Paladin of Souls - Lois McMaster Bujold [69]
He excused himself early. Ista could see the glow from the candles in his tent as he scribbled at whatever campaign desk his servants carried along on such forays, receiving rolls of the dead and wounded and captured, dispatching orders and reports and letters to be carried away in the dark by swift riders. She saw one of the captured Jokonan tally officers marched in for a long interview. When she retired to her purloined tent again, now cleared of its owner’s gear and strewn with scented herbs, Arhys’s working lights still shone through his tent walls, like a lantern in the long night.
THEIR DEPARTURE WAS DELAYED IN THE MORNING BY MATTERS OF Arhys’s troop and delegations from the town where he had sent the Jokonan prisoners, which she could see annoyed him, but at last the tents were folded. A fresh horse of the march’s company was presented to her, a pretty white gelding, clad in her own saddle and trappings. She had noted the young soldier who brought it to her riding it about the meadow earlier, presumably to take its edge off and be certain it was suitable for a lady to ride. A tired, aging lady. She would have preferred a staircase to board it, but made do with the soldier’s nervous leg up.
“I hope he will do for you, Royina,” said the young man, ducking his head. “I picked him out myself. We miss our master of horse, since he has fallen ill—my lord tries to do two men’s tasks. But all will be easier when we return to Porifors.”
“I’m sure it will.”
It was a much-expanded company that clambered out of the river valley and across the dry countryside. Forty horsemen in the gray tabards of Porifors rode ahead, mail-clad and armed, before Ista and Ferda’s reduced troop. A long train of baggage mules and servants followed after, then another twenty men for rear guard. They struck a track, then turned north upon a greater road. Scouts came and went, ahead and along the fringes, to exchange brief but apparently reassuring reports with Arhys’s alert officers.
They settled down to a steady plod through the warm morning. At length, Arhys won free of the plucking demands of his command long enough to drop back and ride by her side.
He saluted her with good cheer, now that he had his little army headed in the preferred direction. “Royina. I trust you slept well, and that this last ride is bearable?”
“Yes, I’ll do. Though I believe I would mutiny at a trot.”
He chuckled. “None shall ask it of you, then. We’ll rest a space at noon, and come to Porifors in time for a rather better dinner than I could offer you last night.”
“Then we shall dine very well indeed. I look forward to it.” The courtesies fell automatically from her lips. But by the tension in his smile, he wanted more than an exchange of pleasantries.
“I feel I must apologize for not recognizing you yesterday,” he continued. “The courier from Tolnoxo who brought warning of the column told us a wild tale that you were among the taken, but all his reports were very garbled. Yet when I saw the Jokonan officers hustling a woman away, I thought they might be true after all. Then your alias confused me anew.”
“You owe me no apology. I was overcautious, as it proved.”
“Not at all. I . . . never thought to meet you. In the flesh.”
“I must say, I am quite glad you did. Or I should have woken up someplace unpleasant in Jokona this morning.”
He smiled briefly and glanced across at Ferda, riding on Ista’s other side as a contented audience to all this noble speech. Curiosity wrestled with dread in Ista’s stomach, and won. She took the hint and waved Ferda out of earshot. “My good dedicat, leave us a little.” With a disappointed look, he tightened his reins and dropped behind. She and Arhys were left riding together side by side, pearl-white horse and charcoal-gray, an elegant picture and as nice a balance between private and proper as could likely be obtained. She felt a pang of loneliness for Liss, and wondered where the girl was now. Carrying on competently, no doubt.
Arhys regarded her through