Oathbreaker

He returned just as Kethry completed her spell-casting; they tied one end around Jadrek's waist, then Kethry scrambled out of the window and down the wall to steady him from below as Tarma lowered him. Before they were finished, Tarma had a high respect for the man's courage; climbing down from the window put him in such pain that when they untied him they found he'd bitten his lip through to keep from crying out.

All their gear was still with the mares. When they'd left Hawksnest, they'd chosen to use a different kind of saddle than they normally chose, one meant for long rides and not pitched battles. Like the saddles Jodi preferred, these were little more than a pad with stirrups, although the pad extended out over the horse's rump. When Tarma carried Warrl pillion, he had a pad behind her battle-saddle to ride on; there was just enough room on the extended body of this saddle for him to do the same. So Kethry had no trouble fitting Jadrek in front of her, which was just as well -- Jadrek had mixed something with the last of his wine and gulped it down before attempting the window. He was fine, although still in pain, when they started saddling up. But by the time the mares were harnessed and all their gear was in place, he was fairly intoxicated and not at all steady.

They did manage to get him into the saddle, but it was obvious he wouldn't be staying there without Kethry's help.

Warrl? Tarma thought tentatively.

:All is well, mindmate,: came the reassuring reply. :There is no one in sight, and I am distracting the gate guards. If you go swiftly, there will be no one to stop or question you.:

'Let's move out now,' she told her partner, 'while Furface has the guards playing 'catch-me-if-you-can' with him.'

Kethry nodded; they rode out of the palace grounds as quietly -- they'd signaled the mares for silence, and now Hellsbane and Ironheart were moving as stealthily as only two Shin'a'in bred-and-trained warsteeds could. They managed to get out unchallenged, and waited outside the palace for Warrl to catch up with them, then put Ironheart and Hellsbane to as fast a pace as they dared, and by dawn were well clear of the city.

'Any sign of tracking?' Tarma asked her partner, reining Ironheart in beside her as they slowed to a brisk walk.

Kethry closed her eyes in concentration, extended a little tendril of energy along the road behind them, then shook her head. 'My guess would be that they haven't missed the spy yet. But my guess would also be, that with all the mages I sensed in Raschar's court, they'll be sending at least one with each pursuit party.'

'Anything you can do about that?'

'Some.' She reformed that tendril of energy into a deception-web that might confuse their backtrail. 'Listen, we need supplies; how about if I lay an illusion on you and 'Heart and you go buy us some at the next village we hit?'

'How about if you spell all three of us right now? Say -- old woman and her daughter and son? Nobody knows Shin'a'in battlemares out here, and 'Heart and 'Bane are ugly enough to belong to peasants: you needn't spell them.'

'Huh; not a bad thought. What about Warrl?'

:I can seem much smaller if I need to.:

Kethry started. 'Furface, I wish you wouldn't just speak into my mind like that -- you never used to!'

:My pardon. I grow forgetful of courtesy. How does the Wise One?:

Jadrek was three-quarters asleep, slumped forward in Kethry's hold, his head nodding to the rhythm of Hellsbane's hooves. Kethry touched his neck below his ear lightly enough not to disturb him. 'All right; his pulse is strong.'

:If you would have my advice?:

When the kyree tendered his opinion, it was worth having. 'Go ahead.'

:Rouse him up and make him speak with you. He will do his body more harm by riding unconscious.:

'On that subject,' Tarma interrupted, 'how long can you keep our illusions going? What kind of shape are you in?'

Kethry shrugged. 'I've been mostly resting my powers so far. I can keep the spell up indefinitely. Why?'

'Because I want to stay under roofs at night for as long as we can. Rough camping is going to be hard on our friend at best -- be a helluva note to save him from assassins and lose him to pneumonia.'

Kethry nodded, thinking of how much pain the Archivist was already in. 'What kind of roofs?'