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It was a beautiful summer morning, promising to be warm. Achoo and I followed the Courier’s Road up along the side of the bay. Soon all that was on my mind was Achoo, running ahead but always in my view, the thump of my feet on the ground, and the sun on my head and back. Now and then Achoo would look back at me and grin, her jaws open, her tongue hanging out. Running was her favorite thing to do, always. Our only stops were at places where she could get a drink of water. Waiting for her, I could feed Corus dirt to the dust spinners I had met on other visits and free them of their burden of city talk. I refilled my small pouches with Port Caynn dirt for any new spinners I might meet on the road after I’d done so. Dust spinners are always grateful for a taste of foreign soil, something new, and they often give me fine gleanings of information in return.
We went back to Serenity’s as the city clocks struck one, not having heard from Master Farmer or Serenity. I found them eating a midday meal. “Any word?” I asked as, with my agreement, Achoo went to get the bone Cook was waving for her.
Master Farmer was gawping at me. It was Serenity who replied, “Naught.”
“Then I’m off to the bathhouse,” I said. “As soon as I collect a change of clothes.” Since Master Farmer was still gawping, I demanded, “Why do you stare at me like a countryman at the fair?”
“You ran all that time?” he asked, plainly gobsmacked.
“Why do you think Tunstall is the cook?” I asked him. “I’m the one keeps up with the scent hound. Mostly that’s on foot, to see the things she doesn’t care about, like trail signs, hoof marks, or suchlike.” I ran upstairs and fetched my belongings.
When I returned from bathing, things were very different. A cart loaded with leather packs sat in the courtyard. A cove, who I supposed was the carter, was carrying two of them into the house. Out came Tunstall, looking like a happy lad indeed.
“Cooper! Did you miss me?” he bellowed.
I grinned at him. “Why should I? I knew you’d be back.”
The sound of our voices, or mayhap his voice, brought Lady Sabine of Macayhill around the side of the house. “Beka!” she said cheerfully. “Goddess bless your heart and Maiden keep your arm true!” She clasped arms with me in a soldier’s hard grip. Just the sight of her made my heart feel light. She was dressed for the road in a brown cotton tunic over matching wide-legged breeches. Strips of gold embroidery decorated the collar and hems of the tunic. Like me today she wore her long brown hair braided and coiled, but the pins that held it in place were spiked steel, useful as weapons. Her riding gloves were tucked into her belt and she wore comfortable old boots. At her waist hung her longsword and dagger in their well-used sheaths, on a battered leather belt. She was one of those lady knights who believed in the work of a knight, not the glory of it. It was perfectly reasonable that she and Tunstall had met at a barroom brawl. I had tucked my fears for this Hunt well back, but I had not forgotten them. With my lady here, looking ready to fight and ride, several of them vanished.
“I was settling Drummer and Steady in the stable out back,” she explained. “Isn’t this a fine thing, getting to work with you and Tunstall? Who would have dreamed it?”
“I’m glad of the chance, though not the cause,” I replied.
“No, nor would any sane person be throwing flowers over it,” she told me. “But we will do our duty by the realm, and if the gods are merciful, we shall see our way clear.”
“Are you going to gossip, woman, or help get all this inside?” Tunstall called cheerfully. “I’m not paying you to laze about!”
She went toward him with her long-legged stride. “You aren’t paying me a copper shaving, remember?” she replied. “Impudent hill crawler!” She slung one pack over her shoulder and carried another by its strap. Tunstall had three. I gathered up what looked like a case for a bow as well as other, smaller packs. I wasn’t about to say anything to the others, but the addition of Drummer, my lady’s destrier, and Steady, her riding mount, was not a welcome one to me. They were a size down from the great horses bred for male knights, but they were nearabout as slow. We would have to go at their pace as much as at Achoo’s. The advantage of having an armored knight with noble connections, longsword, and bow was set off sommat by the speed her horses would cost us.
