HONOR BOUND

Chapter 6

During the next morning Rogher and Lord Thonarr decide, to my chagrin, that we'd be leaving at the crack of dawn on the following day. That means we only have one full day to enjoy the hospitality of Tmer Manor, and if a single day is a short time to start with, it feels shorter still because everybody's mind is on the journey ahead. Not only that, but in the afternoon Lord Thonarr again wants to talk to Rogher. This time he tells me to come along.

The old Lord is brisk and all business, and he's not waiting for us alone. I'm not surprised to see the bride-to-be with him, but the other young woman makes me look twice. She's just a maid, her clothing and subdued air make it clear enough, but the glint of panic in her downcast eyes puts me on edge. What is going on? Unpleasant as it will be for the lady, surely we aren't expected to haul an extra person with us over the mountains?

Rogher notices it, too, but Lord Thonarr waves his sharp question aside.

"No need to worry, young knight," the old man says, "I have lookouts all around and there's been no word of that nuisance Berdar from any of them. No, no, I just want to go through the plans so that we all know what is to be expected."

The plan itself, it transpires, has not changed essentially. The three of us are to get on our way, as quickly and stealthily as possible, while the Manor will continue to look very busy for several more days. Eventually the convoy carrying Lady Inella's dowry will take to the road as well, heavily guarded by the twelve men sent by Lord Jhorell and a few more whom the old Lord will throw in as reinforcements.

There is one addition, though: the maid, who indeed does bear some resemblance to her mistress, has been chosen to travel with the convoy and play the part of the Lady herself.

When the Lord gets this far in his explanation, I notice the maid clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles turn white. I feel sorry for her. If the convoy is attacked, what will happen to her? Will the rogues know that they have been deceived? Will Lord Berdar know, for that matter, and if not, how soon will he find out? He may be Lady Inella's former brother-in-law, but if he's been on foul terms with his brother for a longer time, it's thoroughly possible he wouldn't recognize her at once. Then what?

Not that it would matter too much. Sooner or later he's bound to realize that he's been had, and the hapless maid will be the first one to bear the brunt of his displeasure. Maybe she'll end up as a plaything for his soldiers, or maybe he'll feel really merciful and have her killed on the spot. The thought makes me shudder. I乫m going to say a few prayers to my own gods for her, and maybe I should offer a few to the Revnashi gods as well. Poor woman, she has no say in this.

Lady Inella does have the right to speak her mind, though, and to her honor she does exactly that.

"I don't like this," she says, lips pursed in displeasure. "Is it really necessary to put her in such danger? Couldn't the men be guarding a carriage with just my dowry and pretend that I'm traveling there as well?"

Lord Thonarr shakes his head.

"That will never work. A wagon with just goods in it is able to travel far more roughly than a wagon with passengers, and no matter how we might stress it to them that they must act as if there's somebody inside, they are bound to slip because they know they must hurry. If there is somebody on the lookout for the convoy, they are sure to spot such things."

"But are you sure that they will treat a mere maid respectfully enough?" Lady Inella retorts. "Don't you think they might also slip in that respect? And surely a shrewd spy would spot that, too."

She really is a clever young lady, and the eloquent twinge of Rogher's eyebrow tells me that he totally agrees. Lord Thonarr nods slowly.

"That is something to think about," he says. "Perhaps, depending on how secretly we manage to get you on your journey, we might not tell the men that it's not really you inside the wagon. Knight Rogher, can you say how well they know the plan?"

Rogher considers this for a moment.

"They don't know all of it, my Lord," he says, "but they are not stupid. Even though they haven't been expressly told everything, they will guess enough when I and Zyan disappear and they are sent on their way without us."

"All right then, we'll abandon that plan. But I stand by my decision, Inella. She will travel with the convoy."

