She looked at him pointedly. He patted himself for a moment or two, then drew forth from beneath his cloak a completely inadequate dagger.
Paien burst out in hearty laughter.
"You insult me," she said, feeling not a little foolish and quite a bit like she had started something she could not back away from without losing a great deal of her pride.
"He would bore you," Adhémar said. "He never goes to the lists."
"How would he know what they are?" she asked, turning to Adhémar. "Or you, for that matter? Do you venture in your lord's secretly when his garrison is away?"
Adhémar drew his sword with a growl. Morgan shot Miach a look of promise, which he accepted by promptly resheathing his dagger and going to look for somewhere to sit. Fortunately for her pride, Morgan found Adhémar to be almost worthy of that very bright sword he carried. Of course, he was no match for her, even after the weakness of that unsettlingly long convalescence, but there were few men who were?and that wasn't pride that spoke but experience.
She dragged the affair out much longer than was needful, more for the exercise than anything else. She finally caught the hilt of Adhémar's blade with the crossbar of hers and sent it flying.
Miach reached up without looking and caught the sword by the hilt. He stabbed it into the ground and went back to drawing in the dirt.
"Luck," Adhémar said, his chest heaving.
Morgan didn't dignify that with a comment. She resheathed her sword, then walked over to see what Adhémar's brother was doing. He had drawn a rather decent map with his very pitiful dagger.
"Here we are," he said, pointing to the southwest corner of a continent. "Here is Angesand," he said, drawing a line north and east. "Farther east is Ainneamh where the elves dwell, north for the dwarves, and farther north for the wild men of Gairn, but you must pass through Wychweald to reach them. That is quite a ways east, though, and perhaps not your destination. If you want north," he said, "drawing a line straight up to Tor Neroche, you must have a horse. Unless you've months to spend walking the distance."
"Nay," she said, finally, "I do not have months. I am in a fair bit of haste."
"But you will not say to where you are in haste?" Miach asked.
"I cannot," she said. "Not until I must." She looked at Paien. "What do you think?"
"I do not care overmuch for horses," Paien said slowly, "but I cannot deny young Master Miach has a point. The question now becomes, where we will go to procure them?"
"Angesand," Miach answered promptly.
Adhémar snorted. "You jest! Hearn of Angesand would not sell one of his prized mounts to a king for less than a king's ransom. He will not sell any at all to an unknown company such as this?for any money."
"How would you know that, lad?" Paien asked in a friendly fashion.
"Rumor," Adhémar said. "Have you not heard the same in your travels?"
"Aye," Paien said, "but I have traveled much."
"As have I," Adhémar returned. He looked at Morgan. "Search in another place."
She looked at Paien, who nodded his agreement.
"Hearn of Angesand is notoriously choosey about his buyers," he agreed. "You would have to offer him more gold than you'd see in a lifetime, and then some. In return you might get one of his nags."
Morgan looked out over the plain that spread before them like a brown cloth. She saw nothing of settlements, but that did not mean there were none. What she did see was an enormous distance that she couldn't hope to cross in a pair of fortnights, even if she ran.
"We'll see what we can come by," she said, turning back to look at her company. "And hope for the best." She looked down at Miach's map, then looked at him briefly before she smudged it with her boot.
It was one thing to look at a map hung on Nicholas's wall; it was another thing entirely to be faced with the reality of what it represented. "I will remember that."
"My pleasure."
"You should find a sword."
"I might cut myself."
Camid laughed and reached out to pull Miach to his feet by the back of his tunic. "Don't torment her. It puts her in a foul humor and she can be quite unpleasant when she's in a foul humor. Now, you aren't serious about not having a sword, are you?"
