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The Heartwood
The Highland Path
Highside, West of Silk Creek Ravine
After Sunset and then On the Road
Attaday, the eighth day of Poet

Bekkah, Daxia, Darian, Mikal, Jankin, Dean, Cesare, Kadri ... Morning Star, Longtooth, Kay and Romana


The morning was quiet; the sun casting shadows the entire length of the world, crisscrossing here and there as She poked her had over the far, far off mountains, through the scattered boulders and rock outcroppings of this broken landscape. The jagged streaks seemed to somehow fit the morning solemnness, as Llugh walked from dark to light to grey, collecting his stones. If this land grew anything in abundance, it was small pebbles and chips of rock, more than enough to suit the Jvrillian's purpose.

The black unicorn stood at Daxia's shoulder, grim and silent, the wind tousling his dark mane ever so perfectly, so much like the hero in a minstrel's song. One hoof occasionally scraped at the ground, a harsh *clop* every now and then. His gaze looked to the east first and to the west, followed by a single, sharp equine snort.

It was Longtooth, the snarkhound, the big ruff the only one seeming to ignore the funereal awakening. he hadsomehow found a rabbit or two, which he has dropped down between Darian and Cesare's bedrolls, before finding first a large rock and thn a half bent dying tree ... to end up on the rooftop of the worn and empty house. There he sat, like an elder might, looking towards the rising sun a bit ... as one might from a keep's tall gallery - looking down into the great hall where minstrels and mummers put on their passion play.

A simile, perhaps, lost upon most of this motley crew.

For the rest, the snarkhound simply seemed quite attentive in his watch.

What came next was a gentle footstep.

Followed by a sudden stomp, a little skid and a dark dark look. Where this pair had been, that morning, was a little bit of a mystery; but a commonplace one. As everyone was waking and gathering their things, so did Romana and Kay; for both to have vanished for a little bit before was nothing untoward.

But now they faced each other, on opposite sides of the small gravesite, shadow and light, night and day, east and west, starbred killer and hellspawned princess. Both held their hands cupped, and in both was a clump of dirt from which sprang a splash of color, whites and yellows, dusty and defiant.

Wildflowers.

The look the Dayalan gave the Princess was priceless, a narrowed eyed and fierce one and one didn't have to hear to know it was a how dare you ... of all folkes ... this was MY idea kind of glare.

To which Romana simply shrugged light curvy shoulders, returning only the lightest giggle. She almost lost her burdens, however, when she clamped her hand over her mouth, since this was supposed to be a right serious morning.

The two, almost as one, kneeled. with a bit of trouble, with a bit of work, set the flowers on either side of the pebble runes. When they rose, Romana simply hopped a few steps backwards. Kay humfed, turning on her heel, a full one hundred and eighty degrees and then just crossed her arms.

The transplanted wildflowers wobbled a bit. The two certainly were no matter no famers or gardeners, either of them. But their hearts were in that task. Both of them.

It was not long after that, as Cesare prepared breakfast, that the snarkhound's flopped over ears perked. He still remained sitting, his attention snared by rising whisps of dust further up the trail. And not long after that he rough and staccato beat of hooves upon rock was heard, heralding the approach of tow ... no ... three riders.

They heeled their horses around, when they spied the horses and barn.

"Hoi at the ...."

And Daxia's mount; which did bring a pause.

"... the Richter ..."

"... can't be. That fatherless wench rides alone ..."

They gathered themselves and slowly approached.

"Hoi at the house."

There were three of them. They were dressed roughly, and while they did wear a gray band of cloth, wrapped and knotted about their upper arm, they bore no other tabards or surcoats. Their clothes, mostly leathers and perhaps some bits of plate here and there, were covered with dust - tail dust covering a hint of darker, heavier dusted stone. Their faces were ruddy and tan, as if most of their days were spent out of doors. Two carried simple spears; it was the one with a sword at his side that rode a few steps forward.

"Hoi at the house ...

"Have you seen a bloke pass by, last night, this morn? He'd be a big bloke, burly and all, not dressed to well, heading towards the sunset.

"He'd not be armed, or shouldn't be, last he had been seen.

