Hamnet Thyssen wasn't bad at tending to himself in winter weather. He freely admitted the Bizogots and Ulric Skakki were better. When they ran up tents, no cold air got inside. They built snow barriers north of the tents to blunt the force of the Breath of God. They made the most of fur blankets and small braziers.
Audun Gilli seemed much more lackadaisical. Count Hamnet wondered if he should scold the wizard or worry about him. Liv shook her head when he raised the question. "He uses spells to keep himself snug," she said. "I wouldn't do that. It would make me tired, and I have enough things making me tired already. Easier just to do things right the first time. But if you have the spells, you can use them if you choose."
"All right," Hamnet said. "I won't bother him about it, then. I didn't want to wake up one morning and find we had an icicle instead of a wizard, that's all."
"He won't freeze," Liv assured him. "Not unless someone overpowers all his wards, and who would want to do anything like that?"
"The Rulers?" Hamnet said.
Liv's breath caught. She hadn't looked for an answer to her question. "How could they reach him here, inside the Empire?" she asked. "How could they even know he's coming north again?"
"I'm no wizard—I can't tell you that," Hamnet Thyssen said. "But we saw they know more of magic than we do. Just because we can't imagine how they would do something doesn't mean they can't do it. Or am I wrong?"
Plainly, Liv wanted to tell him he was. As plainly, she couldn't. Her voice troubled, she said, "Maybe you should speak of this with him tomorrow. I don't know if you're right or wrong. Either way, though, Audun should think about it."
"I'll do that." Hamnet blew out the candle that lit their tent. As darkness descended, he added, "Tomorrow."
He almost forgot about it the next day. Audun Gilli didn't draw attention to himself. He seemed to do everything he could not to draw attention to himself. Eventually, Hamnet did remember. The wizard heard him out; Audun was seldom rude. "Well, there's a cheery notion," he said when Hamnet finished.
"What can you do about it? Can you do anything?" the Raumsdalian noble asked.
"I don't know. I don't know how much I have to worry about it, either," Audun said. "Maybe I'll tighten up my wards, just in case. Maybe your lady friend ought to do the same thing, too."
Hamnet grunted. He hadn't thought about that. But if the Rulers could know Audun was on the move, they could know the same thing about Liv. "I'll tell her," Hamnet promised.
"Me?" Liv said when he did.
"Why not? Who here besides Audun knows as much about their magic as you do?" Count Hamnet said. "If they can reach this far, doesn't that give them a reason to go after you? Do you want to take the chance that they can't?"
He admired the way she thought it over and then shook her head. She really did think things through; she didn't start with her mind closed, the way so many people did. "No, I don't want to take that chance," she said. "If they marked Audun, they might have noticed me, too."
"If they didn't notice you, they were blind," Hamnet Thyssen said.
That flustered Liv much more than the idea of sorcerous attack from the Rulers did. "You!" She wagged her hand at him; it would have been an angry finger if she weren't wearing mittens. "Why do you say such things?"
"Because they're true?"
She ignored him. He smiled, which only seemed to annoy her more. He wasn't a great one for fancy speeches and praise of women's beauty. But any praise at all seemed more than Liv was used to.
They came to a serai not long before the sun went down. There would be a few more in the towns in the north woods. After that, the travelers would have to arrange their own shelter or pay the price for failure. A roaring fire and greasy roast mutton suited Hamnet fine after a long day on the road.
He ate more mutton for breakfast, and washed it down with beer mulled with a hot poker. "Not fancy, but it sticks to the ribs," Ulric Skakki said, and Hamnet nodded.
The travelers were about to go out to the horses when a newcomer walked into the serai. Hamnet and Ulric looked at each other. Had the stranger traveled through the frigid night to get here? By the way he yawned and rubbed at his red-tracked eyes, he probably had. "Do I see Count Hamnet Thyssen here?" he asked.
Hamnet got to his feet. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "You see me," he said. "Why do you care?"
"I am an imperial courier." The newcomer handed him a rolled parchment held closed by a ribbon and by the imperial seal stamped into golden wax. "This is an order recalling you to Nidaros at once."
"Give it to me." Hamnet broke the seal and read the order. It was exactly what the courier said it was. He recognized Sigvat's signature; the document was genuine. Nodding to the man, he said, "All right—I have it. Thank you."
"You will accompany me back down to the capital, then?"
"No."
The courier's jaw dropped. "But.. . But. .." He tried again. "You are ordered to return. Ordered. By the Emperor. Sigvat II." He added the name as if Count Hamnet might have forgot who ruled Raumsdalia.
"No," Hamnet said again. "He's welcome to exile me. Why not? I'm leaving the Empire anyhow. And I am leaving. I'm not going back to Nidaros. If he wants to confiscate my castle down in the southeast, he can do that, too. I'm in no position to stop him, God knows. I hope he'll treat my retainers well. I haven't seen them since last spring, and they have nothing to do with this."
"But. .. you're disobeying a direct imperial command." The courier didn't seem to think such a thing was possible, or even imaginable.
"I am, all right." Count Hamnet nodded, as if to encourage him. "You catch on fast."
"You can't do that." The young Raumsdalian sounded absolutely certain.
"Watch me," Hamnet Thyssen said calmly. Being clear in his own mind about what he aimed to do brought a wonderful sense of freedom. He was his own man, not Sigvat s man or even the Empire's man. He would do what he chose, and hard luck to anyone who didn't like it.
"What am I supposed to do?" the courier bleated.
"Tell the Emperor you delivered his order. Tell him I told you no. Here, wait." He borrowed a quill and ink from the serai-keeper, who watched the drama with wide eyes. I have read this order. I decline to obey it. Do not blame the messenger—it is not his fault, Hamnet wrote, and signed his name in a fine round hand. He gave the parchment back to the courier. "There you go. It shouldn't have anything to do with you. This is between his Majesty and me."
"This won't help," the courier predicted, voice full of gloom.
"Would you like the wizard here and me to witness whatever Count Hamnet wrote?" Ulric Skakki asked.
Even more gloomily, the courier shook his head. "I could have God witness it, and it wouldn't do me any good."
If Sigvat was in one of those moods, the man might be right. "Tell me something," Hamnet said. "Did Earl Eyvind Torfinn’s wife have anything to do with getting this order sent?" The courier looked blank. Hamnet added, "Her name is Gudrid."
"Oh. Her. I know who you mean. The one who's like that with the Emperor." The courier twisted two fingers together. But then he shrugged. "I don't know anything about it. A clerk gave me the order and told me what was in it in case it got wet or something, that's all."