He stared at her, at the piercing cobalt eyes, at the thin line of her lips, at the slender shoulders squared and set, everything thrust forward combatively, daring him to challenge her.
“I believe you,” he said, and meant it.
“Besides,” she said, not relaxing herself an inch, “you need me to make your plan work.”
“How do you know about—”
“You’re the wrong one to go into Tyrsis with Damson,” she interrupted, ignoring his unfinished question. “It should be me.”
“... the plan?” he finished, trailing off. He put his hands on his hips, frustrated. “Why should it be you?”
“Because I won’t be noticed and you will. You’re too obvious, Highlander. You look exactly like what you are! Anyway, your face is known to the Federation and mine isn’t. And if anything goes wrong, you don’t know your way around Tyrsis, and I do. I’ve been there many times. Most important of all, they won’t be looking for two women. We’ll walk right past them, and they won’t give us a second glance.”
She squared up to him again. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged.
He smiled in spite of himself. “I guess I can’t do that.” He looked away into the trees, hoping the answer to her demand lay there. It didn’t. He looked back again. “Why don’t you ask Chandos? He’s in charge, not me.”
Her expression did not change. “I don’t think so. At least not in this case.” She paused, waiting. “Well? Can I go?”
He sighed, suddenly weary. Maybe she was right. Maybe having her along would be a good idea. She certainly gave a convincing argument. Besides, hadn’t he just finished telling himself that his plan needed help? Perhaps Matty Roh was a little of what was needed.
“All right,” he agreed. “You can come.”
“Thanks.” She turned away and started back toward the camp, her cloak slung over one shoulder.
“But Chandos has to agree, too!” he called after her, still looking for a way out.
“He already has!” she shouted back in reply. “He said to ask you.”
She gave him a quick smile over her shoulder as she disappeared into the trees.
Chandos was terse and withdrawn at breakfast, and Morgan left him alone, choosing to sit instead with Damson Rhee. The long table they occupied was crowded and the men were boisterous, so the Highlander and the girl didn’t say much to each other, concentrating on their food and the conversation around them. Matty Roh appeared briefly, passing next to Morgan without looking at him, on her way to someplace else. She paused long enough to say something to Chandos, which caused him to scowl deeply. Morgan didn’t hear what she said but had no trouble imagining what it might be.
When the meal was concluded Chandos pushed to his feet, bellowed at everyone still seated to get to work, and called Damson and Morgan aside. He took them out of the trees and onto the open bluff once more, waiting until they were out of earshot to speak. Dark-visaged and gruff, he announced that during the night word had arrived through the free-born network that the Elves had returned to the Westland. This news was several days old and not entirely reliable, and he wanted to know what Morgan and the girl thought.
“I think it’s possible,” Morgan said at once. “Returning the Elves to the Westland was one of the charges given to the Ohmsfords.”
“If Paranor is back, the Elves could be back as well,” agreed Damson.
“And that would mean that all the charges have been fulfilled,” Morgan added, growing excited now. “Chandos, we have to know if it’s true.”
The big man’s scowl returned. “You’ll want another expedition, I suppose—as if one wasn’t enough!” He sighed wearily. “All right, I’ll send someone to check it out, a messenger to let them know they have friends in Callahorn. If they’re there, we’ll find them.”
He went on to add that he had chosen the men for the journey to Tyrsis and that supplies and weapons were being assembled as they spoke. Everything should be in place by mid-morning, and as soon as it was they would depart.
As he turned to leave, Morgan asked impulsively, “Chandos, what’s your opinion of Matty Roh?”
“My opinion?” The big man laughed. “I think she gets pretty much anything she wants.” He started away again, then called back, “I also think you’d better watch your step with her, Highlander.”
He went on, disappearing into the trees, yelling orders as he went.
Damson looked at Morgan. “What was that all about?”
Morgan told her about his meeting with Matty at Varfleet and their journey to Firerim Reach. He told her about the girl’s insistence that she be included in their effort to rescue Padishar. He asked Damson if she knew anything about Matty Roh. Damson did not. She had never met her before.
“But Matty’s right about two women attracting less attention,” she declared. “And if she was able to persuade both you and Chandos that she should go on this journey, I’d say you’d both better watch out for her.”
Morgan left to put together his pack for the trek south, strapped on his weapons, and went back out on the bluff. Within an hour the company that Chandos had chosen was assembled and ready to leave. It was a hard and capable-looking bunch, some of them men who had fought side by side with Padishar against the Creeper at the Jut. A few recognized Morgan and nodded companionably. Sending one man on ahead to scout for any trouble, Chandos led the rest, Morgan and Damson and Matty Roh with them, down off Firerim Reach toward the plains beyond.
They walked all day, descending out of the Dragon’s Teeth to the Rabb, then turning south to cross the river and continue on toward Varfleet. They traveled quickly, steadily through the heat, the sky clear and cloudless, the sun burning down in a steady glare, causing the air above the dusty grasslands to shimmer like water. They rested at midday and ate, rested again at midafternoon, and by nightfall had reached the flats that led up into the Valley of Shale. A watch was set, dinner was eaten, and the company retired to sleep. Morgan had walked with Damson during the day, and bedded down close to her that night. While she probably neither needed nor wanted it, he had assumed a protective attitude toward her, determined that if he could not do anything for Par or Coll just at the moment, at least he could look after her.
Matty Roh had kept to herself most of the day, walking apart from everyone, eating alone when they rested, choosing to keep her own company. No one seemed all that surprised that she was along; no one seemed to question why she was there. Several times Morgan thought to speak with her, but each time he saw the set of her face and the deliberate distance she created between herself and others, and decided not to.
At midnight, restless from dreams and the anticipation of what lay ahead, he awoke and walked down to the edge of the grove of trees in which they had sheltered to look up at the sky and out across the plains. She appeared suddenly at his elbow. Silent as a ghost, she stood next to him as if she might have been expected all along. Together, they stared out across the empty stretch of the Rabb, studying the outline of the land in the pale starlight, breathing the lingering swelter of the day in the cooling night.
“The country I was born in looked like this,” she said after a time, her voice distant. “Flat, empty grasslands. A little water, a lot of heat. Seasons that could be harsh and beautiful at the same time.” She shook her head. “Not like the Highlands, I expect.”
He didn’t say anything, just nodded. A stray bit of wind ruffled her black hair. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, its cry fading unanswered into silence.
“You don’t know what to make of me, do you?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I don’t. You’re a pretty confusing person.”