"But he's prolly have steel about wrists and ankles, and if there's still chains on them, that'd prolly be right dangerous."

Jankin

He'd watched, silently observing Lugh's ritual, offering his respect, and had wandered out towards the front in time to observe the dialogue with the mounted men. Initially, he'd been mildly afraid they might be referring to him, but 'big and burly with manacles' didn't seem a good fit so he relaxed.

Mikal

He nods thanks to Kay and Romana as they lay wildflowers near the tree and then clasps Daxia's arm in return as they turn to go. "Still, you have my thanks." He says simply, and earnestly, in return.

..... Later that morning.......

Buckling the final straps on his armour and weapon belts he steps out from the barn and observes the men who had just ridden up coolly. **Montagne wannabes? .... no......** his expression turns grimmer, **..... guards from the quarries, ...chasing a runaway.**

He steps out of the barn and looks up at the swordsman. "Why do you look for him?"

Kadri finally approaches Mikal after all is done.

"I have talked to my lady. She is friends with Krysta. I have asked that she ... Look in on those you love."

… later that morning …

She slid behind Mikal and waited for the answer.

Daxia

She watched from a handful of paces behind Mikal, dressed now in traveling tunics and armor. This was his home; he understood these lands better than she. Although... she understood them well enough to guess who these men were, and who they might be following. Quarry guards or overseers... chasing down a man who’d escaped. It was far less likely that the escaped man was actually a criminal than a person the Montagues had simply pressed into slavery. Though, however small the likelihood, it wasn’t something that could be completely discounted.

Of course, the night and the early morning had been still and quiet. She did wonder, though, about Longtooth perching on the roof of the house like that. He was far too clever to be surveying the area around them for no reason at all. It wasn’t exactly that he was more perceptive and aware of their surroundings than Morning Star, it was more a matter of perspective... mortal versus Immortal.

Daxia glanced at Darian and caught her eye... then lifted a questioning eyebrow as her eyes moved from the Hunter to Longtooth and back again.

That was one question asked; the answer would come when it came.

Wrapping the mantle of proper court manners around herself, Daxia stepped forward a few paces — just slightly farther than an arm’s length from Mikal, ever the mindful soldier. She was neither farm girl nor noble, clearly a Dayalan Verchovai, standing out with her mop of red hair. Courtesy was the only option she had here. She regarded the horsemen with just a touch of interest... enough not to be insulting, yet not enough that her question could be construed as anything beyond honest curiosity.

“We heard no sounds of travel... none that my friends mentioned, at any rate.” She glanced across the barren terrain and shrugged lightly before turning bright blue eyes to the swordsman once again. “But one such as you describe, even if he is a dullard... well, would he not avoid the road altogether?”

Well, perhaps... and perhaps not. The trick would be to encourage the horsemen to seek the escapee in the direction he would least likely go, and to have them believe themselves clever for chasing him in whatever direction that was. While she might be able to accomplish the latter, convincing them to chase their own tails was really more Kadri’s area of expertise. And if Kadri did manage that... well, no doubt her Lady would find it at least somewhat amusing.

Daxia also kept a sharp eye out for Kay, ready to bop the young Initiate over the head yet again if she so much as said a single word.

Cesare

He stays within the shadow of the barn, observing. Certainly he had seen nothing when he stood watch over Mikal's return the night before.. but he wouldn't have told them if he had. It wasn't any of his business and besides he doesn't like the idea of anyone not having a free choice over where they go. He guesses there are exceptions to that but probably less many than those denied those choices for no good reason.

As he watches the scene evolve, he feels a shiver pass down his back. It might be the chill of the morning, it might be the winds of Fate stirring eddies around them. It feels more like the latter but he attempts to push the feeling to one side and keep his attention on the rabbit meat in the pot. Not long before it is ready.

The Heartwood
The Highland Path
Highside, West of Silk Creek Ravine
After Sunset and then On the Road
Marketday, the fourteenth day of Poet

Bekkah, Daxia, Darian, Mikal, Jankin, Dean, Cesare, Kadri ... Morning Star, Longtooth, Kay and Romana

The first response to the queries was the draw of a midwinter's hat down over long sable locks, a duck of a head, at once both subservient and proper and perhaps if one were even sharper, a subservience and propriety that was known to be expected, how a servant behaves before their betters. She busied herself at Cesare's side, as if waiting for instructions. However it was not the the three riders nor the rabbit stew had not stolen Romana's attention - well except for an occasional sniff and a tummy rumble. No; she was looking curiously, eyes of sapphire considering the odd one of their party; Longtooth.

