, but Destarion is good with the remedies. Don’t know how we got so lucky to get him, but he’s the best mender we’ve ever had. When we were posted by the Terrygood, settlers and lumbermen would come from miles around to see him. You’d think he worked miracles.”
Karigan swirled her hand around in the now tepid bowl of water. Of course Rennard would not know why Destarion had been assigned to the River Unit. The whole affair around the assassination attempt on the king, and the circumstances surrounding his precipitate wedding, had been kept quiet.
“I’m glad Master Destarion has been useful to your unit.” She removed her wrist from the water and dried it off with a towel.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Rennard finally said, “I am sorry I was disrespectful when we met in the woods.”
She was surprised by his apology. “I know that soldiers often think of messengers as lesser.”
“I am afraid that’s true,” he replied, “but I also think that perception is changing. It’s just that when we’re posted out here in the wilds, we are more coarse, rougher. Part of it is the danger; part of it is the nature of a group of soldiers living closely together and sharing that danger. Anyway, I had heard a little about you, but I guess I hadn’t believed it until we met out in the woods and you held your ground.” He laughed as though to himself. “Had I known you were a swordmaster and honorary Weapon, I would not have turned my back on you. And, of course, I should not have been so rude regardless. I apologize for the way we received you.”
“Hmm. Can’t say I’m happy about the hole your archer punched in my saddle, but apology accepted.”
He inclined his head. “I am much relieved.”
“Perhaps,” she said, “from now on you will treat my fellow Riders with courtesy. We are all on the same side, after all, and since messengers don’t necessarily trumpet all that they endure during the course of an errand, it is deceptive to assume they are less than capable and do not regularly face danger.”
“I will endeavor to do better,” he replied. “I promise.” He glanced over his shoulder to see who might be observing them, then he leaned in close as if to let her in on a secret. “There is something I would like to ask you.”
“Yes?”
His eyes shifted nervously. “I wanted to ask something—something personal.”
Karigan waited. Surely he hadn’t been flirting with her, had he? He wasn’t going to express interest in courting her, was he?
“Can you tell me . . .” He was blushing.
Uh-oh, she thought. “Yes?”
“Can you tell me,” he began again, “if your friend is married or otherwise attached?”
She almost burst out laughing. No, he had not been flirting. Not with her. No wonder he was making nice. She managed to contain herself, and feeling fiendish, she asked, “Enver or Estral?”
His blush intensified. “Estral.”
“Well, she is seeing someone,” Karigan replied, “but I wouldn’t let that stop you. You never know, but she might be o
pen to another suitor.”
He looked thoughtful. “Thank you.” He rose from the bench, straightened his uniform, and sauntered toward where Estral sat before the fire. He pulled up a chair of his own and straddled it so he could face her.
Cocky lad, Karigan thought in amusement. Apparently Rennard was not intimidated by Estral’s noble status. Flirting with the lover of the future lord-governor of D’Yer Province? Poor Rennard hadn’t a chance, and Estral would be annoyed with her for sending him over, but to Karigan’s line of thinking, it would be worth it.
• • •
Captain Treman invited them to stay the night. Relieved to be dry and warm, Karigan was only too glad to accept. At supper, the building filled up with the members of the River Unit and became noisy with the raucous sounds of hungry, chattering people and the clatter of dishware. The cooks had produced a savory moose stew. The soldiers supplemented their stores with hunting.
Karigan sat with the captain, Enver seated beside her and listening gravely to their discussion about the terrain in the vicinity of the Lone Forest. Out of the corner of her eye, Karigan espied Estral being occupied by Rennard’s advances. She chuckled to herself.
“They will have patrols well outside the forest,” the captain was warning her. “I would really caution you against going anywhere near there.”
“I do not wish to,” she replied, “but according to my guide—” and she gave Enver a stern look, “—the object of our search may lie in that vicinity.” She had wondered more than once if finding the p’ehdrose was worth it. She hoped so.
She dipped a wedge of pan bread into the hot stew, and continued to listen attentively while Treman, with interjections from his officers, detailed the lay of the land and warned her there would be traps in the forest.
“Traps like to snare animals,” Lieutenant Dannyn said, “but made to snare people. We’ve lost a few of our own to them.”
This revelation did not alleviate Karigan’s trepidation about traveling near the Lone Forest, but the grim talk soon faded and gave way to entertainment after the meal. Word had gotten out that Estral was of Selium, and she was requested to lead the singing. She had only sung with Enver at their campsites and looked nervous, but once she began a cheerful tune about a soldier and his sweetheart, her voice was steady and strong. Soldiers on fiddle and pipe accompanied her. Rennard, Karigan observed, watched her raptly as one besotted. Good thing they weren’t staying long.
Most of the songs Estral chose were upbeat, the sorts that could be heard in any tavern, and well-known to her audience. Many sang the choruses with her. She inserted a couple of wistful ballads, but nothing morose. Soldiers away from home, Karigan reflected, did not need morose.
“I must rest my throat,” Estral said after another rollicking tune. The audience met her announcement with disappointment. “But maybe Enver would sing for us.”
This was greeted with uneasy silence, but to Karigan’s surprise, Enver looked pleased. He stood and joined Estral by the fireplace.
“I would like to sing about the ale,” he said.
Looks of disbelief and murmuring spread through the audience, but once Enver launched into the song that Estral had taught them after their time in North, it was clear his beautiful voice and spirited rendition captured their astonished attention. Most would not have ever seen an Eletian before, and to hear one sing a simple tune about ale? When he finished, there was silence.
“Did I sing it wrong?” he asked uncertainly.
“Hells, no!” someone shouted, and the audience broke out in enthusiastic applause and calls for more. Enver smiled tentatively, and then sang a couple more of the tunes Estral had taught him.
