Keelan gave a grunt of disapproval. “That would be folly; the wounds are still there. Many of their neighbors took what they left. They wouldn’t give it back after so many years, and others innocent of wrongdoing or bloodshed bought the abandoned keeps and garths. Are they to be flung out penniless? Two wrongs will not make a right.”
“That I know,” Hadrann told him. “I have no solution, only Hi-larion’s message. Escore and Estcarp grow stronger and closer linked. If Shastro attacks, then Shastro will lose—and all our land with him. However, if we stay within our borders, then they have no reason to do aught but leave us be. They’d prefer that.”
Keelan snorted. “Of course they would. They are two to our one. If they have time to grow strong they can turn to rend us at their leisure.”
Aisling stared. “Keelan, my brother. You forget we are of their blood. When have we ever attacked merely to steal land. I lived three years in Escore. I spoke often to those from Estcarp. They do not wish to drown us again in blood.”
“Maybe not. But I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a little blood if they could recover all they lost. They’re people too, Aisling. Not saints just because they have the power and the Old Blood.” He turned to the silent Hadrann. “What do you say?”
“I say that if you, who should know better, think this way, then many who know less will already be fearing it. But tell me, Keelan. Think back to all the history between the lands that you have ever heard. How many times have we attacked Estcarp, and how many times have they attacked us. Who always began the wars?”
Keelan sighed. “I know. It was Karsten that was the aggressor, but maybe Estcarp grows tired of that. And if they do and this other land aids them, then we could be crushed. I know we have the Old Blood, but this is my land and I love it. I would rather stay here and die than desert it to die without me.”
“And we all work to see no land must die,” Aisling snapped. She turned to Hadrann. “Was that all the message?”
“No. There have been a couple of minor raids on Estcarp’s border where it meets the sea toward their south keep. Farms have been burned and all those there murdered save for a couple of their people each time. Those seem to have been taken away to Karsten. No scrying can find them, so they are believed dead.”
“Kirion?”
“Likely enough, but worse still. It seems that from the second farm a witch was taken, a sixteen-year-old girl on her first visit to kinfolk since her departure to be trained. Hilarion knows little more save that she is now missing, taken, they believe. The raid was only a few days gone, and she may still be alive. It is asked that if we meet her we aid her if we can. They know it’s not likely, but she’s almost a child still, only just trained, and they grieve for what may be happening to her.”
All three shuddered. “We can guess,” Aisling said in a low voice. “If Kirion has her, the girl’s death will be neither easy nor slow. Could the messenger tell us anything of how much time has elapsed? When was she taken?”
“A week ago,” Hadrann said, “but they had soldiers in the area who rode to cover the border at once.” He looked at them. “If those who took her were Kirion’s creatures, then they must bring her back alive and undamaged. For that they must move slowly and carefully. I believe they may have circled southeast toward this area. I spent an hour wringing out all the messenger knew, then I studied maps. I think it likely they’ll try to come back past Trevalyn keep. Jarn might like to hear about this, don’t you think?”
Keelan grinned. “Jarn doesn’t like Shastro and he loathes Kirion.
I think he’d be happy to help us foil any of their plans, if that was why we drove this way. I’d wondered.”
“He’s your cousin.”
“Sort of. Old Geavon is grandfather’s third or fourth cousin I think. Jam is his grandnephew. Aisling has never met him but 1 have. I liked the man. He’s sensible, a hard worker, and he isn’t against the Old Blood. His great love is his estate, his own lands, and his family and their name. He’s the sort who would rather work his land and live in peace, not that he always gets that. This area has become dangerous with bandits again.”
Hadrann looked thoughtful. “So if we all arrive at his keep even unexpectedly, we’d be welcomed?”
“With the best he has, which may not be saying much.”
“Still, we’d be welcome.” Hadrann thrust his head through the window and gave orders. The carriage lurched on its springs as it turned into the narrower rougher road leading upward. Wind Dancer opened one eye to complain of the bumps before going back to sleep. The horses settled into their traces to pull harder against the steepening slope.
“We should be at Trevalyn before nightfall. Once we’re there we shall go hunting. We’ll split up into three groups. We’ll hunt and shoot all over the whole area. Bring back deer, duck, anything edible for the table. It’s a good excuse, and as long as we do bring back something most days, no one will question it,” Hadrann continued.
“What about me,” Aisling queried. “Am I myself or cousin Murna? I’ll have to stay as Murna, I know. Our guards would ask too many questions otherwise. But do we tell Jam?”
Keelan considered. “I say we keep quiet. Tell him if anything goes wrong and we must, but apart from that we say nothing. The fewer people who know a secret the fewer there are who can betray it, even by accident.”
“That’s sensible. Very well.”
The carriage lurched upward. Within the jerking vehicle Aisling felt a sudden warmth against her breast. The hidden pendant was warning her but of what? She opened her mouth to speak. Behind the carriage the hired guard were riding slowly on the rutted track. One halted his horse and gaped down, then he dismounted hastily. His companion saw and then he too was off his horse, scooping up the small coins. Why, there must be a week’s pay here in lesser silvers and coppers dropped by some careless fool. The guard captain turned to find all of his six men groveling in the dust.
“What… ?” An arrow took him in the chest, but the captain was an old soldier and knew his duty. With his dying breath he screamed a warning. His men too were experienced. Three fell to arrows, but the other three took cover. Ahead, Keelan’s driver recognized the danger. He swung the carriage horses up and behind an outcrop of stone. They halted obediently as the driver fell hurriedly from his exposed perch. He thrust his head through the window and explained to his master in a frantic gabble.
Keelan listened. “I see. How many of the guard are dead?”
“Three at least, Lord Keelan, and the captain. Others of them may be wounded.”
“Did you see any of our attackers?” The man denied it. He did not explain he hadn’t looked—he’d been too busy—but Keelan understood. “Good man. You did the right thing. I want you to keep a lookout. Watch where the guards went to cover and keep a sharp eye out for any of our attackers. I must talk with my friends.”
Aisling was waiting outside the carriage with Hadrann as Keelan returned. “If I sit on the floor of the carriage where I can’t be seen, I may be able to read them. I should be able to tell you their numbers. Maybe something of their plans.”
“Do it,” Hadrann ordered.
Aisling slipped cautiously back into the vehicle. Wind Dancer greeted her with a thrust of his head against her cheek. She smiled, hugged him gently, then sat down on the carriage floor. She slid into a comfortable pose, shut her eyes, raised her hand to cup the hidden pendant, and easily found the trance Hilarion had taught her.