The lead rider's horse whuffled, a one hoof restlessly tapping at the hard packed ground. Resting back in his saddle the quarry guard answered Mikal first.

"Bloke ran out of the Laine's Town quarries end of last month and it's our task to be bringin' him back. And considerin' he left two dead in Juleston when he passed on through, he's wanted back right powerful bad."

At Daxia's side ... or rather from her back, Kay peered around at the horsemen, giving them a fierce look. Her nose twitched, once, and she then just humfed and straightened herself out, brushing the trail dust of her tunics.

A humf is many things, but not a word.

"Look about, lassie ..."

The lead rider turned his attention to Daxia, his tone lecturing, as if speaking down, as if explaining the obvious.

"You get yourself tossed into the quarries up here and your choices end. They are now made for you. Your work or you die. You run, you run west or east. East is right to the motte and bailey; and that's the last place anyone be running to. North and south? Get half a day out and if'n the wolves don't get you first you'll be heading right back to the trail to be findin' food.

"That leaves east and hopin' you can get yourself lost in the poorest ring of Talantal before you get ketched."

Leaning forward again he'd continue.

"He's many things, lassie ... mean, nasty, a law breaker, knowing he has no choices ahead of him, now he's on the run and desperate,

"Normally he'd leave a group this size alone. Too many swords. But only one and a half of you ..."

He'd glance at Mikal and Dean.

"... prolly knows how to actually use that steel, no matter how proud, fancy and fiery you are. Plus you got a gaggle of of lassies ..."

He'd look from Daxia to Kay to Bekkah - all fair and pretty and harmless - to Romana and Kadri - far too small, too easily tossed aside - and even Darian.

" ... and this bloke's right powerful desperate."

Mikal

Finishing the adjustments on his armour and settling his swords and dagger on his hips and across his back he moves a bit closer to the lead horseman.

He doesn't directly answer the comment about the man fleeing the quarries, although he can't help keep the corner of his lips from twitching upwards and thinking, **Good for him.**

"How did it happen? In Juleston I mean. Was it some trying to bring him in?" He asks, regarding the man's comment about the deaths there.

As he waits for a reply, he adds a soft, "Shhhh", to the man's horse, reaching up to gently stroke it's neck and nose, which also conveniently places him where he can grab the horse's bridle if he needs to.

"Nice horse."

Cesare

He almost laughs at the comment regarding the abilities of the womenfolk in this group, instead sharing a grin anmd a wink with Romana, hidden as they were behind the others.

He does note mentally though that this deperate man, if indeed he is one, might also underestimate their strength. They should stay alert on their journies in this area.

Kadri

"Cor, as weak an' ignorant as I am, I think..."

She pauses.

"Might think of off to' trail an' risk in' the wolves as bein' bettern' bein' caught by a fierce on as you an' tha' a fair bit."

She probed a little to see what he says.

Jankin

This was the first time he'd encountered someone with so vast an under-estimation of women and their capabilities, having been raised by his mentor to revere them as representatives of Her. Certainly he'd always considered them to be equals, albeit ones whose ways he knew little about where they differed from men. He wondered about this desperate man, what he'd done, where he'd gone, and if he too would think little of the women with their group. If so, the worse for him.

Daxia

Daxia wasn’t entirely certain that the lead horseman was trying to provoke her; perhaps he was simply dismissive of all women. Likely the latter was the case, as he hadn’t seemed to recognize Bekkah for who she was... a priestess of Attera and therefore, technically, the most powerful person in their group. Well, at least as long as they were on this side of the Black Mountains and Snowgate Pass she was. Dazi thought back to her days in Dawnview, being harassed by Initiates who spent more time giggling over boys than their lessons or their sword work, and changed tack.

