“Thayet,” she said aloud, “you know where we’re going. We’re on—a quest, I suppose. When I find what I’m after, I’ll return home. If Liam and Buri don’t object, why don’t you ride with us?”
“Mind? Gods, no! Thayet’s a better cook than you are,” said Liam.
“The Roof of the World,” Thayet whispered. Her face brightened.
“Leave Sarain?” Buri grinned. “Just show me the way!”
A Daughter shook her awake. Glancing at the window, Alanna saw it was just before dawn—time for Liam’s teaching. She directed a questioning look at the Dragon, but he only shrugged and tossed Alanna her clothes. They dressed and followed the priestess out into the corridor.
The black-robed Daughter awaited them with Buri, Thayet, and Coram. “No time to waste,” she told them quietly. “Zhir Rayong, who is sworn to zhir Anduo, knows Thayet’s here, and he’s on his way. My people can delay him for three hours, but you must go if you want to escape.”
Alanna looked at her friends, thinking fast. “We can’t go as we are. When it gets out that we’re gone, everyone will look for a group of nobles, or the Dragon and his friends. I can ride as a boy.” She grinned, looking at the shirt and breeches she already wore. “Goddess knows I’ve had practice.”
“We’ll pass as mercenaries,” Liam added. Coram nodded. They all gazed at Thayet, whose looks could not have been more distinctive if she had tried.
“I can disguise her Highness,” the Hag-Daughter said. “My women will make your packs seem less well cared for. What of the horses?”
They conferred by glance, and Alanna shook her head. “We don’t have time to dye their coats. If it’s necessary, I’ll put an illusion on them and my cat till danger’s past.” She looked apologetically toward Liam, who shrugged.
“Let’s start,” the Dragon said. “The sooner we’re gone, the safer everyone will be.”
Thayet and the Daughter disappeared while the others changed into their most disreputable clothes. Novices saddled the horses, rubbing dirt into their coats, manes, and tack, then covering the saddlebags in patched canvas. Alanna’s lance and shield were put on Liam’s Drifter, since commoner youths did not carry them.
When Alanna herself entered the courtyard, she barely recognized her own Moonlight in the duncolored mare that awaited her. Using rawhide strips, the knight wrapped Lightning’s gem-studded hilt until only the battered crystal on the pommel showed. Buri, dressed as Alanna was in a boy’s shirt, breeches, and jacket, arrived next. She glared at Bother, who laid back his ears at the sight of her, and went to make friends with the pony she’d named Sure-Foot.
Thayet was transformed into a sallow-skinned female. Her hair was dull, touched with gray, and a purple birthmark spread over her nose and down her left cheek. She was swathed in a shapeless brown dress. The whole effect was so painfully ugly that no one would look at her for long.
“We provisioned you,” one of the novices said, looking at Thayet with tears in her eyes. The packhorse, and your bags. Princess, the Goddess smile on you, wherever you go!”
Alanna gripped the Hag-Daughter’s arm. “If you come west—”
She smiled. “Farewell, Lioness.”
They galloped out of the convent gates, riding hard. Distance, rather than conserving themselves and the horses, was the important thing for this part of their journey. For once Faithful kept silent about the joggling, hooking his claws into his cup and holding on. Their route from the convent led past the city wall rather than into the city. The road was deserted by Rachia’s early morning visitors, so no one would witness their flight. Either the gods smiled or the Hag-Daughter had weather-workers at her command: Fog enveloped them, muffling the noise they made and sheltering them from sight.
The ride to the border took three days, with Liam setting a pace all of them could handle. Alanna relinquished command of their expedition to him: Not only was he familiar with eastern Sarain and the Roof of the World, but he wanted to lead.
The countryside was deserted. The normal inhabitants—trappers, mountain men, K’miri tribesmen, a few Doi tribesmen from the Roof—were not sociable at the best of times, and now they had fled the occasional patrols of southern armies. Alanna paid little attention to the deserted land. She worried about Thayet. She worried about herself. These days her old goals appeared silly—a child’s dream, not an adult’s. But what was she going to do with her life—after she found the Jewel—if she found it? What did acclaim matter if you had nowhere to go, nothing to do?
Three days after setting out from Rachia, they came to the M’kon River that formed the Saren border. On its eastern bank was Fortess Wei, a Saren outpost—there was no single government east of the river. Beyond Wei the ground formed hills and small valleys. Above those hills loomed a huge, purple band that hung too steadily to be clouds. Alanna squinted at it, curious.
Thayet brought her mare up beside Moonlight, observing the direction of Alanna’s stare. “The Roof of the World,” she said quietly.
4
THE ROOF OF THE WORLD
ONCE THEY LEFT THE BORDER, THE ROAD BEGAN TO climb. The nights were cold, although it was May; Alanna was glad for Liam’s warmth in their bedroll. Thayet was the first to don a fur-lined cloak, but the others soon followed suit.
Thayet and Buri joined the Dragon’s morning exercises, learning Shang hand-to-hand combat. Alanna was surprised at how well she herself did. Evidently the years of training for knighthood helped her now. She could feel the difference in her body when they practiced, as her muscles took her smoothly from kick to blow and back. Filled with the optimism that comes from being physically fit, she mentally dared the Roof to do its worst.
The farther Thayet got from home, the more relaxed she was. She spoke about her childhood so frankly that Alanna thanked Coram for his affectionate, if gruff, raising of her and Thom. Thayet was the daughter of a ruler who wanted a son; only Kalasin made her feel loved. It was Kalasin who taught Thayet K’miri ways, Kalasin and Buri’s family.
“I could never be as good a queen as my mother,” Thayet said. She grinned. “Not that it makes a difference now. I won’t be a queen at all.”
“Are you sorry?” Alanna wanted to know. She had been terribly frightened when Jon asked her to be his wife, knowing someday she would have to be his queen.
“A little,” Thayet admitted. “I’d like to change things. In Sarain, for instance, women have no rights—just those our husbands or fathers grant us. Estates and fortunes are held by men. Women can’t inherit.”
“That’s barbaric!” protested Alanna. “At home women inherit. Not titles, but they have lands. I’m Myles’s heir by law—it isn’t common, but it happens.”
“Tortall sounds wonderful,” sighed Thayet.
“You’ll find out when you get there,” the knight promised. To herself she added, We’ll all find out a thing or two when we get there, especially Jon. She grinned in spite of herself.
As the winter snows began to melt, traffic picked up. The roads were thick with miners, trappers, and merchant caravans. Alanna’s company passed herdsmen driving flocks to the markets in the south. Farmers waved as they went by, their wagons filled with cheeses, brightly woven cloth, and chickens. Only the Doi tribesmen remained aloof. They were a people like the K’mir, though less fierce than their western cousins. They were expert at survival in the Roof; the most experienced guides were Doi, and the best furs came from their hidden villages.