So Inos sat in silent fear and misery, while making polite conversation about the scenery.
Andor reappeared at the carriage door. “I am afraid you will have to disembark, ladies. Another broken axle.”
He handed Aunt Kade down, then Inos. The trail was a narrow wreckage of mud, roots, and rocks, curving off out of sight in both directions around a hillside. Rain dribbled down from a canopy of heavy branches that shut off all but a few glimpses of low gray sky, while enclosing walls of ferns and bracken pressed in tightly on both sides. This was the third axle to snap in the last two days. It meant a long delay.
Inos looked around hopefully for somewhere dry to sit, pulling up the hood of her traveling cloak.
“What enormous trees!” Aunt Kade exclaimed. “They cannot be sequoias, though?”
“Hemlocks, I think,” Andor said. “Or perhaps cedars. You! Trooper! Hand me down that chest.”
The shadows were very deep and menacing. Inos felt uneasy, shut in by this dark primeval jungle. Even the air was full of damp woodsy scent, as if it never went anywhere and was a special local air. The small area of road that she could see was full of soldiers dismounting or jingling around, horses stamping, splashing, fretting, and tugging their reins, men grumbling and discussing the problem in rough, angry tones. From farther up the hill came rougher shouts yet, as the advance guard was informed of the holdup. Equally invisible downhill, the rear was clattering into silence, also.
The dense woods concealed the mountains completely. Inos had not seen a single large hill, only trees and a steeply climbing, winding road. She took Aunt Kade’s hand, and the two of them stepped carefully over mud and puddles to the verge, seeking shelter and getting out of the men’s way. Andor followed, carrying a chest to serve as a bench. Halfhearted smears of snow flanked the trail, dirty and woebegone in the dingy gloom.
Proconsul Yggingi came cantering back down from the front to see what the delay was. He dismounted with a splash and handed his reins to a legionary, then bellowed for silence and started shooting orders. Inos was pleased to see that he looked very uncomfortable in his uniform, as if the rain were running off his helmet and down his neck. Andor was wearing a big floppy suede hat at a rakish angle, handsome and debonair as ever.
Aunt Kade shivered slightly.
“I can fetch a rug, Highness?” he asked helpfully.
“No, no!” Kade said. “Silly of me. I was looking at these dark woods and thinking of goblins.”
He chuckled reassuringly. “Rugs will not protect you from goblins! But don’t worry—there are none this side of the pass. Correct, Proconsul?”
Yggingi was clearly furious at this latest delay. “None this side of Pondague. And I have been cleaning them out beyond, also.”
“Are they so dangerous, then?” Inos asked, thinking that a herd of hippogryffs could sneak up on her through that deep darkness.
“Not really. Just vermin.”
Andor said quietly, “Goblins are actually a very peaceful people.”
“Peaceful?” Yggingi echoed. “They are monsters.”
“But not warlike.”
“No, not warlike! They have other means of disposing of their surplus men.” An expression of distaste appeared on his flat, square face.
“Whatever do you mean, Excellency?” Inos asked, surprised that anything could disgust so coarse a man as Yggingi.
He hesitated and then said, “Many races weed out their young men. Most do it by warfare. Goblins use nastier methods, but the principle is the same, I suppose.”
She had never thought of warfare in that horrible way. “Why? To leave more women for the others?”
“Inos!” Kade protested.
“Sometimes that is the motive,” Andor said. “Or extra land, or just to keep the place peaceful. We are not making very good time, I fear, Proconsul.”
Yggingi growled an agreement. “We shall probably not see the top of the pass by nightfall. There is a guardhouse there, but now you will probably have to bivouac, ma’am.”
“Perhaps my niece and I should ride, then?” Kade suggested calmly.
The men looked down at her in astonishment. “Could—would you?” Yggingi asked.
“I should love to! I find that carriage very bumpy. How about you, Inos, dear?”
“Of course!” Inos agreed, amused at the expression on Yggingi’s face, and Andor’s. They did not know of Aunt Kade’s unlimited ability to astonish.
Kade rose, determined. “Then we shall ride. Our habits are in that green box, Proconsul. If you would be so kind as to have it lifted down, we can change in the carriage.”
Yggingi actually smiled—a gruesome sight. “And we can leave this wreck where it is. We should reach Pondague tomorrow, and after that you can travel by sled.”
Aunt Kade beamed up at him innocently. “Oh, I think we can ride in the forest if we have to. I am a little out of practice, I admit, but I used to be a very keen horsewoman.”
It would do her figure no harm, Inos thought, and a horse could be no more tiring than that bone-shaking carriage.
Yggingi, about to speak, stopped suddenly and peered into the trees. “What was that?”
Andor frowned. “I thought I heard something, too.”
Inos had heard nothing, but her skin tingled—all the horses had pricked their ears in that way, also. The proconsul bellowed for silence in the ranks. The shout ran out along the line in both directions, and then there was only a steady dripping, and restless splashings of hooves.
“There it is again,” Yggingi said, and this time Inos had heard something, also.
“Goblins?” she asked nervously.
“They don’t shout. They keep quiet and run. If I’d thought there was the slightest chance of goblin sport, I’d have brought the dogs.”
A distant voice. “Princess Inosolan!”
Inos jumped. Her heart continued jumping.
Faint though it was, they had all heard it this time—Inos, her aunt, Andor, Yggingi, and the dozens of mud-splattered legionaries.
“It’s a long way off!” Andor’s face had gone very stern. He pushed back his cloak to free his sword hilt. Yggingi clicked his sword up and down in its scabbard, once, then again. “Maybe not so far. The trees deaden sound.”
“Princess Inosolan!” No mistake this time…
They were all staring at the woods now. Aunt Kade stepped close to Inos and gripped her wrist, as if fearing she might run off into the forest to investigate. Nothing was less likely. Inos shivered. Yggingi’s sword hissed as he drew.
“You had better go back to the coach, ladies!” He shouted an order and swords flashed out, while other men pulled bowstrings from waterproof pouches. Work on the axle had stopped.
“No, wait!” Inos said as her aunt began to move. That voice?
“Princess Inosolan!” Closer yet.
Who? There was something familiar about that voice. “Yes?” she shouted.
“Inos!” her aunt cried.
And the voice replied: “It’s Rap!”
Rap? Rap who? Rap?
“No!” It couldn’t possibly be.
“Back in the carriage!” Andor shouted, and he also drew his sword. “It must be some sort of demon, I think. You agree, Proconsul?”
Yggingi’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “I never met any forest demons. Old wives' tales!” He cupped his hands to shout. “Come out and show yourself!”
“Tell your men to lower their bows!” The voice was much closer, although there was nothing in sight. “I am alone and unarmed.”