'Is this like last time's private—where you shouted loudly enough that this half of the caravan lost most of their hearing for the next two weeks?'
'Very funny.' She scowled, grabbed his arm, grabbed
her packs, and nodded frantic directions to Carris. It all came together somehow, and they made their way to the wagon that David called home while he was recruiting.
'Well?'
'Carris is a Herald,' she said, dispensing with pretense and bluster—although the latter was hard to get rid of. 'His partner's dead, his Companion's injured, and he's got a message that he's got to get to the capital as fast as possible. He can't ride—don't argue with me, Carris, you heard what the doctor said—and he's being hunted.'
'Hunted by who?'
'He can't say.'
'I can't hire him, then.'
'David—he's a Herald.'
'That doesn't mean the same thing to me as it means to you,' David replied. 'Look—the people who hunt the type of guards I hire are cutthroats that I know how to deal with. The people who hunt a Herald . . .'
'David!' She reached out, grabbed the front of his surcoat, bunched it into two fists and pulled. Even Carris recoiled slightly at the intensity of her tone. 'You-are-going-to-hire-us-both.'
He raised a brow, not in the least put out. 'Or?'
'Or I will tell Sharra about the time that—'
He lifted both of his hands in mock surrender, and than his expression grew graver. 'Is it that important, Kelse?'
'More. Trust me. We need you.'
'All right. Let go of my surcoat and pray that the entire encampment didn't just hear that. I'll take Carris on, —but we've got to strap a shield to that shoulder.'
'Can't you just say he was injured in the line of duty?'
'Sure. But who's going to ask me? Most of the guards here are the same as I started with, and they'll know he's a stranger if they're asked. We've hired five men here, and he'll just be another one of those—but he's got to look the part, even if he's not going to act it. Clear?'
She said something extremely rude. 'Yes. Clear.'
'Good.'
'Captain?' Carris said softly. 'What?' 'Thank you.'
'Don't. Thank her. I owe her, and it's about time she started calling in her debt.'
'I hope you appreciate this,' Kelsey said to Carris as they set up their tents. Her hands were stiff and chapped, and she was busy nursing a blister caused by peeling carrots and potatoes for a small army. When he didn't answer, she looked across the fire.
'What's wrong?'
'It's Arana,' he replied at last, weighing his words. 'You travel for this long with a—a very dear friend, and you really notice when she's gone.'
'You aren't used to being separated?'
'No. I'm used to being able to hear her no matter where I am.' He was quiet, and she let the silence stretch between them, wondering when he would break it. Fifteen minutes later, she realized he wasn't going to.
'Is it everything they say it is?'
'Pardon?'
'Being a Herald. Having a Companion. Is it everything it's cracked up to be?'
He smiled. 'It's harder than I ever imagined,' he replied, leaning back on his elbows, and then wincing and shifting his weight rapidly. 'And it's the most rewarding thing I could ever dream of doing.' He laughed, and the laugh was self-deprecating. 'It wasn't what I'd intended to do with my life—and both of my parents are still rather upset about it, since it significantly shifts the family hierarchy.'
'Do you know why you were Chosen?'
'Me?' He laughed again. 'No. If I had to Choose, I'd be the last person I'd ask to defend the kingdom with his life.' He sobered suddenly. Rose. 'Kelsey, I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done, and I know that leaving you to the campfire alone isn't the way to start.'
She waved him off. 'Everyone needs a little space for grief,' she told him firmly. 'Even a Herald. Especially a Herald.'
But after he was gone, she stared at the fire pensively. By his own admission he'd done nothing to be considered a worthy candidate—why had he become a Herald? Why had he been Chosen?
'You look awful,' David said, as he ducked a flying handful of potato rinds.
'I didn't sleep very well,' she replied. 'Are you here to annoy me, or should I just assume that you already have?'
He laughed. 'I wanted to see how you were faring. The caravan's got a few extra mouths this time round; if I was going to choose KP, I wouldn't have done it for this stretch of the route.'
'Thanks for the warning,' she said, and heaved another handful of rinds. Then she wiped her hands on her trousers, set her knife aside, and stood. 'Why is the caravan so bloody big this time?'
'It's well guarded,' David replied, lowering his voice. 'Well guarded. We've done our buying for the season, and we're doing our damned best to protect our investment.'
'How bad has it been? We'd heard rumors that—'
'It's been bad.' His face lost all traces of its normal good humor. 'If you hadn't insisted, Kelse, I wouldn't have taken your friend on. There's a very good chance he'll get to see action whether he's up to it or not.'
'Oh.' She blew a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. 'Is there some sort of drill?'
'Meaning?'
'What should the noncombatants do if the caravan is attacked?' She waited for a minute. 'Look, stop staring at me as if I've grown an extra head and answer my question.'
'Well,' he replied, scratching his jaw, 'if I were in that position, I'd probably hide under the wagons.'
Great. 'If I'd wanted an answer that unreal, I'd have asked a Bard.' She picked up her knife and went back to potatoes, carrots, and onions. Onions. That was the other thing she was going to have to find a way around.
Carris took to taking it easy about as well as a duck takes to fire. He was grim-faced and impatient, and he watched the road and the surrounding wooded hills like a starving hawk. David had decided that the best watch for Carris was the night watch; under the cover of shadow and orange firelight, he could pass for a reasonably whole guard. He carried his sword and his bow— although Kelsey pointed out time and again that the bow was so useless it was just added encumbrance—and wore a shield that had been strapped to his front as well as possible given the circumstances.
What he did not do well was blend in with the rest of the guards. It was his language, Kelsey reflected, as she listened to him speak. He didn't have the right cadence for someone who had fallen into the life of a caravan guard. Never mind cadence, she thought, as she dove into the middle of a conversation and pulled him out— whole—he didn't have the vocabulary, the tone, the posture. He did, having been on the road without being able to shave himself, have the right look.
'Stop being so nervous,' she said, catching his good arm in hers and wandering slightly away from the front of the caravan.
'Kelsey, do you know what this caravan is carrying?'
'Nope. And I don't want to.'
'Well, I do. We're going to see action, and I can't afford to see it and not escape it alive. We've lost four Heralds to this investigation, not including Lyris, and we'll lose more if I don't get word back.'
'We'll get word back,' she said, assuring him. But she felt a twinge of unease when she finally left him. Dammit, he's even got me spooked. She went to her pack, found her bat, hooked it under her left arm, and walked quickly back to her place among the cook's staff.
* * *
'What is that?' A familiar voice said.
'Don't ask her that.' Marrit, the older woman who supervised the cooking, looked a tad harried as she glared
