‘Nolan, where are we going?’ The question had been preying on her mind since they’d crossed the river.
‘In the first instance, Minna’s farm in the north downs.’ He held her gaze. ‘Havreport isn’t safe until we discover who betrayed you to Westlaw.’
‘And how will we do that?’
‘We can worry about that once you’re safely in LeMarc. How we get you there—’
‘Do I have a say in this? Or am I just an item of baggage to be delivered?’ Her tone was sharper than she’d intended, but he might at least have consulted her.
He answered stiffly. ‘If my plan is not to your liking, my lady, I can deliver you back to Havreport — though that would likely cost Lyse and Ciaran their lives.’
It was a low blow, and it knocked the breath from her lungs. Nolan turned abruptly and went to ready the horses.
They rode on in silence, their shadows stretching ahead until the sky turned a dark fiery orange above high, pink-bellied cloud, then slept the night in a barn.
Waking to the clank of buckets and the sweet smell of nanny goats brought a rush of warmth to Risha’s chest, quickly lost as Nolan gave thanks to the startled farm daughters and hurried them on.
The countryside they rode through varied between verdant rolling hills and upland plains, the hills supporting livestock — sheep more often than goats — while grain swayed across the flatlands.
Tension prickled between them. By midday Risha was tired of it. When the track they followed widened she kicked Mica forward to ride at Nolan’s side.
‘Captain, have we far to go to our destination?’
‘Another two days.’ He eyed her warily, and when no comment followed her first, ventured a neutral topic. ‘How’s your shoulder?’
‘Improving. Your cousin’s ointment seems to have helped.’ A sheep grazing the verge raised its head to study them then trotted away. Risha cleared her throat. ‘Our conversation at the river yesterday: I’m sorry if—’
‘The apology is mine. I should have discussed the plan with you sooner.’
‘A mutual apology then.’ She let an easy silence rest between them before broaching her next topic. ‘The north downs lie at the western end of CaledonWater, do they not?’
‘Cupped by the lake and the curve of the El to the north, and running south almost to Whitelaw.’
‘So where are we now?’
‘About a day’s ride from the rise of the El.’
‘At Leighton?’
‘Yes.’ Wariness had crept back into his face.
‘This farm we’re going to: where exactly does it lie?’
‘Exactly? Four miles south of the eastern curve of Merren Bay on the shore of CaledonWater.’
She squinted as she tried to remember Pelon’s maps, but could not recall Merren Bay. ‘I don’t know it,’ she admitted. ‘What town is it near?’
‘None. That’s part of its charm.’
‘If we’re two days from this farm and a day from Leighton …’ She paused, knowing he wouldn’t like it. ‘Might we make a detour? It would give us news, and perhaps allow me to get a message to Lord Donnel.’
‘From Leighton?’
She nodded.
‘It’s a small place. There’s a guardhouse, but it’s unlikely we’d find an aviary with pigeons homed to LeMarc.’
‘A rider then. Or some combination.’
He flicked his reins to dislodge a fly from his horse’s neck. ‘Word should have reached Havreport by now. Which will probably mean a bird has already been sent to Lord Donnel.’
‘With exactly the opposite information to that which he needs to hear.’
He glanced sideways. ‘Why do I feel I’m being managed?’
‘You’re not, Captain Nolan. You’re simply engaging in shared decision-making. It’s not an unworkable system.’
Croft went ahead to scout the town. To pass the time while they waited, Risha answered Nolan’s questions about Torfell and her journey to Caledon with Marit’s traders.
The news Croft brought on his return was encouraging. ‘Seems quiet enough. No sign of any Westlarns. Lake docks are busy but nothing out of the ordinary so far as I could tell. There’s a tavern just south of the harbour — far enough from the barracks that we’re unlikely to run into anyone we know — where we could find a meal and listen out for any gossip.’
Risha’s belly rumbled. They’d not eaten since breakfast and the sun was sinking rapidly toward the horizon.
Nolan glanced at her. ‘You won’t pass close scrutiny like that, short hair or no. Have you a dress that will cover the bruising?’