She smiled up at the man, bright and charming and cheerful. “Your thoughtfulness in explaining this land says much about you, good sir. I had no idea how large and yet so closed in it was!” She looked wide-eye around them. “Goodness, who would have thought it? And how dreadfully terrible it would be to come upon such a desperate man as this escapee!”

Indeed. If the man was desperate enough to attack their group, it would be dreadfully terrible for him. If he truly was a criminal... well, that was one thing, of course. But if he was merely an unfortunate individual such as Mikal’s father and uncle had been, a person dragged off to the quarries for no other reason than the Montagues were bullies? Ah, now there was a different matter altogether.

“Oh, and as for all our shiny weapons and such frippery...” Daxia turned to Kay and grinned — it might even have appeared to be a great smile of fondness, too, to most — before she rubbed the top of the youngster’s head. “...my little Sister here is coming along well in her lessons.” The redhead looked back at the horseman and giggled.

Dear Dayala, the insane things I do in Your service!

“I am only good enough to have caught the attention of an Immortal.” She shrugged. “Well, perhaps slightly better than only good enough, for I seem to have caught the attention of the most Magnificent of the Immortals.” Smiling brightly again, she asked, “Laine’s Town? Oh, that wouldn’t be where the famous Miller MacLaine lives, would it be? Do you think apples could be found there this time of year? Goodness, the Magnificent Immortal one does love his apples!”

I do draw the line at batting my eyelashes, my Lady. I’m afraid that’s just not something I can manage without collapsing with laughter.

Cesare

Even from inside the barn Cesare can detect the sarcasm in Daxia's voice, veiled as it is in sweetness and charm. He pauses in stirring the pot, hoping that the guy is as stupid as he sounds and taken in with Daxia's pretty face, rather than listening to her words, otherwise trouble may be brewing.

He readies himself just in case.

The Heartwood
The Highland Path
Highside, West of Silk Creek Ravine
After Sunset and then On the Road
Marketday, the fourteenth day of Poet

Bekkah, Daxia, Darian, Mikal, Jankin, Dean, Cesare, Kadri ... Morning Star, Longtooth, Kay and Romana

"Gawk!"

Which wasn't really a word either; Kay squawked as she tried and failed to duck her head away from her mentor's rustling, giving her a sidelongs look from beneath tousled bangs. Her nose would wrinkle as her lips tightly sealed and she kicked a stray rock away, hard. The lead rider from Montague simply watched with a mote of amusement before speaking.

"Well then, I guess what they say about taste is and its accountin' is right powerful true ..."

The quarry guard almost snorts his answer to daxia, as he slowly turns his horse's head away from Mikal's reach.

"Laddie, I woulda thought someone like you would know that reachin' for a strange horse is a good way to be gettin' yourself bitten."

Resettling his mount the rider would then return his hands to the top of his saddle's horn.

"And as for the criminal, well, for some reason he dinnae like the work clothes he had been given. So he took some from one of the crafters in town; now we suspect that the candewright wasn't quite agreeable with being stolen from. So he ended up dead. His wife? Best we can figure that she was killed just for spite.

"He also took some food, some copper, a hatchet, mebbe a knife or two; all signs say he was headin' this-a-way."

Turning his attention back to Daxia he returned to her question.

"MacLaine? Famous? Mayhaps in his on mind and for havin' the only licensed mill between here and Dag's old Keep. But aye, that's where Rolf lives; he's headman of the village, on account of his license.

"Apples? Perhaps. There's some remnant orchards near the shores of the tarn. But they's small and spindly looking and bloody hard." He'd nod towards the gravesite and the poorly transplanted wildflowers.

"Nuthin' survives here thats pretty. No one to take care of such. Here only the strong survive."

Cesare

Keeping out of sight seems the best move, bit like keeping an ace up your sleeve except that he knows he is not an ace. Maybe a knave? The thought amuses him.

He smiles at Romana, trusting that she too, even though for other reasons, wants to keep her head down also.

Darian

As as been her custom, she merely watches with a keen eye, noting both the actions of the snarkhound and those who ride up. Her bow is not put away but neither is it a hair's breadth from ready. With reason, a reason only shared with Mikal, she is wary of these. She understands her furry companion's stance but will wait until these have moved on before taking the matter up with him.