The Lady isn't happy but knows that there's not much she can do, so she doesn't press her point, just looks dubious. The maid is sent away, and for much of the afternoon we remain closeted with the Lord and his daughter, discussing the approaching journey in so much detail that my head is spinning. Provisions; choice of horse; details of the terrain around the Manor; location of fields and paths and ravines; distances. After some time everything is just a jumble in my brain that is apparently never going to get used to seeing things from a rider's point of view. I always keep thinking 'now, on foot that means...' instead of taking into account what difference the presence of a horse makes, for better or for worse as the case may be. I'm happy to leave such considerations to my friend who's much better with them.

By the time we get to stretch our legs outside, evening dusk is falling and the servants are busy getting ready to serve the dinner. It should be a pleasant and relaxing event, but the mood is muted: everyone is only too mindful of the early start lurking just behind the corner. Rogher's appetite is not affected, but then I only remember one occasion when he's refused food, and then he was so ill for his wounds that for a day or two I feared for his life.

At least I get to enjoy some more time with Fean and Daell, limited as it is, and take the opportunity to ask Daell about the road he's taken here. Regretfully he tells me that he's used a more southern route and has therefore missed Noragayll Castle completely, nor has he used the footpaths on the mountains; well, why should he have?

"But I promise to you that once you get there safely and all is clear, I'll come to see you there!" he promises. "I'm curious to see this brand new castle with my own eyes. Perhaps I could carry news of it to the North, when I'm headed that way again?"

I bid them good night with a bitter twinge of longing.

Unusually, Rogher has trouble falling asleep. He just tosses and turns until I crawl closer and mold myself to his warm body, then pulls me close, and for a long time we just rub slowly against each other. After coming into my hand he at last murmurs sleepily and snuggles his face into my hair, and although I've been sure that I wouldn't sleep for a moment, his steadily deepening breath pulls me under as well.

Morning comes all too soon. To be more precise, I can only wish it really were morning when my bedfellow wakes up with a start and jolts me awake, too. While I'm still trying to blink my eyes open, there's another cautious knock on the door. Rogher grunts something, swings his legs from underneath the covers and pushes himself up on an elbow.

The floor is freezing cold under my toes, and next to me Rogher is muttering things he'd better not say out loud in the presence of a Lady as he slips on his shirt, tightens the belt of his trousers and pulls the boots on. The fire has died out a while ago so we don't feel in any way tempted to linger with getting into our clothes, nor is there any need to spend time on packing because we didn't see any point in unpacking our saddlebags for just one day.

Only the slightest hint of dawn lights up the sky as we reach the courtyard. Rogher's determined stride echoes from the stone walls around and mingles with the puffs of the horses already waiting there. They stand with drooping heads, their reins held by two bleary-eyed grooms, and I suppress a gleeful smirk. These blokes clearly aren't used to getting up this early in the day, unlike the dairy-maids whom I saw busy at work as we passed by the cow-house just a moment earlier.

There are three other people already standing next to the horses. Lord Thonarr's wife looks tiny next to her still imposing husband, and even though Lady Inella cannot be her own daughter, her face is sad as she says goodbye to her. The young Lady looks the most awake and alert and eager of us all, but I'm too busy to listen what they are saying to each other. I need to help Rogher get our gear all ready, and I just want to get on the horse and glue myself to my friend's back.

He bends down and laces his fingers together. Lady Inella slips a booted foot into the offered step and is hoisted up. She flings a leg over the horse's back, and a moment before the saddle all but disappears under her enormously wide skirt I realize that it's indeed a real saddle, with stirrups on both sides, and not one of those chair-like side-saddles used by many ladies traveling horseback. Thank the gods, it looks like the claims that she's a rider were no exaggeration.

Rogher mounts his horse and pulls me up as well. He waits until I've settled properly, then tightens the reins and turns to look at Lady Inella. She nods.

"Fare well, fare safely," says Lord Thonarr. "May your horses be swift and sure-footed. Goodbye, Inella my daughter."

Biting her lip, the lady waves at them. Then she takes the reins in both hands and kicks her horse in motion. Rogher gives his steed a nudge, steers it through the gate, and behind us I hear the clickety-clockety of her horse's hooves. Soon the noise grows more quiet, first into crunching sounds as we reach a stretch of gravelly path and finally into faint thumps.