We finished unloading the cart. Serenity greeted Sabine as if she had a noble at her house every day, while Cook turned out a second lunch that would have pleased anyone, let alone a lady knight. There was enough for Tunstall and me as well—more than enough for me, and just enough for Tunstall. Master Farmer joined us, too, but for talk, not food.
“What of the capital?” Serenity asked when Lady Sabine had eaten enough to lean back and take a breath. “I’ve heard from the great temple there that the Chancellor of Mages has been murdered and the king will not allow a replacement to be appointed.”
Lady Sabine nodded. “That’s only just changed this morning. For now the First Priest of the Mithrans and the Eldest Daughter are dealing with things of magic. Hereward of Genlith has taken command of the palace. The Mithrans confirm it and documents under the king’s seal arrived with the orders. All those presently living in the palace are forbidden to leave it. Those who have left in the days since Gershom summoned these three”—she nodded to Tunstall, Master Farmer, and me—“are ordered to return and remain, under penalty of arrest. And the city is … under guard. Nobles and mages are not permitted to enter, and those who try to leave are turned back. Those who do leave are closely examined by soldiers and mages, to keep anyone who is disguised. Even the herds are being searched as they come in through the Forest Gate.”
“The nobles are furious,” Tunstall said.
Master Farmer rested his chin on his hand and favored us with his fool’s grin. “So will the mages be.”
I did not care about what went on in Corus, unless the kidnappers had taken our lad there. It was possible. What better place to hide him than in one of the country’s biggest slave markets? But, were I Lord Gershom, I’d have had trusted Dogs search the prince’s palace rooms and then take their scent hounds to the docks and the slave markets right off to see if the kidnapped prince was there.
The others talked, but I only listened. I was relieved when Sabine asked me to guide her to the bathhouse. When she invited me to bear her company, I did so, sitting on a bench rather than bathe twice in one day. We talked of weapons and fashions. She told me she’d seen Aniki two nights before, called out on challenge by a Rat who thought he had the right to rule her district. Sabine was proud because Aniki was putting to use the sword lessons Sabine gave her. It was one of my lady’s special cuts that my friend had used to end the fight and her challenger.
Those Gentle Mother worshippers could learn a great deal from Lady Sabine and Aniki.
On our return, we found we’d been invited to a second dinner with Okha and Nestor. The good news was that there were no deaths in the fire that had called Nestor away the night before. Master Farmer had straightened when Nestor told us that. Until then I hadn’t realized he’d been slouching a little, burdened by his failure to stop the fire.
Back at Serenity’s, I took Achoo for a run down along the harbor and back, enjoying the sea air and the smells of fish, salt water, and tar. A couple of coves thought I looked interesting, but Achoo’s instant, growling arrival at my side convinced them I was not worth the trouble.
“I can defend myself,” I told her as I always do. She whuffed at me and ran at my side from then on. She doesn’t believe me, though she’s seen me do it thousands of times.
Once home I lingered in the backyard for a time, playing with Achoo under Pounce’s supervision. Then I sat by the little stream, listening to the sounds it made. I didn’t know I had nodded off until Serenity came to wake me.
Why did you do that? Pounce complained to her. Do you know how hard it’s been to get her to sleep?
“She’ll catch her death out here, Master Cat,” Serenity insisted. “You have fur, she does not. Come in or not, as
you like, but she needs her bed.”
All three of us returned to my room. I was awake enough to note down today’s events, but now I am sleepy once more.
Please, Great Mithros, god of Dogs and the law, please take us back to the Hunt soon. Can’t you hear that lad crying for his mother?
Tuesday, June 12, 249
begun at Ladyshearth Lodgings
Coates Lane
Port Caynn
I woke with the dawn, dreading another useless day. Cleaned up and dressed, I was feeding grain to the pigeons on my window ledge just to vex the cross-grained maid when Tunstall hammered like thunder on my door. “No lazy day for us, Cooper!” he bellowed. “We’re leaving!”
