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Authors: Chris Anne Wolfe
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reason to rest.”
“Coramee, enough!”
Chagrined, Gwyn gave in with a gracious wave. “Do tell Bryana I tried.”
“I will,” Jes assured her. “But I’ve got a healer’s apprentice for all that. She stops by first thing in the morning and last thing at night. If you want to worry, worry about Sparrow and all that restless tossing and turning she’ll be doing tonight so far from her shadowmate. Or better yet, worry about Khirlan!”
The last comment sobered Gwyn all too quickly. Dejectedly her head went back against the embroidered cushion, and she turned a sightless stare towards the dim corners beyond the hearthside. After a moment she sighed. “Should I really wait for Brit, do you think?”
Startled, Jes glanced at her daughter. But Gwyn was still gazing at nothing. “Why do you ask?”
“She’s still working under the guise of the tinker-trades. The wagon and draft horses will slow us. The bartering at each village will detain us even more often. Instead of several ten-days, this will turn into more than a monarc of travel. It’s already late spring that far south. It’ll be summer there by the time we arrive in Khirla.”
“You’re concerned that the Clan will be controlling even more of the travel routes by then?”
“Closing them down — by the sound of it.”
“Still… you said you’re convinced there’s a traitor within the court itself.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?” Gwyn snapped back in irritation.
“No,” Jes amended softly. “I think you’re right. That’s why I’m also thinking you need Brit and Sparrow to help you with this.”
“Aye — as a Royal Marshal I’m too public a figure. I won’t hear half of what Brit will.”
“And Sparrow is quite adept at stealth-and-theft, Gwyn. I’ve seen her sneak into a Changlings’ camp and come out again with enough flint to replenish a whole patrol with fire kits and arrowheads. And she claims she’s even better in an urban setting — more shadows to blend in with, I guess.” Gwyn ruefully acknowledged her mother’s attempt at humor, but Jes saw she was far from convinced. “Gwyn’l, could you find such a traitor alone?”
Ril’s head came up sharply, lips curling in a silent snarl. Ty’s objection was more audible; an angry growl rose from her place at the door.
“Hush! Both of you,” Gwyn ordered. Yet she was more annoyed at herself and her personal limitations, so her voice gentled as she explained to her friends, “I’ll be in the Dracoon’s Court alone. Neither of you are very patient with human intrigues, and you know it.” Then to Jes, “And no, alone I will not find this basker jackal. Which would mean any party the Dracoon and I left the City with would be in danger of discovery — and ambush! — long before we gained any chance to negotiate anything!”
“Aye, but if your presence as Marshal were prominent enough, you’d certainly draw the attention away from simple troubadours and healers. Brit would be able to move about more freely, especially with Sparrow beside her. Sparrow’s obviously Southern blood will only reassure everyone that they really are on their way to the Desert Folk. And certainly, traveling with a Royal Marshal through Clan-infested areas has visible merit. Few would even question your arrival with them.”
“It would be better for us not to arrive together at all.”
“Then separate before you reach Khirla City. But Gwyn, remember in Khirlan — even before we knew of the worsening times — travelers have always been endangered by the Clan raiders. And none of you will do the Dracoon any good, if you never reach her.”
Gwyn sighed again, conceding the point. Besides, no matter how clever a Marshal could be — one person could only do so much. In another situation, she might have been able to offer a new perspective to alter the strategy in some useful way… and indeed usually that was a Marshal’s most effective role, to advise and reorganize. But with a
“Coramee, enough!”
Chagrined, Gwyn gave in with a gracious wave. “Do tell Bryana I tried.”
“I will,” Jes assured her. “But I’ve got a healer’s apprentice for all that. She stops by first thing in the morning and last thing at night. If you want to worry, worry about Sparrow and all that restless tossing and turning she’ll be doing tonight so far from her shadowmate. Or better yet, worry about Khirlan!”
The last comment sobered Gwyn all too quickly. Dejectedly her head went back against the embroidered cushion, and she turned a sightless stare towards the dim corners beyond the hearthside. After a moment she sighed. “Should I really wait for Brit, do you think?”
Startled, Jes glanced at her daughter. But Gwyn was still gazing at nothing. “Why do you ask?”
“She’s still working under the guise of the tinker-trades. The wagon and draft horses will slow us. The bartering at each village will detain us even more often. Instead of several ten-days, this will turn into more than a monarc of travel. It’s already late spring that far south. It’ll be summer there by the time we arrive in Khirla.”
“You’re concerned that the Clan will be controlling even more of the travel routes by then?”
“Closing them down — by the sound of it.”
“Still… you said you’re convinced there’s a traitor within the court itself.”
“You’re saying I’m wrong?” Gwyn snapped back in irritation.
“No,” Jes amended softly. “I think you’re right. That’s why I’m also thinking you need Brit and Sparrow to help you with this.”
“Aye — as a Royal Marshal I’m too public a figure. I won’t hear half of what Brit will.”
“And Sparrow is quite adept at stealth-and-theft, Gwyn. I’ve seen her sneak into a Changlings’ camp and come out again with enough flint to replenish a whole patrol with fire kits and arrowheads. And she claims she’s even better in an urban setting — more shadows to blend in with, I guess.” Gwyn ruefully acknowledged her mother’s attempt at humor, but Jes saw she was far from convinced. “Gwyn’l, could you find such a traitor alone?”
Ril’s head came up sharply, lips curling in a silent snarl. Ty’s objection was more audible; an angry growl rose from her place at the door.
“Hush! Both of you,” Gwyn ordered. Yet she was more annoyed at herself and her personal limitations, so her voice gentled as she explained to her friends, “I’ll be in the Dracoon’s Court alone. Neither of you are very patient with human intrigues, and you know it.” Then to Jes, “And no, alone I will not find this basker jackal. Which would mean any party the Dracoon and I left the City with would be in danger of discovery — and ambush! — long before we gained any chance to negotiate anything!”
“Aye, but if your presence as Marshal were prominent enough, you’d certainly draw the attention away from simple troubadours and healers. Brit would be able to move about more freely, especially with Sparrow beside her. Sparrow’s obviously Southern blood will only reassure everyone that they really are on their way to the Desert Folk. And certainly, traveling with a Royal Marshal through Clan-infested areas has visible merit. Few would even question your arrival with them.”
“It would be better for us not to arrive together at all.”
“Then separate before you reach Khirla City. But Gwyn, remember in Khirlan — even before we knew of the worsening times — travelers have always been endangered by the Clan raiders. And none of you will do the Dracoon any good, if you never reach her.”
Gwyn sighed again, conceding the point. Besides, no matter how clever a Marshal could be — one person could only do so much. In another situation, she might have been able to offer a new perspective to alter the strategy in some useful way… and indeed usually that was a Marshal’s most effective role, to advise and reorganize. But with a
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