As for the tale of the escapee, she does not begrudge the man his flight. Better to die free than live a slave. If what they speak of the one is true, her Lord would approve of him.

Mikal

He shrugs when the man yanks the horses head away. "True enough for a warhorse." He murmurs, leaving unsaid the comment that he doubts this man merits a war-trained mount. He moves from the horses head, to it's side, placing himself even with the horse's flank, near where the man sits in his saddle.

"Well, you've delivered your warning, and as my friends have said, we've seen no one matching that description. We'll keep our eyes open. Was there something else?"

Daxia

The redhead shrugged philosophically. “True enough, so says the saying regarding taste and such, what with the world being such a huge and oftentimes perplexing place.” Daxia nodded in a friendly way, as she would have if she’d been conversing with... oh, say one of Dandy’s men of the Wild Horde. The horseman’s story of the escaped man didn’t ring true for her, though. Oh, no doubt he likely stole some clothing. That seemed to sit well enough. And perhaps... just perhaps... he even accidentally killed another man over the clothing he took. But killing the candlewright’s wife for spite? No, that had an echo of such falsehood that Dazi nearly lost her pleasant smile. Were things so different out here in the lands held by the Montagues that people accepted the idea that things were done simply for spite? It was something she’d have to puzzle through later, perhaps talk with Mikal about it... but in her experience, everyone had a reason for what they did. From the dishonest merchants of Cragside to the Jvrillians of the Dark Mark to the members of the Thing of Bordertown and even the hapless barkeep at Highside Heather... people did things for reasons. The reasons might not be as clear as fine glass, but spite didn’t seem to be a reason for anything. Perhaps it was just his way of saying nobody knows why she was killed and we may never know?

Ah, but on with the show!

“But surely if I’ve heard of him...” She rested one hand on her hip and tapped her chin with the forefinger of her other hand. “...though after all these years I couldn’t rightly say where I heard of him, or even who told me his tale, but I do recall the bit about having a fine mill and it being a rare one.”

All of this, of course, was lies heaped upon more lies, for she did recall a tale Gilly had told... a tale she said she’d heard from Poppy.

“But the part of the story I recall most — so I must have been quite young and still overly impressionable about such things — was that the miller had the most beautiful wife in all the land, with hair red like mine except of course so much more beautiful than my mop. And that — this part was whispered, you understand, because... well, such things are whispered in the Black Mountains, you know — she was even more beautiful than the Khorall beyond the Snowgate Pass.” Daxia nodded knowingly to the horseman. “You’d see why such a thing would be whispered even in Kierkegaard lands hard against the Rock.” Again, she shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure it was just a fanciful tale and an exaggeration worthy of the best minstrels! Why, for all I know, the Miller MacLaine has a plain wife with plain hair, and half a dozen perfectly plain children.”

She looked around... ostensibly toward the grave site, but keen eyes noting the clear absence of Cesare and Romana in the barn’s door way and the way Longtooth cleverly blended with the pitch of the house’s roof... then gave the horseman a single dip of her head in acknowledgment. Every bit of her story of the miller’s wife was fabrication, but a well reasoned one based on what she knew of her Khorall’s family and what she and the group had discovered in the grove when they rescued Romana.

“Yes, I can see where such a fanciful tale would be fanciful.” Daxia shook her head sadly. “If he knows such a tale was spread, even long ago, that would certainly give Miller MacLaine reasons in his own mind to believe himself famous, don’t you think?”

When Mikal very obviously made it clear the men were not exactly welcome, Daxia simply stood very much as she’d seen other Initiates doing during the Festivals... hands clasped behind their backs, watching the festivities with expectation. Dazi had always thought that was an impractical pose, which is why her hands were very definitely not clasped. It was certainly not as convenient for drawing weapons as having hands loosely held in front... or, even better, hands already on her weapons. But she was absolutely not going to antagonize the horsemen.

If anyone was going to do that, it was Mikal’s right and his decision.

Kadri:

"Innerestin' horse, tha'. What, pray tell, might be its breeding?"

She looks over the horse with a practiced eye quickly, to judge if the man at least took care of his horse ...