I yanked the door open. Tunstall was in uniform, a heavy-looking leather package in his hands. “Orders?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“Arenaver,” he said, his voice scarcely audible. “The ship waits. Breakfast and then we go.” He gave me a heavy black leather pouch that clinked. “You look after the money, as usual.” He drew out a thin packet made of parchment. Cooper was written on the front in Lord Gershom’s dashing hand. “Your copy of our orders.” I took it. The packet bulged with the shapes of wax seals. “And maps that my lord says are better than what you have. You may keep them after.” Those came in a leather envelope, small enough to fit into the big one. I grinned at Tunstall. Everyone who knew me also knew my love of maps. Tunstall tweaked my nose. “Hurry up, then!” he ordered, and went into his own room.
Achoo and Pounce raced out the door. I knew Pounce would arrange for their meal in the kitchen. It had taken a few visits for Cook to get used to a talking cat, but now they were the best of friends.
I hurried to put away what few things lay out, then donned my tunic over my shirt. I checked my belt for all the items I needed to carry on it, then buckled that around my waist. Grabbing my shoulder pack and the lightest of my longer packs, I rushed downstairs.
A cart in the courtyard was already half loaded. Master Farmer came to it just behind me, carrying a shoulder pack and two long packs. “Would you like help with yours?” he asked me. “I’ve brought all of mine down.”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’ve but the one more. Achoo and Pounce pack themselves.”
He grinned at me. “See you over breakfast.” He looked up at the sky, stretching. “Gods, it’s good to be moving at last!”
Lady Sabine came around us to lay a covered bow and a pack that clanked of armor in the bed of the cart. Riding saddles and war saddles were already there. “So mote it be,” she said reverently. “I’ve been having too much quiet of late!”
When we had everything in the cart, we had our last good breakfast at Serenity’s for the time being. She kissed all of us farewell on both cheeks.
Lady Sabine had put Drummer and Steady on long reins and a riding saddle on Steady. She rode near the head of the cart while Tunstall lolled on the packs, Master Farmer sat by the carter, and I walked alongside with Achoo. Pounce rode on Tunstall’s lap, flicking his tail at mere street cats.
At the naval yards we found our new peregrine ship, the Osprey. It was the biggest of the four at the dock, with a fierce sea eagle painted at the prow and a tall, raised afterdeck. Sailors looked down at us and spat into the water.
Dogs came from the guardhouse in front of the dock. They checked the orders that had come with the wad of documents that Tunstall received at dawn. Once the Dogs had accepted our right to sail, they stepped out of the way and let the carter drive onto the dock itself. When we reached the ship, sailors came down to help us collect our gear from the cart. Master Farmer and Tunstall were ahead of me, Master Farmer warning the crew away from his own things. I’d already put the pouch with the coin and my orders and maps in my smallest pack. I slung it onto one shoulder.
“Gods defend me,” Master Farmer muttered under his breath as we walked toward the ship. One of the folk on the afterdeck, dressed in a long, pale blue tunic under a deeper blue cloak pinned at the shoulder, was waving to him. Master Farmer raised a hand burdened with the straps of three bags.
“Someone you know?” Tunstall asked quietly. The finely dressed cove was at enough distance that he wouldn’t hear.
“Iceblade Regengar,” Master Farmer told us, his voice soft. “Graduate of Carthak University and a snob. He bores the bones out of me.”
“Good thing you’ll be asleep through the voyage, then,” Tunstall said cheerfully. “What does he do?”
“Besides talk about his skill as a lover and his last woman? His specialties are wind and weather magic,” Master Farmer replied. “His family builds peregrine ships.”
We went up the broad gangplank and climbed narrow steps that led to the deck. Lady Sabine came behind us, coaxing an unhappy Drummer into the hold. “What happens to the horses?” Master Farmer asked the sailors who led us to the passengers’ cabin under the afterdeck.
