They ran along in the shadow of the city walls without being pursued. The orcs were expecting her to be heading for the gates.
All of a sudden a form appeared out of one of the alleyways, holding a lantern in his left hand and obviously waiting for them.
Coira recognized The Incomparable!
She ran up. He had a bloodied graze on his face and his right eye was swollen shut-evidence of orc and Lohasbrander attention. He held out his hand, first to the breathless man, then to the young woman. “I wanted to thank you both for what you were trying to do for me,” he said quickly. “I shan’t forget it.”
“Come with us,” responded Coira, hoping he could not hear how loud her heart was beating. He had not let go of her hand. “We’ve got horses for you…”
The Incomparable shook his head. “I can’t leave Mifurdania. There are so many people to whom my words may yet give hope. Now more than ever.” He made as if to kiss her hand. “And I’ve still got to win my title.” He nodded to Rodario and it seemed to Coira that they were exchanging silent messages. “Take my friend with you. He’s in more danger than I am. There’s nobody in the town that would give him shelter and his face is very well known.”
Rodario the Seventh gave an unhappy smile and played with the seam of his left sleeve.
Another wave of disappointment swamped Coira, but she promised, “I will,” conscious of her desire never to let The Incomparable go. Instead she must drag this idiot along with her while her dazzling champion stayed behind doing heroic deeds. Without her. So unfair, gods!
She bent forward and breathed a kiss onto The Incomparable’s cheek, then went off, taking Rodario with her.
“What a man!” said the actor delightedly. “What wouldn’t I give to be like him?”
“And what wouldn’t I give if you were?” she added quietly, blushing. She was ashamed of herself for the mean remark, but Rodario didn’t appear to have heard.
They reached the secret door in the town wall, an ancient one from the days of the old Mifurdania, whence spies could have been dispatched during a siege to find out the enemy’s plans. Few people knew of its existence but Coira had been shown it by Loytan. The Lohasbranders did not know about it. And who would want to show it to them?
Coira looked for the mechanism, while Rodario kept a lookout for any orcs.
“Oy! You down there!” The shout from above caught her by surprise and then an armored night-watchman leaned over the parapet to get a better look. “What are you up to?” He ran along till he came to the next set of steps, coming down with his pike raised, pointing down toward them, ready to stab.
Coira took a step back and lifted her left arm to hold off the man with one of her sleep spells, but she had used up all her store of magic. A slight tingle and fluttering flames appeared on the ends of her fingers, but not enough to be effective. Harmless. A waste of effort.
The night-watchman cursed and put his bugle to his lips.
Then Rodario acted with, for him, great presence of mind. He hurled his second dagger upwards with great strength-but had omitted to take it out of its sheath first!
With a dull thud it collided with the warder’s forehead. He gave a groan and disappeared behind the parapet; then they heard his body fall.
“I’ve lost my last knife!” complained Rodario. “Damn. It was expensive! It was made of…”
“Quiet!” Coira pressed the opening mechanism and part of the wall could now be rolled to one side. “I’ll buy you another one, but now, shift!” She hustled him out. “Even a blind chicken can find a grain of corn, they say.”
“But I’m… not a chicken!” Rodario started to stammer.
Loytan was waiting on the other side and looked baffled when he recognized the actor. “You know you’ve got the wrong one, don’t you, Princess?” he said to her accusingly, feeling duty-bound to point out her mistake.
Coira sighed and swung herself up into the saddle. “Spare me,” she hissed, watching how the actor managed to catch his foot in his robe while trying to get it into the stirrup. The horses moved quickly on and he was still hopping along next to them. “Not a word! I’ll explain on the way,” she added, seeing Loytan opening his mouth again.
At last The Seventh was in the saddle. “Right, we can escape now. I’m ready,” he announced.
“I know who I want to escape from,” she mouthed to Loytan, letting her mount gallop off.
The two men followed. “Where are we going?” called Rodario.
“To the palace,” answered Coira, looking back at the lights she had noticed. Riders with torches were on their trail and she could hear bloodhounds baying. The Lohasbranders were not going to let her get away so easily.
All the more reason to reach the source at Lakepride to stock up on energy.
Otherwise…
Girdlegard,
Protectorate of South Gauragar,
Winter, 6491st Solar Cycle
Hindrek steered the sledge piled high with logs toward the house in the snow-bound forest clearing.
He had prepared this store of timber a few cycles ago and now the time had come to bring the logs home ready to split them into firewood. The family’s woodpile was running out. There had been barely enough to light the kitchen fire that morning.
Hindrek stopped the horses at the barn and called his sons to help with the unloading.
The door opened and two boys came running out, aged eleven and fourteen cycles. Like their father they were wearing coats and hats made of an odd mixture of patched furs ranging from rabbit to squirrel. It did not matter as long as they kept you warm. Their mother waved from the window, holding up a freshly skinned rabbit. It was to be their midday meal.
Hindrek stood on the back of the sledge handing the wood down to Cobert, the elder of the two boys. “So who caught the rabbit?”
“Me,” said Ortram proudly. “It was in my trap.”
“He always knows the places the smallest creatures go,” laughed Cobert, grinning. “But I’m better with the bow, of course.”
“But you haven’t caught anything for ages,” said his brother, sticking his tongue out. “I’m far better than you!”
“Yes, of course, we’d have starved to death without you, wouldn’t we?” laughed Hindrek, passing him a large chunk of wood. “Go and chop this lot up. Do something for those muscles of yours, or you’ll never be able to pull the bowstring back like your brother.”
Now it was Cobert’s turn to stick his tongue out. He went over to the block where the ax lay, his little brother following at his heels.
Hindrek watched them go, then raised his hand in greeting to his wife Qelda, who blew a kiss from the kitchen window. The man watched his two boys unload the sledge, squabbling about which of them was better at doing the heavy work.
Hindrek enjoyed his life as a forester, though he would have preferred not to be in the service of Duke Pawald, a vassal of the alfar. But they left him in peace as long as he carried out his tasks properly. He could only hope that his sons would one day live in freedom, unlike himself.
The wind turned and blew from the north, bringing wonderful music to their ears. Its tones moved them instantly, lifting the hairs on their arms and on the back of their necks.
The song was a sequence of meaningless syllables but the clarity of the woman’s voice and the emotion with which she sang had them all entranced, rooting them to the spot and forcing them to stare into the forest from whence the sound came. But the melody grew ever fainter until finally silence returned.
Ortram turned to his father in ecstasy. “What was that?”
Hindrek shivered, filled with yearning, a longing to experience more of what he had just been granted. “I cannot tell. Perhaps a traveler passing the time on her journey by singing to herself.”