Lark and Wren

Rune's stomach heaved. 'You know,' she said conversationally to Kestrel, as they neared the border-post at the edge of the fens, 'if I didn't like you so much, I think I'd have left you back in the mud with that copper charm and saved myself this.'

Heat pressed her down and humidity made her head ache. The ever-present reek of the marsh permeated everything. Gnats and midges buzzed in annoying clouds around her head, but thanks to the thick, sticky herb-juice the Gypsies had given them, neither landed nor bit. But the juice itself had a bitter, unpleasant smell, and that added to her misery. The sun glared down through a thick heat-haze, making the road shimmer and dance.

After much trial and error, she and Talaysen had worked out the counter to the magic of the talisman. Comprised of notes they felt more than heard, it only made them slightly ill to work. Just enough that Rune refused to eat anything this morning, since they were going to have to cross the border before noon. She hadn't wanted anything in her stomach, and right now she was chewing a sprig of mint in the vain hope that it would settle her rebellious insides.

Sional grimaced. 'I'd d-do it m-myself, but I'm not g-good enough yet.' He held out his hands and shrugged. 'I w-wish I w-was.'

'Oh, don't worry about it,' she replied, closing her eyes to subdue another surge of nausea. 'Besides, if I'd dumped you in the mud, Robin would have gone back after you, and then we'd have gotten to smell fen-stink until we cleaned you up.'

As she opened her eyes, she saw him flush and turn away, and smiled in spite of her roiling stomach. Robin was in love with Kestrel, and he was returning her feelings with interest. How long it would last, she had no idea.

Nor did she know whether it would survive the kinds of pressures put on a would-be King. . . .

Worry about that if we get there, she told herself firmly. We have enough trouble to handle right now.

One problem they did not have to worry about was whether Sional would be recognized from a physical description. Anyone looking for Jonny Brede as he had last appeared would never see him in this young man. Regular meals and hauling the wagon out of soft spots in the road through the fens had put a lot of muscle on him, and the sun had tanned him as dark as any Gypsy. In clothing given by some of the younger men and his long hair tied back in a tail, he didn't look much like Jonny Brede, and even less like a prince.

The border-station grew from a dot at the end of the long, straight causeway, to a tiny blob of brown, to a doll's house with doll-guards, to something her eyes would accept as a building. This flat expanse of fen was disorienting to someone used to forested hills. There were no trees, no points of reference-just an endless sea of man-high grass stretching in either direction. Forever, as far as eyes could determine.

The border-guards had plenty of time to see them coming and take up their stations in a leisurely manner. No surprise inspections at this post, assuming anyone ever bothered inspecting at all. And if there should ever be hostilities between Rayden and Birnam, it was improbable that anyone would ever try to bring an army along this way.

She would not have been at all surprised to see that the guards were slack and slovenly, but in fact, they were the very opposite. Brisk, business-like, they did a brief inspection of the wagon and the occupants and sent them on their way. In fact, there were only two jarring notes.

The first was that they were plainly looking for someone. The serjeant in charge consulted a piece of paper and kept glancing from it to them, as if comparing them with a set of notes.

The second was that one of the men did not come out at all. Rune caught a glimpse of him in the doorway; he was not wearing a uniform of Birnam's soldiers, and she thought she saw a glimpse of copper in his hand-and that was when she thought she heard a bit of that unsettling drone that came from the seeking-charm. She increased the humming that rattled her teeth unpleasantly and made her stomach churn, and concentrated very hard on creating a barrier between Kestrel and the rest of the world.

Finally the inspection was over, and the man she'd seen moved to the door again, just long enough to shake his head at the serjeant. She didn't get a good look at him, but she thought he had a face that was so ordinary that the fact in itself was remarkable. And it occurred to her that if she was creating a disguise, that was precisely how she would go about doing so.

It wasn't until after they were out of sight of the guard-house that she stopped her humming and dropped her magical defenses. By then, they were nearing the end of the causeway, and in the distance there was a haze of green that marked the blessed presence of trees.

Gwyna fanned herself with her hat, her hair curling from the heat and damp. 'Blessed Lady, no wonder no one comes this way,' she said faintly. 'It's fall, for heaven's sake! Doesn't it ever cool off in there?'

'All that shallow water holds heat very well, Robin,' Talaysen said from his place on the driver's bench. 'The damp air makes it seem worse than it is. Just be glad we had that juice Vixen made up to rub on us, or we'd have been eaten alive by insects, and the mules with us.'

'I want a bath,' Rune said, sick to death of feeling sticky and hot. 'I want a bath, and fresh food, and I don't want to have to hum that Shielding spell again. Or at least, not for a while.'

Kestrel, silent until now, roused at that. 'D-did you s-see the s-s-sorcerer? The one in the guardhouse?'

'I did,' she replied grimly. 'And he was looking for you. For us. He didn't catch that we were what he was looking for, though.'

'We hope,' Talaysen replied pessimistically.

Kestrel shook his head. 'He d-didn't. Th-they w-wouldn't have l-let us by. Th-they'd have k-killed us.'

'True, oh doubting Wren,' Gwyna said. 'They haven't hesitated for a moment, before this, even when Kestrel was nothing more than a harmless boy. They would have had no reason to hesitate now, and every reason to cut all four of us down. After all, who'd miss a few Gypsies?'

Talaysen's shoulders relaxed. 'You're right,' he admitted. 'I probably worry too much. I think of all the sneaking things I might try, then assume someone else would do the same things I would. But there's no reason for them to let us into Birnam to kill us, when they could kill us with impunity anywhere.'

'Well, the first hurdle is passed,' Rune told him. 'We're in Birnam. Now what?'