Part 18 (1/2)

”Until we discovered be had been beset by bandits. He was traveling alone.” Gortin shrugs. ”Even in a land as ordered as Dumar, when one reaches the Sudbergs, there are places for evildoers to hide.” The red-uniformed Dumaran extends a pouch. ”We returned his effects to you, as his lord, since we were headed to see you.”

”How convenient,” Dencer responds mildly, taking the large Canvas sack and setting it upon the desk without opening it.

”It was the least we could do. We were already riding this way, and it appeared that this fellow bad been heading home.” Gortin smiles blandly.

”I am curious. How did you know this ...person... was the one who visited Lord Ehara?”

Gortin bows. ”I could not be precisely certain, my lord, but there were certain indications. This Slevn worn a gray cloak and trousers, and so did the unfortunate we found. His purse was gone, but he had tucked a scroll with Lord Ehara's official seal inside the lining of his cloak, and a s.h.i.+ny fresh-mihted gold. Lord Ebara sent the scroll with him. It was still sealed, and we didn't open it, seeing as it was addressed to you. It be in the pouch.”

”The bandits did not slit or take his cloak?”

”It was covered with blood, Lord Dencer. They were hasty, from the signs.”

”Tell me,” says Dencer, standing erect by the desk, cranelike, but a predatory crane. 'Might anyone in Dumar know why this-what did you say his name was?-this fellow went to see Lord Ehara? Was he a trader or some such?”

Gortin shrugs. ”None would know but Lord Ehara. Lord Ehara saw him alone. That is why, when we came across his body, I had thought to inform you when we arrived.”

”My thanks for your... rect.i.tude, Captain.” Dencer frowns. ”Surely, you and your squad did not ride all the way from Dumaria merely to return the effects of an unfortunate traveler.”

”No. Ser.” Gortin bows again, and extends a scroll, trimmed in gilt and sealed with both red wax and a scarlet ribbon. ”Lord Ehara sent us to offer his friends.h.i.+p. Lord Ehara understands that all must be neighbors and friends in these unsettled times.”

”There is friends.h.i.+p, and there is friends.h.i.+p.” Dencer observes.

Gortin turns and takes a velvet pouch from the lancer who stands behind him, then extends that. ”A token of the quality and sincerity of Lord Ehara's desire to demonstrate his most earnest desire to establish friends.h.i.+p between his lands and yours of Stromwer.”

Dencer lifts the pouch. ”He makes a weighty gesture indeed.” The pouch goes beside the first on the desk.

”Your lord has a way with gestures.” He smiles, although the hard glitter does not leave his eyes. ”After riding so far with such a generous gesture, you must join us for the evening meal. Your lancers will be fed with my armsmen.

”I would be most pleased. I understand you have a most talented consort.”

”Ah yes, I do.” Dencer's smile vanishes, and he looks down at the polished wooden floor. ”Alas, she is indisposed, and will not be joining us. At times, I fear for her health. These times have weighed hard upon her. You know that she was held in Falcor, and she has yet to recover from the. . . effects of that. . . stay.”

”Oh... I had not heard. I am so sorry Gortin offers a solicitous smile. ”Lord Ehara had said that these times have indeed fallen hard upon some of Defalk”

”We do what we can, and we can but hope that the surroundings here will ensure her full recovery.”

”With such a burden, Lord Dencer,” says Gortin gravely, ”I could not impose upon your hospitality. That would be asking far too much of your charity and goodwill.”

”Nonsense, your presence and news will divert me. Surely, you would not gainsay me that in, as you put it, this time of trouble?” Dencer offers a tentative smile.

”Are you sure of that? We would not add any burden to those you already bear”

”I would be most pleased to hear of your lord and of how matters fare in Dumar these days. Most pleased.” Dencer nods, and then brushes back his untidy hair.

II

THEMA.

Anna stood in the saddle for a moment, trying to stretch her legs. After just two days in the saddle, her legs ached-youth spell or no youth spell.

The fine, cold rain that had begun to sleet around her and the others in the last gla.s.s, just before midmorning- when they were nowhere close to any real shelter-didn't help her mood much, or her legs. The warm rains of the previous week had heralded spring, according to Skent and even Ytrude, but the mist that fell around her was anything but warm.

”Spring?” she said, more to herself than anyone.

”It is spring. You can see some shoots in the fields,” answered Alvar, riding beside her ”The roads have almost dried.” His fingers stroked the leather of his reins, almost absently.

”Let's hope they stay that way. The last thing we need is more muddy roads.”

”Indeed, lady.” Captain Alvar nodded, then touched his black beard with his left hand.

Anna's eyes went to the Falche River, a muddy swatch of water that filled perhaps a third of the riverbed to her left. The scrub by the river's edge, and the rushes and gra.s.ses, remained. tannish brown and bent downstream- the legacy of the Evult's flood of the past harvest season. A pair of teals paddled in the backwater formed by a sandbar, apparently indifferent to the chill mist-rain.

Farinelli whuffed and tossed his head, as if to fling dampness out of his eyes. . . or something. Anna didn't pretend to know much about horses, except how to feed, saddle, and groom the big palomino gelding and to pay attention to the signals he sent. She didn't always understand them, but she'd learned that Farinelli had a reason for anything he did. Then, she supposed most horses did, unlike people, who all too often seemed to act against their own best interests, or for no reason at all.

She laughed softly to herself. Were her thoughts getting to be like those of the horsey types who seemed to prefer horses to people? Those people she'd never thought she'd understand.

Alvar looked over from his mount inquiringly.

”I'm begining to understand why some people prefer horses to people.”

”Horses don't talk back unless you mistreat them,” the vetetan armsman said. ”For most mounts, kindness goes farther than with people.” He readjusted the oiled leather poncho, and driblets of water skidded off the dark leather toward the rain-darkened clay of the road. So far, the rain hadn't been heavy enough to turn the road to mud-yet.

”How much farther to Cheor?” Jimbob rode behind Anna and, for the past few deks, beside Jecks.

Anna smiled at Jimbob's question to his grandsire. The impatience of the young with journeys hadn't changed between worlds or universes. Of her own children, Mario had been the worst, especially on the long drives from New England back to c.u.mberland to visit family, the trips that Avery had avoided whenever he could.

Now... now she was ruling a kingdom, and she couldn't even use her sorcery to see Mario or Elizabetta.

In a season, maybe? Brill bad said that he had been able to see the mist worlds-earth mostly-in his reflecting pool if he were sparing in his attempts. The sorceress shrugged her stiffening shoulders.

”Two days, mayhap three. Or four, should the rain fall harder and the roads turn to mud.” Jecks' words were clipped, as though the white-haired and hazel-eyed lord's thoughts were elsewhere.

Anna respected Jecks, his honesty, his comparative open-mindedness, and his intelligence. And there was definitely chemistry between them... but there was also a huge cultural gap-and the endless problems of the country she'd ended up ruling as regent for his grandson.

Anna glanced up at the indistinct grayness. Was the rain lessening? How could she ask for it not to rain, when Defalk had suffered such dryness for so long? Especially in The case of a gentle rain.

”There might be a way station at Hygris,” Jecks offered, easing his mount onto the shoulder of the road and drawing abreast of Anna. He gestured at a group of buildings emerging out of the mist and rain ahead.

”There wouldn't be any real shelter for the lancers, would there?”