Estral edged her way to where Karigan sat, Rennard’s gaze following her all the way. She leaned down and whispered, “You are in big trouble.”
Karigan pretended she could not hear and clapped to the beat of Enver’s song along with everyone else. She was darkly satisfied.
When the time came for those not on duty to turn in, Captain Treman gave profuse thanks to Estral and Enver for providing the night’s entertainment.
“It’s been a hard winter,” he explained, “and this has raised everyone’s spirits.”
They were invited to sleep on pallets in the dining hall before the fire. It might be the last dry, warm night of their journey, and Karigan planned to take full advantage of it. Enver, conversely, chose to wander the woods within the perimeter.
She and Estral shared the dining hall with the cooks. Before they turned in for the night, they sat on the edges of their pallets, whispering to one another.
“What on Earth were you thinking when you sent Rennard after me?” Estral demanded. “Now he won’t leave me alone.”
“Sorry,” Karigan lied. “You’ve told him about Alton, haven’t you?”
“Of course I have.”
“Well, we’ll be gone tomorrow.” Karigan folded aside the top blanket of her bedroll. “You probably won’t see him again.”
“He’s not really a bad sort, just persistent.”
Karigan tried to smother a smile. Estral squinted at her.
“This is really about the Lone Forest, isn’t it,” Estral said. “You’re just mad because we’re going near it.”
“I’m not happy about it, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’d rather not go that way either, truth be told, but if it leads to my father?”
Karigan sobered. “I know.”
She lay down and pulled her blanket to her chin. From the dark around her came the deep breaths and snoring of sleeping cooks. She could only hope to sleep just as well as they, but with thoughts of the next leg of their journey on her mind, she was not so sure that she would.
From the vicinity of Estral’s pallet came the whispered comment: “As for Rennard? I think you’re just jealous.”
Karigan’s snort of laughter was met with several grumbles of “Quiet!” and “Go to sleep!”
• • •
The cooks woke up before dawn, which meant Karigan and Estral did, too. After a hearty breakfast, they prepared to leave, and with Enver joining them, tacked the horses and loaded Bane the pony with their supplies. Just as a night in a warm, dry building had done Karigan and Estral a world of good, so had a night in a sheltered paddock done for the horses. As they left the paddock area, Captain Treman and Lieutenant Rennard came to see them off.
“The lieutenant and his people will guide you back on course,” the captain said, “though I have deep reservations about that course.”
He was not, Karigan thought, the only one. “I understand, sir. We will be vigilant and avoid trouble.”
Treman nodded, then handed her a sheaf of papers. “A report for the king. I realize you are not heading directly back to Sacor City, but I don’t know when we’ll see another messenger. Nothing of great import anyway, but perhaps of some use to the king.”
Karigan took the sheaf and deposited it in her message satchel.
Treman then turned to Estral. “I hope you locate your father, my lady. We’ll keep watch for him, and if we’ve any sign, we’ll send word to Sacor City.”
“Thank you.”
Someone touched Karigan’s sleeve and she turned to find Destarion standing there.
“Rider,” he said, “I have a jar of rub for your wrist.”
Karigan took the proffered jar. “Thank you, Master Destarion.”
“If you think of it,” he said, humbly gazing at his feet, “might you put in a good word about me to the king?”
The awkwardness returned. After a thoughtful moment, she replied. “When I see the king next, I will tell him how helpful you’ve been, and about the good things I’ve heard about your work with the River Unit.”
“Thank you, Rider, thank you. It is more than I deserve.” He backed away, head still bowed.
; Awkwardness gave way to regret that so gifted a mender had fallen so far. But he was still alive, which was more than she could say about his fellow conspirators, and, she reminded herself, he was here as a result of his own actions.
Rennard and a half dozen of his scouts led them through the woods. They moved quietly, ever on the alert for enemies. As before, Karigan, Estral, and Enver walked, leading their horses along, until they came to the place where Rennard had found them the day before. While his scouts melted into the woods, he remained for final farewells.
“I will be more courteous to the next messenger who passes through my woods,” he told Karigan with a grin. “Safe journeys to you.” To Enver, he said, “We enjoyed your singing last night. Not what we expected from the Elt, and perhaps you are not the usual Elt.” They shook hands, and finally he turned to Estral. “My lady.” He gave her a courtly bow and kissed her hand. “Lord Alton is a very fortunate man to have your devotion, but should you ever have a change of heart, I hope you will remember Rennard of the River Unit. I am ever at your service.” He bowed once more, and disappeared into the woods.
Well, Karigan thought. That was that. Estral looked a little . . . troubled? Forlorn? Certainly pink in the cheeks. They mounted, taking up their usual order with Enver in the lead and Karigan bringing up the rear. Some time had passed before she dared say anything.
“Are you pleased to be rid of Rennard?” she asked Estral.
“Rid? Once Miles backed off a little, he actually ended up being quite charming. Dashing, really.”
Uh-oh, Karigan thought. Might Alton have some competition, after all? She doubted it. In any case, Estral’s attachments would not likely be foremost in either of their minds the closer they got to the Lone Forest.
TEA WITH THE PRINCE
“Are you sure you are up to this?” Connly asked.
Laren sighed. “It doesn’t matter if I’m up to it or not.”
They walked slowly toward the west wing, the Weapon Willis escorting them. More guards than ever stood sentry along the walls. The castle was on full alert, and ever since the ousting of the aureas slee, Laren had been guarded and trailed by a Weapon. She was certain it had little to do with her own safety, but with the queen’s. They wanted to make sure that all who came in direct contact with the queen were not replaced by the changeling elemental as Zachary had been.
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