Firebrand

Drent accused her of running away from swordmaster training even though he knew very well she was leaving by the king’s command. “Waste of effort to train you Riders,” he grumbled at her during her final session. She had ended up on the floor only three times, an improvement.

Elgin was mournful at the news that he was losing his able copyist. She recommended Daro for the job, though she wasn’t sure Daro would appreciate it.

She was excused from her other regular duties as well, so she could run about the castle for supplies and pore over maps. Mara, in her role as Chief Rider, assisted, but it was Estral who needed more help in finding adequate travel gear.

Enver, for his part, roamed the castle, looking into its nooks and crannies, studying tapestries and statues, knocking on the breastplates of suits of armor that stood along the corridors. Unlike Lhean and the other Eletians, he chose to spend his nights in a guest room in the diplomatic wing.

When the day came to leave, Karigan threw her stuffed saddlebags over one shoulder, and the longsword over the other. Her saber she wore at her hip, and she carried her bonewood staff at cane length in a scabbard that could be worn on her back or strapped to her saddle. She gave Ghost Kitty, who was sprawled on her bed, a final pat on the head. He’d probably start staying with Mara again. She was about to stride from her room, but paused and turned around and went to her desk. Setting her staff aside, she opened a certain drawer and withdrew the paper that held the image of Cade.

“I’m going away for a while,” she murmured, and she touched his cheek, but felt only the texture of the paper. She closed her eyes trying to retain the image of him in her mind. After a deep breath, she returned the paper to its drawer where it would remain safe and, grabbing her staff, left her chamber without looking back.

Most of the Riders were out and about, but she bade farewell to the few she encountered. She also found Anna lugging her ash buckets and tools toward the common room. She now wore the livery of the royal household, a gray chemise and skirts with a fresh white apron, an improvement over her old allotment.

“Hello, Anna,” Karigan said.

“Oh, Sir Karigan, I heard you were leaving.”

“Yes, I’ll be gone for a little while. How is your new position?”

“It’s wonderful. The queen is kind, and even Mistress Evans treats me well. She never screams at me or accuses me of shirking my duties.”

Karigan frowned. Had Anna been so mistreated working with the general castle staff?

“I have a real bed chamber now,” Anna continued, “and have to share it with only one other person! But . . .”

“But?”

Anna glanced over her shoulder as if gazing off into another world; then her shoulders sagged. “Nothing. I couldn’t be happier.”

If Karigan had the time, she’d try to pry out whatever it was Anna had on her mind, but she didn’t. Fortunately, she had asked Mara to keep an eye on the girl. Something about having helped Anna during the attack on the castle had made Karigan feel responsible for her.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Anna said.

“I’ll be back sooner than we think.” Karigan said it with more force than she intended. There would be, she had promised herself, no traveling to another time. No crossing through the layers of the world. “If you need anything, look for Mara, or if she’s not around, Tegan or Daro.”

“Thank you,” Anna said, but she still looked disappointed.

“I’ve got to go now. You take care.”

“Good-bye, Sir Karigan.”

Karigan went on with the hope that Anna would fare well. Estora, she knew, would be good to her, and the Riders would keep an eye on her as well.

Estral and Enver awaited her just inside the castle entrance, each with their own packs and weapons. Estral wore a longknife beneath her coat, and Enver his sword, knife, and bow and arrows.

“Greetings, Galadheon.”

“Good morning. Are we ready?”

“Better be, I guess,” Estral said. She looked a little nervous.

They stepped outside into the gray day, the clouds gravid with snow. Karigan wondered if Tegan’s ability to know the weather was failing, for she’d predicted fair skies. Perhaps it would clear off. The captain and Mara awaited them on the drive with Condor, Estral’s gelding, and the pony.

Karigan glanced at Enver. “Are you walking north?”

“Eletians do prefer the land beneath their feet,” he replied, “but I will mount when we leave the city.”

On what? she wondered. The wind?

When they reached the captain and Mara, the captain held a message satchel out for her. “The king’s letter to the p’ehdrose and related documents,” she said, “should you find them. And a box of Dragon Droppings for your journey.”

Karigan smiled and took the satchel. She then busied herself strapping the longsword and saddlebags to Condor’s saddle. She slung the bonewood across her back and took the reins from Mara.

“Leg up?” Mara offered.

“I would, but Enver is on foot.”

“I will keep up with your horses,” he said. “I do not mind if you ride. I will lead the pony.”

“His name is Bane,” Mara said.

“Well, that’s ominous,” Estral commented from atop her gelding.

Karigan glanced at the shaggy mountain pony with his rakish forelock, their supplies laden on his back. She hoped he did not live up to his name.