Paladin of Souls - Lois McMaster Bujold [89]
Pejar said eagerly, as the horse shoved at him getting its nose in the water, “We were sure you must have warned that crossroads village, but where you went after that, we could not guess.”
“My good courier mount was done in by the time I reached there, but my tabard and chancellery baton persuaded them to lend me another. They had no soldiers fit to fight the Jokonans, so I left them to save themselves and rode east as fast as I could whip the poor blowing plow horse. Did the villagers escape harm?”
“They were all fled by the time we got there, close to sunset,” said Pejar.
“Ah, good. Well, right after that same sunset I reached a courier station on the main road to Maradi, and once I’d convinced them I wasn’t raving, they got the hunt up. Or so I thought. I slept there, and rode in to Maradi the next morning at a saner pace only to find the provincar of Tolnoxo just then leading his cavalry out the gates in pursuit. As fast as the Jokonans were moving, I greatly feared he was already too late.”
“It did prove so,” agreed Ista. “But a courier reached Castle Porifors in time for Lord Arhys to set an ambush along the line of the Jokonan retreat.”
“Yes, that must have been one of the fellows who rode directly from my courier station, five gods rain blessings on their wits. One of them said he was native to this region. I’d hoped he might know what he was about.”
“Did you hear anything of Foix and Learned dy Cabon?” asked Ista urgently. “We never saw them again after we hid them in that culvert.”
Liss shook her head, frowning. “I told of them at the courier station, and I warned Lord dy Tolnoxo’s lieutenants, when we passed, to be on watch for them both. I was not sure then if they’d been taken by the Jokonans, as you were, or if they had got away, or would follow the road forward or back or strike into the scrub, or what. So I went to the temple at Maradi, and found a senior divine of Learned dy Cabon’s order, and told her of all our troubles, and that our divine was likely out on the road and much in need of help. And she undertook to send some dedicats to seek them.”
“That was well thought of,” Ista said, her voice warm with approval.
Liss smiled gratefully. “It seemed little enough. I waited a day at the chancellery’s office in Maradi, but no word came back from Lord dy Tolnoxo’s column. So I bethought me of a faster route south and volunteered to ride courier to Oby. I reckoned, since it was the greater fortress, you would most likely be rescued by its soldiers and brought there. Then I flew—I don’t think any courier has ridden that road faster than I did, that day.” She shoved a strand of wet hair out of her sunburned face, raking it back with her fingers. “All were still in suspense when I arrived at the fortress that night. But my labors were repaid next morning, when the letter came there from the march of Porifors that you were all safely rescued. Oby’s lord and men had gone out on patrol for the Jokonans, too, but they came riding back that afternoon.”
“My father is the march of Oby,” observed Cattilara, an eager tinge leaking into her voice. “Did you see him?”
Liss made her unique half bow, half curtsey again. “He is in good health, my lady. I begged the boon from him of riding courier to Porifors, so I might most speedily rejoin the royina.” She held up her pouch. “He saw me off at dawn this morning. I received this from his own hands. There may be something in here for you—ah.” Her eye brightened at the approach of Porifors’s castle warder, an aging, landless lordling who reminded Ista much of Ser dy Ferrej, except for being stringy instead of stout. The groom Goram followed in his wake. The warder took the pouch in charge, to Liss’s obvious relief, and hastened away with