“One of the mages handles them,” the youngest sailor replied as he thrust our bags under the bunks secured to the walls. “She gets them to sleep layin’ down. They’re strapped in soft. Nothin’ too good for a noble’s horses in His Majesty’s navy!”
We walked outside again in time to see Lady Sabine lead Steady below. Tunstall and I followed them. A small Yamani mot stood with Drummer in a stall with a straw-covered floor, keeping her hands on his side. Fleece-lined straps already circled his barrel to hold him at the middle of the stall. Pink fire shone around the Yamani as she and the warhorse knelt. When he lay on his side, she kept her hands on him. Lady Sabine shifted uneasily and Tunstall went to her, putting an arm around her shoulders for her comfort. Moving like they’d done this a hundred times before, the sailors who waited nearby fitted more fleece-lined straps around the gelding’s muzzle and legs. When they were ready, the mage raised Drummer’s great body some inches above the straw so that the coves could place straps along his length, under his tail and around his chest. Once the sailors finished, the mage settled Drummer again and wrote a symbol on his side. It shone in pink light while the sailors began to secure the straps on the stall and the side of the ship. Tunstall watched it all, tugging his short beard. I wondered what he was thinking about.
The mage went to Lady Sabine and bowed. “He has a big heart, that one,” she said. “He will sleep well. I will stay with both your mounts, to keep them from harm.” She turned to go to another stall, where other coves had begun to put the straps around Steady.
My lady looked at her two horses. “Couldn’t I stay here with them?” she asked wistfully. “Just to be sure?”
“You will be in your own slumber. We cannot keep you safely here,” the mage replied over her shoulder. She was already patting Steady’s neck and nose.
I went above. Master Farmer was there ahead of me and had fallen into the clutches of the well-dressed blond mage he’d named Iceblade. “—nice, firm peaches,” Iceblade was saying, his hands shaping the womanfruit he meant. “No pestiferous husband in the way, either—I made certain of that, this time!” The mage’s eyes lit on me. He straightened, and smoothed his shoulder-length hair away from his face. To me he said, “The Gentle Mother weeps to see so beautiful a flower in the coarse gear of a Provost’s Guard.”
I stared at him. A worshipper of the Goddess as Gentle Mother. Did such flummery appeal to any mot of sense?
His smile faltered a little at my glare. Most folk don’t like it when I’m cross with them. As Tunstall keeps telling me, the superstitious ones think I have ghost eyes, or curse eyes, because the color is so pale. Surely a mage ought to know better.
“Forgive me, fair Guardswoman, I did not mean to vex,” Iceblade said.
“I should hope not,” I told him. “Master Farmer, I’ll be in our quarters, if Tunstall asks.” Tunstall was still below with Lady Sabine.
“I’ll come along,” he said, too eagerly for politeness where it concerned Iceblade. “We should see what’s in that bag m’lord give yeh.” He sounded like an Olorun Valley farm lad now, fresh from the furrows
. What was he about? “Mebbe they’s messages and all innit, eh?”
Iceblade produced a great, false-sounding laugh from somewhere around his belly. “Still moving your lips when you read, Farmer?” he asked, putting a sting into it.
Master Farmer shook his head, grinning like an utter looby. “Naw, I hardly has to do that anymore,” he replied. “I’ve got that good with the reading, these last years. Folk expect it, you know, when you do mage work. Even the Provost’s Guards like to see me readin’ now and then.”
I thought Master Farmer wasted his time, tweaking this strutting popinjay, so I went back to the cabin. Master Farmer caught the door before it smashed shut. He held it open for Pounce and Achoo, who trotted in past him, then closed it. “What was that?” I asked.
“I don’t like him,” Master Farmer replied mildly, sounding like his normal self. “He nearly cost the life of a girl lost in the swamp, telling her parents he could find her and I could not. I play the dolt to vex him, because he couldn’t bear it that a seamstress’s unschooled brat found the child.”