It's too early and too dark to ride fast, but that's just as well. Galloping horses never fail to make people pay attention, whatever the time of the day, and attention is the last thing we need. So Rogher keeps his horse at a brisk walk and Lady Inella's horse must follow, reluctant to leave the familiar stable and yet not wanting to be left behind. In the corner of my eye I can see first its head, then the lady herself, until we are riding side by side.

I can only approve of her attire. Her cape and skirt are thick and ample – nothing flimsy or cheap-looking or too worn for her, no – but they don't look brand new. Luxury has been left behind, too: there is no velvet, no visible fur trimmings, no embroidery, and instead of a fashionable hat she wears a scarf wrapped around her head and shoulders. Her saddlebags are simple and not overly large, and even the plain, dark saddlecloth is devoid of any insignia. Rogher glances at her, too, and nods minutely to himself. I'm sure we're both thinking the same thing: she has really set her mind on this adventure. Nothing else explains how she's agreed to spending several days on horseback, in the woods, without a single maid and with so few accessories. At the moment Rogher is all business and such determination is bound to please him.

We don't stay on the road for long: there's a bend ahead, behind it the village. Rogher steers his horse over a low ditch beside the road and soon we are skirting the small forest to stay out of sight. It's even darker here because of the trees, and we give the horses free rein so that they can pick their footing. There's no hurrying them now, unless we want to have an accident already before the sun has risen on the first day of our trip.

The morning is breaking, the first rays of the sun cut the light mist into slices and make us all blink. The air is crisp and fresh to breathe, but it also carries sound well, and every snort our horses let out seems so loud that I wince. No one speaks, our first task is to get away from the manor and the village as soon as possible. Rogher spurs his horse just enough to make it stretch its stride still longer, and Lady Inella follows, not even trying to ride by our side as we're weaving our way between the trunks of trees.

Thus we ride on in complete silence, through the forest and towards the rise of the mountains where we hopefully will be able to find our way to our destination and yet stay invisible. Rogher is tense and alert, and I don't need to ask what is bothering him. He may have a marvelous sense of direction but he's not familiar with these lands. He'll know which way to push, but he's had no opportunity to get to know the obstacles that lie out of sight from the road – detours would only have made both the soldiers and any casual observers suspicious, and Lord Jhorell's reminders of the utmost importance of secrecy could not be overlooked. Of course I would gladly have done some scouting, but that would've been equally suspicious. Now we're on our own, and I can only hope that Rogher is feeling more confident than myself at this moment. Have we chewed off more than we can swallow?

Not that we really had any choice, of course.

I sigh quietly and wish that being on horseback didn't always muddle my ability to read the surroundings quite as badly as it does. As long as my feet are on the ground, my sense of direction and distance easily rivals Rogher's, but riding somehow puts my senses off kilter. At the moment I'm nothing more than an extra weight for his horse to carry, able to do nothing but hang on and think my own thoughts.

Sometimes being just a passenger is a blessing; right now it is anything but. Before the very first stop of the day I've already had time to make dozens of guesses as to how long we'll be spending on horseback, each a little gloomier than the previous, and imagine far too many situations in which Rogher might be tempted to take advantage of the forced closeness and try to worm his way into Lady Inella's skirts.

I suspect that she might not reject him, should things come to that, but that is not all that worries me. She may be an accomplished rider, but I'm willing to bet that she's rarely spent whole days on horseback, and now she's out of practice, too. Rogher and I are used to it, fatigue will not wear us down any time soon, but what about her? No matter how tough and determined, she might need more time than just nights to recover, and that means either shorter distances covered during the days or possibly even full days spent resting. It took us five days to ride from Noragayll to Tmer, and that was along well-trodden roads. How long will it take before we're back again?

With a sigh I resign myself to listening to the sounds around, and to composing a new song in my head. Such a pity that singing it aloud right now is out of the question, for it would definitely brighten the mood.