She ducked behind the boulders where they’d rested and shrugged into Lyse’s dress, arranging a shawl around her shoulders. A battered young woman travelling with two similarly battered guardsmen was hardly ideal as a disguise, but it would have to do. Scrubbing her face with a splash of water from her flask, she pushed her ragged hair behind her ears and straightened her shoulders. It was Risha, rather than Guardsman Rush, who rejoined the men.
Nolan looked her over and gave a terse nod. ‘All right. Our aim is not to attract attention. We sit in a corner and keep our heads down. Any trouble and we get out, no arguments. Understood?’
‘Agreed,’ Risha said pointedly.
Croft’s cough sounded suspiciously as if it might have begun as something else.
As they neared the lakefront, the smallholdings of Leighton’s straggling southern outskirts gave way to workshops and goods sheds. Risha had seen nothing of the town on her visit three years ago. She suppressed a shudder at the memory of being transferred from Olli’s ketch to Fenn’s barge by way of a barrel.
The tavern was a squat, dark building with stables behind. Nolan gave a lad a coin to tend their horses and led them inside. The proprietor looked up as they entered. It was early and there were few patrons: a group of fishermen toasting their day’s work and a couple of singletons who looked as though the drinks they nursed were not their first.
The proprietor took their order and Nolan chose a table against the wall. When the man delivered their meal his eyes lingered on Risha. She pulled her shawl a little higher.
The stew was good, spicy and rich, and they gave it their earnest attention. Croft finished first, spearing the last chunk of fish and pushing his plate aside with a satisfied sigh.
‘Get you anything more?’ The woman was middle-aged with broad hips and the signs of a life of hard work and worry etched on her face.
‘That was excellent.’ Croft burped and patted his belly. ‘Just like my ma used to make. Don’t suppose you do an apple tart?’
‘We’ve baked apricots and custard. Three servings?’
Risha shook her head.
‘If it’s as good as that fish, I’ll eat double,’ Croft announced. ‘Best I’ve eaten in months.’
The woman barely acknowledged his flattery, but set another jug of ale on the table with the laden bowls she brought out.
The tavern had begun to fill as they ate. After a few mouthfuls Nolan slid his bowl towards Croft and sauntered to the bar. Risha watched surreptitiously as he struck up a conversation with a couple of newly arrived patrons.
Croft emptied Nolan’s bowl and sighed. ‘A lot better than my ma used to make, actually. She was never much of a cook.’
Risha smiled.
‘How’s the shoulder? Still sore?’
‘Not so bad as it was. Your face still looks a mess.’ The bruising on his jaw had faded to a tattered yellow-brown, half-hidden by four days’ growth of beard. It might have been taken for a smear of dirt, were it not for the darkened eye that went with it.
He ran a hand across his bristly cheek. ‘Must have been why she didn’t soften to my charms, eh? I’d hate to think I was losing my touch.’
Risha ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Do you suppose there’s a bath-house anywhere?’
‘There’s the lake, though it’d likely be a bit cold.’
The conversation hit a lull an
d she glanced towards the bar. Nolan had moved to the edge of a rowdy group of young men where he stood side on, nursing a tankard.
‘Cap says you’ve been here before,’ Croft ventured.
‘Only briefly. I was on my way downriver; I didn’t come into the town. Have you ever been to Caledon?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve mostly been stationed in the south. Spent a few years as a courier when I was younger, mostly between Havre and Saithe, but it took me up to Deeford once.’
‘On Fratton’s border, past Bethanfield?’ Where her father had defeated Somoran’s forces after they’d sacked the north of LeMarc.
Croft’s thoughts had turned the same way. ‘Aye. Donnel did well getting rid of that snake.’
Risha wondered how Margetta would be coping in the wake of her former jailor’s fall. Nolan walked into their thoughtful silence, and Croft drifted off through the thickening crowd.
‘Any news?’ she asked, as Nolan dropped into a chair.
‘Not yet — probably a good sign. We might leave Croft to nose around a little longer. You look tired.’
The word alone was enough to elicit a yawn.
Nolan smiled. ‘Come on.’
They were midway across the room when he bent his face close to hers, lips brushing her ear. ‘Keep your head down. We’re being observed.’
