The moments stretched out, taut/and uncomfortable; the sun rose higher in the sky. There was little talk. One horse whickered loudly, while another stamped its hoof against the ground. One of the fishermen coughed. Hanna's dog Jip got into a friendly, but vocal, skirmish with another of the villager's dogs. Finally Brie, numb, said, "It appears our..."—she paused—"um, army is complete." They numbered twenty. "There may be more as we head north, but ... At any rate, it is not too late to change your mind."
There was an uneasy silence. Brie avoided looking anyone in the eye. The silence remained unbroken. "Very well then." She mounted Ciaran, looking to Lom or Jacan to take the lead.
"Lead us, Biri," came Hanna's voice. Brie thought she heard a muffled "Aye." She hesitated, but then awkwardly moved Ciaran forward, heading north along the creek. Hyslin and Beith stood together forlornly, watching them go.
Brie had not gone more than a hundred yards when she heard Lom's voice call out, "Hold!"
Brie turned to see a lone straggler riding up behind them. It was Sago.
He had found a pony somewhere—an odd-looking beast, tan with a black patch on its forehead and a short white tail that splayed out from the horse's broad hindquarters, almost like the tail feathers of ¡a seabird. Still, it was a solid, sturdy-looking animal, though Sago must have been no more burden than a feather resting atop the pony's saddle.
***
That night as they made camp Brie noticed Collun and Lom talking together amicably.
Before arriving in Ardara, Brie had told Collun of her friendship with Lom and even of dancing with him on the deck of the Storm Petrel. Collun had listened, saying nothing. But when she first introduced the two, Brie's stomach had been knotted tighter than one of Jacan's halyards. They shook hands and smiled genially, then someone called out to Lom and he left them. Brie had waited, tense.
"Seems a decent fellow," was all Collun said. He had started to walk away, then stopped, adding, "D'you think he'd be willing to teach me to dance as well? Talisen was always telling me I had two left feet, but since it looks as though you'll be leading the next Beltaine dances..." He had grinned at her and Brie grinned back, realizing again how little she knew of this new Collun.
At each village and farmhold the army came to, they told of the attack on Prince Durwydd's dun and of the enemy who gathered a war host in the north. And at each village they were greeted with a mixture of fear and disbelief. They fared best with the fishing villages, hard hit by the blight of sumog, but still their army remained modest. By the time they had reached the beginning of northern Dungal, they numbered no more than eighty.
It was a small, motley army, but Brie was humbled by them, astonished by their courage and their loyalty. In their turn, the army seemed to regard Brie with an affectionate sort of respect, even awe, that embarrassed her. They had taken to calling her "Bren," which meant "little queen" in Dungalan. Sometimes they added "huan," the Dungal word for sunlight, because of the times the sun reflected off her hair, a blur of gold at the head of the ragtag army. "Bren-huan," they would say, "you shall lead us to victory like our queen Fionna."
Brie demurred with a laugh. "The color of my hair is the only thing I have in common with your queen."
If Brie was the army's "little queen," Lom quickly became the one they turned to when a problem arose, such as when a harness needing mending or for advice on saddle sores or to grumble about empty stomachs. Though the army was not large, it still needed to be fed every day, and Lom was the expert on foraging for food and other supplies. /Foraging grew increasingly difficult as they journeyed farther north, where there were fewer villages, but Lom somehow managed. He also, along with Jacan, Hanna, and one of the fishermen, led the army in various training exercises and war games.
Brie usually rode at the head of the army, with Collun at her side. He had refused to let Brie tell the Dungalans that he was Wurme-killer. They had a quarrel about it, Brie arguing that it would do much for the army's morale and Collun adamantly refusing to go along with her wishes.
Collun often slipped to the rear to check on Sago. He and Hanna were using all their combined herb lore in an attempt to boost the sorcerer's failing health. Brie was impressed by Collun's ministrations to the sorcerer, and wondered if perhaps he did it partly because of a certain wizard of the trees whose death he yet felt the sting of.
And, indeed, Sago showed some small improvement. The Sea Dyak sorcerer had brought his amhantar. In it he carried a sliver of wood he said was from his boat, Gor-gwynt, something prickly he told Brie was a dead ghost anemone, a moon shell that he said he'd found on his last treasure hunt, and another small dead fish that looked familiar to Brie, though she could not recall its name. Sago took the moon shell out frequently, running his fingers over the whorled, gleaming surface. The Sea Dyak sorcerer had also brought along some rope and string, and he began fiddling around with the making of a small fishing net. As he rode, his fingers were constantly tying, knotting, and weaving. He was a comical sight, the Sea Dyak sorcerer, bringing up the rear of the army, sitting on his fat little pony, weaving nets and singing nonsense songs.
After several days they came to the town of Cerriw, which Brie remembered as the home place of Aelwyn, the wyll. Aelwyn was at the center of the village, waiting for them. She told Brie that after safely delivering her friend's healthy baby boy, she had made her way, without incident, through the Blue Stacks, reaching home in time for the harvest festival, Cynheafu. The Dungalan army received a warm welcome in Aelwyn's village. Not only were they supplied with fresh provisions, but also a cohort of recruits, twenty strong, including Aelwyn herself.
Brie thanked the wyll, who replied with a shrug, "A favor for a favor." Brie noticed Aelwyn's eyes stray to Collun as he helped a villager load provisions into his saddlebags, and the corners of the wyll's mouth went up, cadike.
Its ranks having swelled to more than a hundred, the army rode north.
When Collun was at the back of the group with Sago and Hanna (and frequently, Brie noticed, Aelwyn as well), Brie usually found herself riding with Maire, the tall girl with the stubborn chin. She was almost the same age as Brie and idolized her, which embarrassed Brie. Maire had snuck off to join the army to get away from an over strict father, who believed a girl's place was in the home. "He thinks we are good for nothing more than cooking and cleaning and minding children," Maire said, outraged. "I have long begged him to give me a chance on the fishing boat, but he has always refused. Each time I saw you go out on Jacan's boat, I envied you so," the girl confided.
Brie told Maire that her own father had been the opposite, demanding as much from her, or more, as from the boy he wished he had had.
Maire was silent, compassion in her eyes. "Then," she said with a sudden smile, "let us be to each other what our fathers were not. When we return to Ardara I will loan you all my cooking pots."
"Thank you just the same," Brie laughed, "but, if Jacan is willing, you shall have my place on the Storm Petrel."
"Agreed!" Maire replied with enthusiasm.
Brie looked up at the night sky, instinctively seeking the Bootes, seven stars making up a wheel of light. The farther north they went, the clearer and brighter was the wheel. They had left Ardara half a moon cycle ago and were camped by the Burren—a pair of graceful stone bridges beneath which the Tyfed River ran.
Hanna estimated they were a day and a half from Sedd Wydyr, so Brie formed a scouting party, resolving to lead it herself. Hanna and Collun would go with her, as well as Maire and her brother, Clun. Aelwyn, too, had volunteered, with a sideways glance at Collun. Lom would be in charge of the army, and Brie told him that if her party did not return in three days to move ahead without them.