Thank you, Idalia.
Kellen picked up the lantern and the basket and went to find the animals and Shalkan.
'I wondered how long it would take you to figure things out,' the unicorn said when he arrived.
'You could have told me,' Kellen grumbled, setting the basket down and hooking the lantern over the stub of a branch. The horse and the mule dozed placidly nearby.
'You might have said that the girls would be'—he felt himself blushing—'well, frisky. Especially Merana.'
'Where's the fun in that?' Shalkan asked. 'This was an easy one, and I was nearby to warn you if necessary. There may be others that aren't as obvious, and I might not be around for them.'
'So I'm supposed to consider this a learning experience?' Kellen asked, spreading the cloak on the ground and beginning to unpack the basket.
'Are those honey-cakes I smell?' Shalkan responded eagerly.
IT was very late—or very early—by the time that Kellen, carrying the empty basket and leading the two animals on their halters, returned to the clearing. The chill had turned to cold, but he'd been more than warm enough in the cloak. He was young enough to think a night without sleep to be a grand prelude to a long day's ride, and in fact he'd even dozed for a few hours before Shalkan had nudged him awake. It was still dark, but it would be dawn in an hour or two, and he knew that Idalia wanted to be on the road as soon as there was light to see by. There was a hint of fog in the air, and a suggestion that in a day or two, there might be rain.
The canopies and garlands were all still there—they, like the cabin itself, would be removed over the coming days and taken elsewhere. The clearing was quiet, if not silent, and far from empty; though most of the partyers had gone home or off to nearby villages there were still a few late revelers remaining, sitting and lying in twos and threes and fours, some sleeping, some talking together in quiet contented tones.
Kellen stopped to tie the animals to a tree, then walked into the clearing. Almost at the cabin door, Kellen passed a tangle of sleeping fauns. They smelled strongly of mead, and some kind soul had rolled them into a cloak. As he watched they squirmed over one another, as blissfully indifferent to their surroundings as a basketful of puppies.
He turned and walked into the cabin.
Just as he suspected, Idalia was already up and dressed, but in clothes he'd never seen before. Gone was the woodland ranger dressed in beaded buckskin, horn, and feathers: the boots and tunic, cloak and breeks Idalia wore now would have looked unremarkable anywhere from the High Reaches to the gates of Armethalieh herself: sturdy wool cloth, dyed with indigo and butternut, sturdy leather riding boots with hard soles and stacked heels to hold the stirrups, with a wide felt hat to shade her eyes and face from wind and weather… Idalia looked like a stranger.
She glanced over at his entrance, and saw his startlement, and smiled crookedly. 'Quite a different look for me, isn't it? There's a set for you, too. It's what they wear in the High Hills; that Mountain Trader I bought Prettyfoot from felt guilty about his good fortune and threw in a few trade gifts, and then I did a little tailoring. We have a lot of territory to ride through, and we won't stand out as much this way. The boots I ordered in Merryvale; when you're running, it's always a good idea to have boots you can trust. Go ahead; I'll start getting the beasties ready.'
She picked up an armful of saddlepads and blankets and walked out. Kellen went on into the empty room that had once been the bedroom.
The shutters were closed and pegged now, and the room seemed close and airless, but a fat candle stuck in a wall sconce gave sufficient light for Kellen to see what he was doing. A similar set of traveling clothes were laid out for him: cloak and gloves, too.
After spending so many sennights in supple buckskin, wool and homespun were scratchy and harsh against his skin, and the new clothes itched. Kellen sighed, stamping his feet into the boots. He only hoped it wouldn't be too hard to get used to them after wearing moccasins for so long.
But at last he was dressed, and there was no more point to delaying. He even spared a moment to wish for a mirror to see himself in, though he knew all he'd get would be a shock.
He pushed aside the deerskin curtain and stepped back out into the main room, his new cloak folded over one arm. Idalia thrust a comb into his hand.
'Comb your hair out, and braid it, or tie it back. You won't want to be combing knots and twigs and heaven knows what else out of it at the end of the day,' she said, brushing past him to get at Coalwind's saddle and bridle.
Kellen started in on his hair, and discovered to his dismay that there were knots and twigs in it now. But he managed to drag the comb all the way through it at least once, and then discovered that in one of the pockets of his new breeks was a long leather tie-band, ornamented with some of Idalia's careful beadwork. So they wouldn't be leaving the Wildwood completely behind! He looped it around his unruly hair, then picked up the heavy wooden packsaddle, and followed Idalia outside.
