would find the carter. I would ask him myself why he’d lied to the Royal Guard, why he’d set my brother up. And when I knew the answers, I would go to the capital and make them believe me. I fell into a daydream where Breyard and I walked free through the city streets, seeing the sights and laughing at the tales we would take home to our parents.
Sunrise found me on the road. Wearing heavy black leggings, a long-sleeved tan cotton tunic, and sturdy boots, all supplied by Kibee the night before, I’d ridden away from the retreat house before dawn. My pack was now slung across the back of the saddle, but later I would have to carry it.
The plan Oleeda and Kibee had devised seemed simple enough: I would deliver the horse on which I now rode to Gam, an important, well-respected trader in the village Duckbrook, not far from Roylinn—indeed, the first one Kibee and I had passed through the day before. This meant backtracking north almost the whole way I’d come with Kibee the day before, but it would put me near the woods where Breyard had released the baby dragon. It also meant that no one at the retreat house would question my absence for at least a week, since Oleeda would say that, desiring some time alone, she had given me permission to return on foot.
Once I found the dragon—and, despite my doubts, Oleeda continued to insist that this would be the easy part—I would head farther north towards the village of Crowthorne, where I would make contact with the chief mage of the region. Except, of course, that that’s not what I was going to do. I would send the dragon on to Crowthorne and then look to my own journey at that point. I had only a month to get to Penwick and I wasn’t going to waste any of that time with a dragon that, I felt sure, didn’t need my help.
For now, having set out several hours before dawn, I could enjoy watching the colors return to the landscape with the rising sun.
The miles fell away under the horse’s steady pace. Around midday, I stopped and dismounted at a place where a stream flowed near the road. The horse drank gratefully, then grazed while I ate some bread and cheese. Most of the food Kibee had supplied was the kind that wouldn’t spoil quickly—dried meat, dried fish, and dried fruit—and I was surprised at how much he’d fit into the pack. But he’d also put in some fresh food for the first day or so, and the simple meal tasted delicious in the open air.
After about half an hour, we headed out again. The horse’s mood seemed brighter, as if perhaps the early start had made him feel grumpy. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying traveling in the warm afternoon sunshine, with no thought of where I was going and why.
Well before nightfall, I arrived at Duckbrook. I twisted around in the saddle to pull Kibee’s hand-drawn map from the front pocket of my pack. The road took me straight into the village. Past the market square, I turned left. The way seemed to be little more than an alley but soon widened into a wagon track. I rode past brick houses and daub-and-wattle cottages, where children playing in the front gardens paused in their games to watch the stranger go by. The last house—my destination—was surrounded by a high wall. I dismounted at the gate and rang the bell.
After what seemed like a long time, light footsteps came crunching along what must be a gravel path, and the gate finally opened.
“Ah, there you are,” said a girl who looked about my age and was dressed in servant’s garb. “Mistress was beginning to think you’d never get here. Come along, then.”
I led the horse through the gate, wondering what the girl was talking about. I couldn’t possibly be expected.
“Boy’ll see to your horse,” she said as a lad approached.
“Wait, please. I need my things.” I fumbled with the straps, then clutched the pack to my chest. The boy led away the horse, who grumbled to me that he’d better be getting some good grain after the day’s
Sunrise found me on the road. Wearing heavy black leggings, a long-sleeved tan cotton tunic, and sturdy boots, all supplied by Kibee the night before, I’d ridden away from the retreat house before dawn. My pack was now slung across the back of the saddle, but later I would have to carry it.
The plan Oleeda and Kibee had devised seemed simple enough: I would deliver the horse on which I now rode to Gam, an important, well-respected trader in the village Duckbrook, not far from Roylinn—indeed, the first one Kibee and I had passed through the day before. This meant backtracking north almost the whole way I’d come with Kibee the day before, but it would put me near the woods where Breyard had released the baby dragon. It also meant that no one at the retreat house would question my absence for at least a week, since Oleeda would say that, desiring some time alone, she had given me permission to return on foot.
Once I found the dragon—and, despite my doubts, Oleeda continued to insist that this would be the easy part—I would head farther north towards the village of Crowthorne, where I would make contact with the chief mage of the region. Except, of course, that that’s not what I was going to do. I would send the dragon on to Crowthorne and then look to my own journey at that point. I had only a month to get to Penwick and I wasn’t going to waste any of that time with a dragon that, I felt sure, didn’t need my help.
For now, having set out several hours before dawn, I could enjoy watching the colors return to the landscape with the rising sun.
The miles fell away under the horse’s steady pace. Around midday, I stopped and dismounted at a place where a stream flowed near the road. The horse drank gratefully, then grazed while I ate some bread and cheese. Most of the food Kibee had supplied was the kind that wouldn’t spoil quickly—dried meat, dried fish, and dried fruit—and I was surprised at how much he’d fit into the pack. But he’d also put in some fresh food for the first day or so, and the simple meal tasted delicious in the open air.
After about half an hour, we headed out again. The horse’s mood seemed brighter, as if perhaps the early start had made him feel grumpy. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying traveling in the warm afternoon sunshine, with no thought of where I was going and why.
Well before nightfall, I arrived at Duckbrook. I twisted around in the saddle to pull Kibee’s hand-drawn map from the front pocket of my pack. The road took me straight into the village. Past the market square, I turned left. The way seemed to be little more than an alley but soon widened into a wagon track. I rode past brick houses and daub-and-wattle cottages, where children playing in the front gardens paused in their games to watch the stranger go by. The last house—my destination—was surrounded by a high wall. I dismounted at the gate and rang the bell.
After what seemed like a long time, light footsteps came crunching along what must be a gravel path, and the gate finally opened.
“Ah, there you are,” said a girl who looked about my age and was dressed in servant’s garb. “Mistress was beginning to think you’d never get here. Come along, then.”
I led the horse through the gate, wondering what the girl was talking about. I couldn’t possibly be expected.
“Boy’ll see to your horse,” she said as a lad approached.
“Wait, please. I need my things.” I fumbled with the straps, then clutched the pack to my chest. The boy led away the horse, who grumbled to me that he’d better be getting some good grain after the day’s
Similar Books
