"It would be a welcome reprieve from too much magic," she said quietly.
He looked down at her. "It troubles you?"
She took a deep breath. "I am no coward, but I vow, Miach, that if I had not given Nicholas my word to deliver this blade to the king at Tor Neroche, I would turn around, brave the ship, and return to Melksham." She paused for quite some time. "I don't know if I can carry these burdens much longer."
"It weighs upon you, doesn't it?" he asked softly. "The blade and your dreams?"
"More with every step we take north."
He nodded slowly.
"I want," she said finally, "nothingmore to do with magic, mages, or my dreams.Nothing."
Miach nodded. "I can't blame you."
"I don't blameyou," she said quickly. "Then again, I don't consider you a mage of any sort. You can't help what you can do." She paused. "I suppose neither can I. But I want no more of it than necessary."
And here he was on the verge of plunging her into magic she might never escape from.
"Duty is a difficult thing, at times," he offered finally.
"Hmmm," she said. She took his hand and pulled him along. "Let us be about it, then. Then perhaps we can move on to something else."
He walked with her back to the horses, then swung up into the saddle. Adhémar took the time to curse him, then wheeled his horse about and rode off into the dark. The rest of the company followed. Miach found himself riding next to Morgan, as had become their custom. Even in the dark, he could see the worry on her face.
"Paien was right," she said.
"Aye," Miach agreed.
"Will it grow worse, do you think?"
"I fear so," he admitted.
She was silent for quite awhile. "I fear," she began hesitantly. "I fear they are coming for me."
Miach didn't dare disabuse her of the notion. "It is possible," he said.
Aye, that was indeed possible.
He couldn't count Adhémar's most recent battle on Neroche's northern border. That was a common occurrence. But Morgan had been at the first attack with Adhémar near Istaur. She had been at the second attack with him. She had been at the inn behind them.
But why would Lothar know anything of her?
He shook his head. It made no sense. Just because she could wield a Camanaë spell of un-noticing did not mean she was the possessor of that magic.
Surely there were many alive who could use the spells of Camanaë without having any of that magic flowing through their veins.
Though he couldn't bring a single bloody one of them to mind.
Was it possible that Lothar had been searching for Morgan all along?
"Miach?"
Miach looked at her. Perhaps Adhémar had a point. If Morgan was ensconced in Tor Neroche, she would be safe. Perhaps she would hold the Sword of Angesand and it would remain lifeless in her hand. Her potential to be the wielder would be proved wishful thinking but she would be within the walls where Miach could guard her.
Perhaps his duty would be a good thing in the end.
"Nothing," he said finally.
