Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [220]
“But if they do break through—and this scathefire, whatever it is, can’t be quenched—”
“And where is the Lady?” asked another; several nodded.
Kieri wished he knew the answer to that; she had promised the land would not burn, but where was she?
Harway, on the Tsaian-Lyonyan border
A patrol of Girdish yeomen challenged the party from Verrakai Steading before they reached Thornhedge Grange. “There’s trouble in Lyonya,” a yeoman said. “It’s them Pargunese again. They’re not sneaking through our fields this time!”
“I’m a Lyonyan ranger,” Arian said, showing her blackwood bow. “I had taken word to Verrakai—the new duke—about some Verrakaien the rangers killed awhile back, and now I must get back. What’s the best way?”
“The border crossing on the road,” the man said. “Anywhere else you’re liable to be killed as a spy.”
“I need to give Duke Verrakai’s message to the Marshal and the Royal Guard,” Gwenno said. “There’s a message to send to the king—”
“He’ll have had word,” the man said. “Commander already sent a courier. But that won’t be the only one, I’ll be bound.”
Harway buzzed like a kicked beehive when they reached it. They passed patrols in the streets as Gwenno led the way; the grange doors were open, and the Marshal stood in the light, giving orders to groups of yeomen. Gwenno paused and gave him Dorrin’s message, then rode on through the town. Torches edged the riverside.
“I must go on,” Arian said, when Gwenno turned up a side street toward the inn Dorrin had specified.
“Tonight? But shouldn’t you rest?”
“I can’t rest now,” Arian said. “The taig would wake me; I need to be in Lyonya, with rangers or—or wherever I’m told to go.”
“We’ll come with you to the border, then,” Gwenno said, and signaled her troop.
Arian had no idea what the border crossing was usually like, but this night it was lit with torches, with troops of both kingdoms alert and determined to stop any spies. On the Tsaian side, only Gwenno’s insistence that Arian had been the guest of Duke Verrakai—that Gwenno knew her personally—got her through to the Lyonyans. There, the guards recognized her part-elven blood and the blackwood bow.
“Yes, yes, you’re one of ours, but why were you in Tsaia?”
“Ranger business,” Arian said. It had been, in a way.
“But you’re a King’s Squire, aren’t you? We have a list—”
“That, too, but this wasn’t Squire business. Where should I go, do you think?”
“Riverwash. They have a regular courier service from Chaya, and someone there will know where you’re most needed. But watch out for Pargunese on the river road.”
“Can you spare a change of horse? I’ve ridden this one all day.”
“Of course. Take your pick.” He waved at the picket line in the wind shadow of a shed.
Arian moved her gear to a sturdy dark bay with no white markings to show at night, gave her horse a quick rubdown, and put him in the shed. Then she mounted and rode away eastward, letting the taig flow through her. Despite the taig’s disturbance, it was a relief to have that connection back.
A chill wind blew from the north, stronger than it had been as they rode toward Harway. This close to the disturbance, she could easily tell what it was. Men setting fires in the dry leaves … men sneaking through the woods. She was a few sandglasses’ ride from Riverwash.
She met one patrol at a little less than half the distance, rangers who knew her name from old times. All they asked was of Tsaia: did the Tsaian king know, would Tsaia come to their aid? Arian told them what little she knew and rode on.
Suddenly light bloomed in the sky ahead and riverward, first a yellow glow and then white. The north wind strengthened, as if in response. Arian’s skin drew up; the taig’s reaction was instant and violent—pain, terror, anger, all mixed. She legged her horse into a gallop and very soon heard the roar of flames that towered into the night sky. This was not ordinary fire … terrified deer ran toward her along the road; her horse swerved to avoid them.
She felt first warmth, then heat, and reined in as the road angled north to Riverwash: