Kethry had augmented the protection of his traveling cloak with another spell she had not been able to cast until she reached Adept level. Jadrek would ride warm now no matter what the weather.
Tarma had turned down Kethry's offer to do the same for her; she wanted no spells on her that might betray her to a magic-sniffing mage if she needed to go scouting. But Roald had managed to round up enough cold-weather gear for all of them to keep them protected even without spellcasting. They were far better prepared this time for their journey as they rode away from the lodge on a clear, sparkling dawn just before Midwinter.
They felt -- and to some extent, acted -- like adolescents on holiday. If the weather turned sour, they simply put up their little tent, Kethry cast a jesto-vath on it, and they whiled away the time talking. When the weather was fair, while they never completely dropped vigilance, they tended to rely mostly on Warrl's senses while they enjoyed the view and the company. Beneath their ease was the knowledge that this "holiday" would be coming to an end once they broke out of the Comb, and there was a definite edge of "cherish the moment while you have it" to their cheer.
An ice storm had descended on them, but you'd never have known it inside their little tent. Outside the wind howled -- inside it was as warm as spring sunshine. This was a far cry from the misery of their earlier journey on this same path.
Jadrek was still not capable of sitting cross-legged on the tent floor the way the two women were doing, but they'd given him more than enough room to stretch out, and the bedrolls and packs to use as cushioning and props, and he was reasonably comfortable.
Better than I've been in ages, he thought wonderingly. Better than -- than since I took that fever as a child, and started having trouble with my poor bones afterward. That's been twenty, almost thirty years...
He watched his quest companions through slitted, sleepy eyes, marveling how close he had come to them in the space of a few short weeks. Tarma -- the strong arm, so utterly without a conscience when it comes to certain choices. Brave, Lady bless, braver than anyone I could have imagined. As honor-bound as anyone I know. The outside, so cold -- the inside, so warm, so caring. I'm not surprised, really, that once she and Roald got the measure of each other, they hit it off so well that they began calling each other "Darksib" and "Brightsib." There's a great deal about her that is like the Heralds I've known.
The kyree at Tarma's back sighed, and flicked his tail.
Warrl -- if for no other reason than to have come to know something about his kind, I'd treasure this quest. If all kyree are like him, I don't wonder that they have little to do with humankind. There aren't many around like Tarma, and I can't imagine Warrl mind-mating to anyone that didn't have her sense of honor and her profound compassion.
Kethry was unbraidmg and combing out her amber hair; it caught the light of the jesto-vath on the tent walls and glowed with the warmth of a young sun. Jadrek felt his heart squeeze. Keth, Kethry, Kethryveris -- lady, lady, how is it you make me feel like a stripling again? And I have no hope, no right to feel this way about you. When this mad scheme of ours is over, some stalwart young Warrior will come, and your eyes and heart will kindle, and he'll carry you off. And I'll never see you again. Why should you find a mind attractive enough to put up with a crippled, aging body? I'm half again your age -- why is it that when we're talking you make me feel no age at all? Or every age? How is it that you challenge my mind as well as my heart? How did you make me come alive again?
He stifled a sigh. Enjoy it while it lasts, old man, he told himself, trying not to be too bitter about it. The end is coming all too soon.
As it happened, the end came sooner than they had anticipated.
Kethry frowned, and broke off her teasing in mid-sentence.
"Keth?" Tarma asked, giving Ironheart the signal to slow.
"There's -- oh Windborn! I thought I'd thrown that bastard off!" Kethry looked angry -- and frightened. A gust of wind pulled her hood off and she didn't even bother to replace it.
"The mage," Tarma guessed, as Jadrek brought his horse up alongside theirs.
"The mage. He's better than I thought. He's waiting for us, right where the path breaks out of the hills."
"Ambush?"
Kethry frowned again, and closed her eyes, searching the site with mage-senses. "No," she said fi-nally. "No, I don't think so. He's just -- waiting. In the open. And he's got all his defenses up. He's challenging me."
Tarma swore. "And no way past him, as he probably damn well knows."
Kethry looked at her soberly, reining in Hellsbane.
"She'enedra, you aren't going to like this -- "
"Probably not; what if we charge him? You mages seem to have a problem with physical opposition to magical defenses."
"On that narrow path? He could take us all. And in no way are we going to be able to sneak past him, not with Jadrek. I'm going to have to challenge him to a duel arcane."
"What?"
"He's an Adept, I can tell that from here. If I issue Adept's challenge he'll have to answer it, or lose his status."
"And you've been Adept how long? He'll eat you for lunch!"
"Better he eats me alone than all of us. We can't just think of ourselves now, Stefan is depending on us. If -- Tarma, he won't take me without a fight, and if I go down, it won't be alone. You can find another mage to disguise you. Once we get into Rethwellan, I become the superfluous member of the party."
"You're not going down!" Tarma choked, as Jadrek tightened his mouth into a thin line.
"I don't plan on it," Kethry said wryly. "I'm just telling you what to do if it happens. Contract, my love."
Tarma's face went cold and expressionless; her heart stopped. "This is professional, right?" They lived by the mercenary code and would die by it, probably -- and by that code, you didn't argue with the terms or the contract once you'd agreed to it.
Kethry nodded. "This is the job we've contracted for. We're not being paid in money -- "
"But we've got to do our jobs." Tarma nodded. "You win. I stopped trying to keep you wrapped in wool a long time ago; I'm not going to start up again. Let's do it." And she kicked Ironheart into a canter, with Kethry, Warrl and Jadrek following behind.
I've got to do this, Kethry thought, countering her fear with determination. If I don't, he'll kill them. I might escape, but I could never shield all four of us, not even at Adept level. I haven't tapped into enough of the shielding spells to know how, yet. But he doesn't know I'm Adept, and there aren't that many White Winds mages around. I might well be able to surprise him with a trick or two.
She kicked Hellsbane and sent her galloping past Tarma, up the slope of the barren hill before them, knowing that she would have to reach the waiting magician first and issue her challenge before he caught sight of the others. Otherwise he would blast first, and ask questions after.