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he pulled her close, her cheek pressed into the warm weave of his shirt. He smelt of sweat and horse and the lingering spicy aroma of the stew. As he bundled her out the door she glanced behind. A woman was pushing her way toward them.
‘Wait.’ Risha put a hand on his chest as he propelled her into the road. ‘Nolan. I know her. She’s a friend.’
He didn’t pause. ‘That’s as may be, but she wasn’t alone.’
Risha planted her feet. ‘Nolan. Stop.’
With a glance left and right he towed her into the alley that ran alongside the tavern. ‘We’re trying not to draw attention, you might recall.’
‘But—’
‘It’s too public.’
‘It is that.’
Nolan spun on his heel, his hand reaching for his sword. Risha darted past him. ‘Fenn!’
The riverwoman smiled. ‘I wasn’t ready to believe my own eyes when I saw you.’ She pushed the hair back from the mottled bruise on Risha’s forehead, her mouth tightening.
Croft chose that moment to tumble out the rear door of the tavern and saunter towards them, one thumb hooked casually around the hilt of his sword. Fenn lifted an eyebrow.
‘They’re friends,’ Risha said.
‘So I saw.’ She ran her gaze over Nolan.
‘Not in that way.’ Risha clasped the woman’s hands. ‘How are you, Fenn? Oh, but it’s good to see you!’
‘And you, though I might wonder what you’re doing here.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘I don’t doubt it. What happened to your hair?’
Risha glanced at Nolan. He had the grace to look repentant. ‘That’s part of the story. Did you have any trouble with the guardsmen after I left you?’
‘Some. You?’
Risha shook her head. ‘They were my father’s retainers. Not that they told me straight off, but they escorted me to LeMarc. At the time I thought—’
‘Could we take this reminiscing somewhere a little more private?’ Nolan interrupted.
Fenn eyed him. ‘Is this another of your father’s retainers?’
‘No. Captain Nolan and Guardsman Croft are from Havre.’
The older woman made a grudging sound in her throat. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘I …’ Risha looked at Nolan.
‘I have a place not far from here. You’d be welcome. Your friends, too.’ She made the last sound doubtful, but the men fell into step without comment.
‘Truly, though, was there much trouble with the Elion guard?’
‘I had to do a lot of talking and they impounded River Maid. Permanently, it transpired.’
‘Fenn, no!’
She shrugged. ‘It was time I changed trades. The river run was getting stale.’
Risha was silent. Three years ago the woman had ferried her from Leighton nearly as far as Whitelaw, along the way rescuing her from capture by the Elion guard. And paid a high price for her aid.
Fenn nudged her shoulder. ‘There’s nothing to feel bad about. I’m doing all right. I’m in the lake ferrying business these days, in partnership with Olli. I manage this end and he manages Caledon.’
A broad smile lit Risha’s face. ‘How is he?’
‘Good, and likely better for news of you. Which way are you travelling?’
‘It hasn’t been decided,’ Nolan cut in before Risha could reply.
Fenn watched their exchange of scowls. ‘Well, you’ve the night at least to think on it. This way.’
She turned in at a ramshackle building that looked as if it might once have been a warehouse. Was still a warehouse. Beyond the derelict-looking door the place was stacked with neat piles of cargo: bales of wool and linen flax, crates of flagons, rolls of hide, barrels.
‘Come through to the back.’
Behind a partition there was a small living space. Its compact organisation reminded Risha of Fenn’s riverboat.
Nolan turned a chair to face the small stove and steered Risha into it. Fenn riddled the embers in the firebox and fed kindling onto their red glow. ‘So,’ she said, once the blaze was established. ‘Let’s hear it.’
Nolan looked uncomfortable. ‘We had a little trouble.’
‘That, it wouldn’t take a genius to work out. But you’re surely not telling me that our lady isn’t safe in her own country?’
‘It’s not me who’s at risk,’ Risha began.
‘Have there been any rumours?’ Nolan asked.
Fenn shook her head. ‘Celebrations when we learned Lady Arishara was back where she belonged. No whisper of anything since.’ She paused. ‘Should there have been?’
