Laughter rippled through the trees, startled and bright. “Then step forward. Let me see this new queen of my kingdom.”
I inhaled a slow breath. If Kallias objected, he would stop me. I nudged my horse ahead, passing him and Seliora. The incline flattened into a rough clearing. A boulder jutted from the cliff face of the Andeluith like a broken tooth.
A goat stood upon it.
Moonlight broke through the clouds at that instant, silvering stone and horn. A rider sat astride the animal’s broad back.
My lips parted before I corrected myself and slammed them closed. The woman’s skin glowed pale beneath the moon. Midnight hair lay braided over one shoulder. Dark garments clung close, merging with mountain shadow.
Goat Riders.
The animal stood nearly as tall as a pony, thick coat stirring in the wind. Long horns curved back from its skull, framing the rider’s legs. Blue eyes with horizontal pupils blinked at me. Its jaw worked in steady rotation, unconcerned.
“You wear no mantle,” the rider called, her voice melodic rather than the grunt of a warrior.
“Crossing an open plain into enemy territory draped in Radaan’s gold would be nearly as absurd as a woman riding a goat.”
Her laughter rang clear, easy. She guided the creature sideways with a bitless bridle, then loosed the reins. It descended the boulder with nimble precision, hooves finding holds no horse could manage.
A small shape bounded after her.
Then another.
My chest tightened at the sight of four goat kids launching down the rock face. Two mottled black and white. Two pale with dark knees and stripes along their backs. Tiny bleats pierced the stillness as they skittered behind the larger goat. Packs, absurdly small and neat, were strapped across their backs. They darted about, tails wagging with innocent delight.
“It is an honor to meet you, Queen Nienna. I am Anna Elizabeth of Sol. This is Lemella.”
“Claydon’sol succeeded, then?” I studied the long-haired goat and her improbable rider. She stood head and shoulders shorter than I did from the saddle, but the creature bore her weight with ease.
Pain flickered across her face. “Gayle left orders. If anything befell Sol, we were to ready Lemella and take her and the kids to safety. I wish he could see her now.” She forced a smile. “She cannot carry a warrior, but she carries me.”
Anna was slight, fine-boned, a waif of a woman. No armor shielded her narrow frame; only a small crossbow hung from her saddle.
My gaze drifted back to the kids. They bounced in wild arcs, packs jostling, utterly fearless.
“Phill, Turk, Lavinna, and Ariana,” Anna said. “They bear my supplies. Enough to climb and descend.”
The rest of my group edged closer, and she bowed from her seat to Kallias. “My king. The honor is mine.”
“Anna of Sol,” he replied. “I never imagined one of Claydon’s goats would accept a rider.”
“I suspect she views me as nothing more than an opinionated burden,” she mused, color warming her cheeks in the moonlight. “Forgive me for asking you to make the trek here. I cannot cross the plains with her. If the Velli saw us, we would lose our advantage.”
“You are one rider.” Kallias narrowed his eyes. “What advantage can that bring, unless you conceal a herd of giant goats in Sol?”
“Lemella alone bears me. Er’oer and Niklaus remain locked within the city. There is no escape for them without alerting your son.” She wet her lips, resolve battling nerves. “Your Harvester sought entry to the manor. We can provide it.”
Kallias’ expression did not shift at the mention of Tallon. “The Manor in the Mountains cannot be breached.”
“Not by horse or man,” Anna agreed. “Dragons cannot approach without drawing ballista fire. Tallon erected them first. Lemella can carry me along paths unseen. I can reach the tunnel door. The main entrance is heavily guarded.”
“And the tunnel isn’t?” Greaves asked.
“Manned by men alone, not siege engines. Clear the outer pass with a dragon. Ride hard for the door. I will have it open.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and her hands clutched the reins, leaving them slack. Her legs dangled, boots barely filling their stirrups. Moonlight traced the delicate line of her jaw—definitely a noble. The crossbow looked almost too heavy for her frame.
“Is there no one else?” Kallias asked the Harvester, having made the same assessment I had.