The Heartwood
The Highland Path
Highside, West of Silk Creek Ravine
After Sunset and then On the Road
Attaday, the eighth day of Poet

Bekkah, Daxia, Darian, Mikal, Jankin, Dean, Cesare, Kadri ... Morning Star, Longtooth, Kay and Romana

"Its just a crusader lassie. Most common kind of horse this hear abouts."

As the first rider turned away, so did his two companions, or at least they began too. He paused, first as Longtooth slowly loped from the rooftop to end next to Darian. The two looked at each other, the snarkhound shaking his head, ending with one notched ear perked upwards. The second reason, however, was to answer the elder Dayallan's question.

"Yah mean Inno?"

The man just shook his head, looking down a bit.

"Pretty lass, and nice enough, I guess. We's quarry folk and he's town folk, so our paths didn't cross much. Heard she had the patience of a boulder, the way she let Rolf boss her around, keep her close to home and smack her when she got out of line.

"Until a while ago; a year, maybe more?

"The day after her daughter ran off, Rolf got himself called up to the Keep. When he came down he was powerful angry and blamed whatever happened between him and the Warlord was all his wife's fault. Now the way I heard it, he went to strike her and she, like she had been savin' up her backbone for years and all, came after him with a carvin' knife.

"Rolf's whatcha call a widower now. But before she got beat down she made bloody sure he'd be rememberin' her every time he looked at his reflection."

"Powerful waste. If'n yah ask me."

He'd then continue, urging his horse a few steps down the trail towards Talental, offerin' a final nod to Mikal.

"Nay, that be it. Figured there's worse things in the world than being a mite neighborly. Fair travels."

Unless questioned more, the three sheriffs would then continue upon their way.

Mikal

He grunts non-committedly. **Or perhaps the escapee came upon the man attacking his wife and intervened to save her, but was too late? It could be anything. No way to tell.** However he admits to himself that his personal prejudices will automatically side with any who oppose those of the Quarries.

He watches the men ride off until he is sure they are gone, then he turns to the others. "So. Where to?"

Daxia

Daxia watched the horsemen ride off, wondering if she had really expected any other conclusion to her quest. She couldn’t understand why Innocence had remained as mild — or at least patient — as she had for all these years, though...

She sighed to herself. Allaines played games that spanned generations. Innocence had been the Khorall of Snowgate Keep, not some naive orphaned farm girl who grew up in a Temple. Daxia wasn’t a mother and would never be, but she tried to understand how a person could subsume their very self for the sake of their child. She’d heard of such things... it’s possible she’d even seen the evidence of it without knowing it. A mother’s love was rumored to be stronger than even ironsilver.

But what she now knew about Khorall Innocence’s fate wasn’t something she could share with Khorall Linnell, or even Kisa... that somewhere out there, with Poppy Gwynn if rumors were true, a niece and cousin was training to be a Dayalan. And yet...

And yet, how could she hide the truth from Kisa? If anyone could be trusted to safely hold that information... to say only what would not lead to catastrophic repercussions, it was Kisa. How could she, and how could she not, share such a personal and emotional thing with her friend? Kisa had certainly been young when Innocence disappeared, but she’d have been old enough to remember her aunt. Dazi had memories — soft and kind, and fading more with each passing season, true — of her father, of her mother. Hadn’t Innocence disappeared some time after she and Bekkah had arrived at the Dawnview Temple? Dazi couldn’t possibly predict how Kisa would react to the reality of a heretofore unknown cousin. It was something she could mull over for quite a long time, though... deciding what, if anything, to say to Kisa. It could be years before she got back to Dawnview.

And knowing Kisa... well, knowing Kisa, she may already have seen the tiles lined up to form the sort of grand pattern Dazi would never see until the last tile fell.

She found that she’d wandered over to Morning Star, thoroughly distracted. Why did she think an Immortal would give her any comfort in this all too human turmoil? He was an Immortal... and probably quite rightly egocentric. The fact that she was his rider might give him some measure of concern for her well-being, but how could he begin to understand such mundane human things as despair and doubt? Her life, her fears, her worries... all of it was nothing more than a speck of dust floating in the air for no more than the blink of an eye. And yet... and yet, resting her head against his very solid, very real, very NOW neck did bring her a small measure of comfort. He was a constant now in her life... very much the opposite of what she was in his life. Dayalans are chosen and Dayalans die... and unless the horrific happens, Unicorns will continue on until She tires of Time, and likely even beyond.

