“I’m the master bard Erin Graysong,” she replied. “Is Gaelin of Mhoried among you, or not? I’ve been riding all night, and if he’s not here, I’ll go my way and keep looking.”
“You’re speaking to him,” Gaelin said. Cautiously, he stepped out into the open and met Erin’s gaze. Her features were sharp and well defined, with high cheekbones, a delicate slant to her eyes, and subtle points to her ears. He realized with a start that she had the blood of the Sidhelien, the elven folk, in her. Ignoring Madislav’s suspicious scowl, he continued, “We were to meet you in Endier, Lady Erin. What brings you here?”
The bard sighed and slid from her horse, taking the reins in her hand and approaching. “I’m afraid I have ill tidings for you, my lord prince,” she said. “I learned today that Baron Tuorel has invaded Mhoried. Riumache has fallen already, and the goblins of Markazor are attacking the northern lands.”
Madislav barked bitter laughter. “Is impossible! Tuorel would need days to bring his army across the Maesil! And Riumache can hold him for weeks.”
“Impossible or not, it’s true,” Erin said. “Yesterday morning, the Maesil froze solid. Tuorel’s army crossed in an hour.”
“The Maesil hasn’t frozen in years!” Gaelin protested.
“Look, you can see it from here. There’s no ice on the river!” He gestured at the mistbound river.
Erin shrugged and looped the reins of her steed over a nearby branch. She looked at him, her face unreadable. “Maybe it only froze farther north. You’re a hundred miles or more from Riumache. My sources are reliable, Prince Gaelin – Tuorel crossed in a single day because the river was frozen.”
She knelt by the campfire and carefully prodded it to life with a shiver.
Gaelin slammed his sword back into its sheath and took a seat across the fire, while Madislav and Ruide followed suit.
He chewed his tongue thoughtfully. “We were in Riumache only two days ago, and there was no ice then. How could the river freeze in so short a time? Tuorel’s army would need a foot of ice to support the wagons and siege engines.”
Erin frowned. “Believe me, Prince Gaelin, I would not have thought it possible, either. But my college – the White Hall – has informants in Ghoere’s camp, and there’s no doubt that Tuorel marched into Riumache. Mhoried and Ghoere are at war. ”
Gaelin stood and paced away. The ground was cold and wet beneath his feet, and the water beaded on his cloak and his blankets. His head reeled at Erin’s message. He had known that Ghoere meant trouble, but in his heart he hadn’t really believed that Mhoried would be plunged into war so quickly. It was unreal. Struggling to grasp the implications of Erin’s news, he complained, “Countess Tenarien should have been able to throw him back, or at least delay him, if he’d crossed by boat.”
“Whatever else you can be saying about Tuorel, he is knowing how to start a war,” Madislav rumbled. “Riumache’s sea walls were made to keep boats out, not men on foot.” He shrugged helplessly. “Lady Tenarien’s keep is strong. Stand a siege she can, even if she is losing the city.”
“I doubt Tuorel will bother to dig her out,” Gaelin replied.
“If I were him, I’d leave some troops behind to keep her bottled up, and I’d keep going.” He rubbed his hands against his arms, noticing the air seemed clammy and colder than it had earlier in the evening. Hundreds or thousands of Mhoriens would be killed or driven from their homes by Tuorel’s army. Fighting the goblins who raided Mhoried’s northern provinces was one thing – goblins were goblins, after all, and in lean times they’d rather steal from their neighbors than starve on their side of the border. He couldn’t imagine what a real war would be like, let alone one fought on Mhoried’s soil. Best worry about what’s next instead of how to win the war, he realized. It’s not in my hands at the moment. Deliberately, he faced Erin and asked, “How in the world did you find us?”
The bard grimaced. “When I heard the news, I thought your plans might change. I figured that I should set out for Shieldhaven on my own, and I didn’t want to wait until the Mhor got around to sending someone to Endier.”
Gaelin studied her, trying to conceal his surprise at her audacity.
“It’s dangerous for a woman to travel these lands alone, Erin. You might have been riding into a brigands’ camp, for all you knew.”
Erin shrugged. “I know how to take care of myself.”
Watching her alert eyes, the poise and confidence of her face, and the easy way she wore the sword at her hip, Gaelin elected to take her at her word. Erin was not an ornament, not by any measure. He wondered what she would have done if she had encountered brigands or highwaymen. “So you set off for Mhoried, just like that?”
“I rode hard all day, making good time. I decided to stop for the night when I encountered Captain Viensen and his men. When I learned that you had been with him until just an hour or two before I arrived, I decided to ride after you. Since Viensen didn’t know about Tuorel’s invasion, I figured that you might not have heard either.”
Ruide spoke up from his seat by the fire. “You may want to reconsider your decision to continue to Endier, Lord Gaelin, especially since Lady Erin has spared us the ride already.”
Erin watched him for a moment, and then added, “There’s more news, Prince Gaelin. I’ve heard that the Ghoerans have been ordered to kill or take you. Although I guess you know that already – Viensen told me about the attack.”
Madislav growled. “I would be liking to get my hands on those kolturski again.” His brows drew together in a fierce scowl. “I am thinking they must have been hired in Riumache.”
“I’m not naive enough to believe that every Mhorien is loyal to the Mhor, but I can’t believe there are men in Riumache who would take gold to put a knife in me,” Gaelin said.
“Think, Gaelin. They had to wait to see if you would take ship or ride to Endier. And they would also need to be knowing which road – or which ship – you would take to be making ambush.”
Gaelin looked up at Madislav. “You’re right. It would have been hard to get word of our route ahead of us, since we weren’t sure of it ourselves. I wish we’d left at least one of those fellows alive. We could have found out exactly who was behind this.”
“They got what they deserved,” Madislav growled. “And if I am ever seeing their friends again, they will have company. ”
“I’d like to get my hands on those bastards for what they did to Daene, but I’d really like to find out who put them up to it,” Gaelin said, staring into the fire.
“Now that is the nyelnye’chik I would like to be getting my hands on,” Madislav observed sourly.
The conversation faltered as Gaelin wrestled with his thoughts. Erin shivered and warmed her hands by the fire. Finally, Gaelin spoke again. “I want to return to Mhoried as quickly as possible.”
“Travel may be dangerous now,” Ruide observed.
“As far as our enemies know, I’m dead already. They shouldn’t be looking for me,” Gaelin said.
“That may not be true,” Erin interrupted, shaking her head. “Viensen told me that he’d had a visitor, earlier this evening. A man in brown robes, asking about you. The captain told me he tried not to say too much, but he just couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut when the man asked him questions.
When this fellow had heard everything Viensen had to tell, he disappeared. ’Withered up and blew away like smoke’ is the way Viensen put it.” She glanced over at Madislav.
“Your nyelnye’chik may be closer than you think.”
“Then this is an excellent time to head back to Mhoried,” Gaelin said. “As far as Viensen knew, we were making for Endier. Whoever this man is, he’ll be looking in the wrong place. We’ll leave at sunup and try to outdistance Ghoere ’ s agent or agents before they figure out which way we’ve gone.”