Nolan said nothing. Risha’s eyes travelled from him to Croft and back to Fenn. She took a breath. Risha trusted Fenn with her life; the woman had already proved that trust valid.
‘We were travelling north to meet Talben when we were ambushed by Goltoy’s nephew. We were lucky to get away.’
‘You were ambushed in Havre?’
‘At Bray.’
Fenn’s gaze shifted to Nolan. ‘You dealt with the problem?’
‘As best we could in the circumstances.’
‘Harbin thinks he captured me,’ Risha said. It sounded idiotic, spoken aloud. ‘But it’s my friend Lyse he has. She pretended to be me.’
‘Is she alone?’
Guilt crawled up her throat. ‘He has Ciaran as well.’
‘Your mother’s cousin? Athan’s wife? That’s …’ Fenn paused, her eyes sliding between them. ‘If Harbin finds out he’s been duped …’ She left her sentiments unspoken.
‘Lyse’s life would be at risk,’ Risha finished.
‘And Ciaran’s,’ Fenn observed.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Fenn broke it abruptly. ‘Tea?’
‘Fenn, do you know whether my father’s retainer, Gorth — you met him, he was one of the men who stopped River Maid — might still be in Caledon? He was visiting Olli on my behalf.’
‘No, but I can ask; I’m heading back across the lake tomorrow.’
‘He left for Elion ten days ago. I received a bird the day we left Havreport saying he planned to leave for Caledon the following day.’ She glanced at Nolan. ‘It would be about the same distance from Elion to Caledon as from Havreport to Bray?’
‘He’d have been travelling faster than we were, even if he was in no hurry.’
Thinking of the days they’d lingered in Tatton, Risha tightened her mouth. ‘Even so, it’s possible he’s still in Caledon. If he is … Fenn, could you take us with you? No, hear me out.’ She raised a hand to fend off Nolan’s objection. ‘Donnel will receive one message claiming I�
��m taken by Westlaw and another saying I’m safe. Which will he take to be the truth? Have you thought how he might react when Athan’s message arrives?’
‘Granted,’ Nolan said. ‘But if Gorth is to be found, Fenn can vouch for your safety.’
‘I can,’ the woman agreed. ‘And arrange for a courier if he is not. You might give me a token to send to your father.’
‘I gave my tokens to Lyse.’ Risha sent a brief prayer that they would prove sufficient. ‘And a token is only that. Donnel must be sure that I’m safe.’
‘It’s an unnecessary risk,’ Nolan said.
‘Caledon is the last place Goltoy would think to find me — especially when he believes me safely in the keeping of his nephew.’
‘Goltoy is not the only risk,’ Nolan said. ‘Caledon is a den of thieves and cut-throats. I wouldn’t send my own sister without a troop to guard her honour.’
‘If Gorth is willing, it might be better I bring him to you,’ Fenn suggested.
There was a bubble of silence. ‘That would be a better option,’ Nolan conceded. ‘How long will it take to sail to Caledon and back?’
‘With the wind in my favour: a day, two at most.’
‘Can you put ashore at Merren Bay?’ Nolan asked.
‘Hull is easier. There’s no jetty at Merren.’
‘Hull is too busy.’
Fenn shrugged. ‘It can be done. You’d meet me there?’
Nolan nodded.
‘It will take three days to ride to Merren. How will I find you?’
‘We’ll keep a watch on the bay.’
Risha yawned suddenly and Nolan stood. ‘We’ll take our leave.’
‘Easier to stop here,’ Fenn said. ‘Arishara can take my bed. There’s plenty of space for the two of you in the warehouse. It’s not luxurious, but it’s discreet,’ she added, reading Nolan’s hesitation.
Croft spoke. ‘What about the horses?’
‘There’s a yard out back. You can stable them there.’
Risha closed her eyes. The adrenaline that had fuelled their four-day flight had abruptly deserted her, leaving her flat as a fallen leaf. On top of that, her shoulder ached.
‘You’ve worn her thin, Guardsman,’ she heard Fenn say.
Fenn led her to the bedroom and helped her shrug out of her rumpled clothes, a soft ‘tsk’ escaping her lips when she saw the bruising across Risha’s collarbone.
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