The truth was...

What was the truth, anyway? That she was weary of saving the world and the people in it? No, that wasn’t quite it, though weary she most assuredly was. Perhaps it was the traveling. Perhaps it was the lack of solitude. She’d been so accustomed to solitude in Dawnview. Since leaving home last Yrick, she’d had only moments of solitude snatched at odd times when she could find them. She didn’t fault her companions for that. She was grateful for their company, and was frankly astonished that they continued to follow her around... especially on this particular quest. Although having Bekkah with her... yes, that sometimes made the traveling, the lack of roots, the sense of jumping from one danger to another all seem less onerous.

But then, Bekkah had always seemed to make everything better. She’d had that gift long before she left for Lilia’s Castle to begin her studies with Lady Catherine.

And of course, with Morning Star beside her, solitude might be something she may never see again.

Still, the trip this far down the road into Montague lands had been necessary, at least for her. It had given Mikal the opportunity for closure, as well... if there could be such a thing. And to have his friends around him when doing something so deeply personal, something that was no doubt difficult, seemed appropriate.

And what was next? Daxia hadn’t quite grasped the enormity of what it meant to be a Wild Dayalan, though the fact that she’d likely spend very little time in Dawnview as the years cycled from Spring to Dry to Harvest to Storm time after time... well, it was starting to sink in. That knowledge wasn’t helping her.

If, as Gilly had said, the Unicorns keep us honest, Dazi thought, and part of that honesty is to keep going when all we want to do is give up... how do they manage that? How do they manage to keep us honest enough to keep going when doubt and despair fill our hearts and minds and souls? I suppose I’ll find out, won’t I?

She sighed and looked over at Mikal, then shrugged. “Back to Talantal, I suppose. I learned what I needed to learn.” Dazi looked down the road they’d so recently traveled. “Kadri’s betrothed asked if the kind Lady of Attera — his words, Bekkah — would visit his sickly brother and, in a rather round about way, asked if we’d rescue said brother. I suppose we could figure out how we’re going to pull that off.” She shrugged again. “I suspect the closer to Midsummer Council session Brother receives his visit, the easier the visit will go.”

Daxia looked at Dean and Bekkah. “Of all of us, you two will stand out the least in Talantal.” Grinning at Dean, she added, “Just as they’ll see only my red hair, sword and unicorn, all anyone will see is your fine surcoat marking you as a follower of Rames. Of course you’d belong in the greatest Imperial city this side of Trundle-on-the-Hill.” She looked around at the rest of her companions, gesturing to each in turn... nodding toward the barn where Cesare and Romana still waited. “Jvillians and Rhoni would not be remarkable, at least in the outer rings of the city, I would guess. Kay and I can join the Allaine delegation when it arrives.” She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “If it arrives, if Khorall Linnell doesn’t send Dandy alone in her stead again.” She just sighed. Kisa would talk her mother out of doing that two years in a row... wouldn’t she? “A good Hunter,” she said, nodding to Darian and Longtooth, “would be appreciated, I’d think. Kadri...” This time she rolled her eyes and smiled. “You’re a chameleon, Kadri. It wouldn’t surprise me if you became fast friends with Mikal’s horse’s namesake.”

Only when she looked back at the barn where Romana peeked out and at Jankin who was so quiet one could almost forget his presence that she frowned slightly. “About you and Romana, though,” she said to him, “I worry more. You’ve both proved yourselves to be capable and resourceful, and yet...” The Dayalan simply pressed her lips together tightly for a moment. “I hope you are not offended that I am concerned for your welfare.”

Cesare

Almost as if he knows he was being mentioned, the Rhoni appears in the doorway, first taking a look to make sure the men were out of sight.

"Breakfast is ready."

With his usual style of practical and few words, he turns and heads back into the barn.

Kadri:

"My only thought is ... Is it better to be Kadri djinn Khayriyah al'Terilanquel of Amber Born, or Kadri djinn Lisica al'Izgon? To hide by hiding or to hide by being obvious in not hiding?"