Magic's Promise

'What's it look like I'm doing?' he demanded, throwing her blanket over her, then pulling down the saddle itself. 'I'll have you saddled in half a moment. Where is this?'

:Lineas. Highjorune :

'The Linean throne-seat.' He made a quick check of his mental maps. 'That's relatively near our Border. Can we be there by dawn? “

:Before: All her attention was back on the West.

'Good, because I have the feeling what we're about to do isn't legal, at least by Linean standards, and I'd rather not break laws while people are awake to catch me. Kellan!'

A stamp and a whicker told him that Savil's Companion had heard him.

'Get Savil awake and tell her what we know and where we're going. And why.'

Snort of agreement.

' 'Fandes, wait a minute, I'd better change.' He began stripping his clothing off, cursing the laces that wouldn't come undone, and snapping them when he realized how much time this was taking.

She swung her head around to stare at him frantically. :We can't afford the time!:

'We can't afford not to take the time,' he said reasonably. 'Think about it, love. I had damn well better be in uniform. Even the Lineans will think twice about stopping a Valdemar Herald, but a man on a white horse won't rate that second thought. I am something less than fond of being a target, even a moving one.' He rummaged in the saddlebags, coming up with a slightly crumpled set of Whites. 'Thought I left those here. Thank the gods for battle-line habits.' He shrugged on the breeches and tunic and belted them tight; pulled on the boots he'd pulled off when he'd wormed into his blankets. 'Good thing I've only got the one pair of boots. Damn, I wish I'd thought to leave a sword here.'

:Meke left one in the tack bin by the stud.:

'Bless you -'

He vaulted the railings to fetch it; it was not a good blade, but it was serviceable. He strapped it and his long dagger on, inserted the short ones into their pockets in his boots.

His cloak-he looked for it quickly; he'd need it out there. There it was, half tangled with the blankets. He pulled it out of the tangle, shook it out, flung it over his shoulders, fastened the throat-latch, and returned to the task of harnessing Yfandes. He swung the saddle onto her back, gave a quick pull of the cinch, got chest- and rump-bands buckled and snugged in - she was ready.

He snatched her hackamore off its peg and tossed it over her head; he mounted while she shook it into place as the bells on it jangled madly. She booted the bottom of the door into the paddock open with her nose while he grabbed for the reins and brought them over her neck, and then with a leap a wild deer would envy she was off into the darkness.

Seven

Gods, it's like another Border-alert. Though Yfandes was frantic with the call in her mind, Vanyel kept his wits about him and reached out with a finger of power to snuff the lantern as they cleared the stable-door.

Yfandes raced across the black-velvet of the paddock, hooves pounding dully on the turf, uncannily surefooted in all the moon-cast, dancing shadows. He'd forgotten for a moment that their path out was going to be blocked. He glanced ahead barely in time to see the fence at the far end coming at them and set himself instinctively when he felt her gather under him. They flew over the bars and landed with a jar that drove his teeth together and threw him against the pommel of the saddle. He fought himself back into balance and felt her begin to hesitate in mid- stride.

:Van?:

He clenched his teeth and wrenched himself into place. :Just go - I'm fine.:

She stretched out flat to the ground and ran with all the heart that was in her. Vanyel pulled himself down as close to the level of her outstretched neck as he could, kept his silhouette low and clean, and balanced his weight just behind her shoulders where she could carry it easiest. And fed her with his power.

No one except another Herald could know how exhausting 'just riding' could be, especially on a ride like this.