She looked at Noran. 'Can you drive the wagon, or should I fetch one of the men?'
'I will do my best,' said Noran, though he knew he was an inexpert teamster. 'Rather that than risking the confidence of anyone else.'
They hurried out into the courtyard, the flags still damp from overnight rain. Noran let go of Meliu to move ahead and open one of the gates. On the road outside a single abada stood patiently before its wagon, chewing on its leather bit, horn rope in the hand of a boy no more than ten years old.
'Take these,' said Laasinia, ducking into a small storage shed at one side of the yard. She emerged with woven baskets. 'Put them on the wagon and climb in.'
'Try to act normal,' Noran added in a whisper. 'Do not look like you are hurrying.'
Meliu grinned impishly and grabbed a basket before strutting out into the street. Allenya and Laasinia followed with their own burdens, leaving Noran to pull himself up to the board.
'Get yourself inside, and have something to eat,' he called to the boy, who bobbed his head, tied the abada's rope through the yoke and scampered back into the yard.
The nobleman sat looking at the back of the abada, unsure what to do. He glanced around and saw a long switch hanging in a loop of rope on the side of the wagon. He pulled it free and tapped the abada on the shoulder with its tip.
'Move,' he said.
The abada did nothing.
Noran tried again with the switch, slapping it against the beast's hindquarters.
'Get on,' he said. 'Move!'
'Give it a proper crack,' he heard Allenya say from, the back of the cart. 'Use your wrist, man.'
'Right, you big, grey bastard,' Noran snarled. 'You will not ignore me this time.'
He brought the switch back over his shoulder and then flicked it down as hard as he could. With a crack, he smacked against the abada's ribs. The beast gave a pained snort and leaned into the yoke, the wagon lurching forward over the cobbles of the road. There were cries of discomfort from behind as the cart's occupants were bumped around and Noran almost fell off the driving board.
He snatched up the yoke ropes in his free hand as the abada settled down into a fast walk. The wheels clattered like thunderclaps in the dawn quiet. Noran winced every time they bounced over a hole or mound in the street. The grand houses of merchants and nobles passed by on each side, peeking over stuccoed walls and ornately carved gates.
They were almost at the end of the street when Noran realised he did not know which way to turn; or for that matter, how to turn. The quickest route would be to the right, along the main thoroughfare that wound down the Hill of Chiefs and to the avenue that led to the city gate. It would also be getting busy with the pre-market traffic; better to turn left and go around by the wall, he decided.
Coming to the junction, he hauled back on the left-hand rope, turning the abada's head. The creature came to a stop, the traces and harness bunching as the front of the wagon rolled into its rear end. Noran tugged to the left again, and applied the switch lightly to the stubborn creature's shoulder. The combination worked as the abada heaved into the yoke again, turning to the left.
A short distance and a more accomplished turn later and the wagon was moving along the muddy road that lined the outer wall of Magilnada. The wall loomed up on the right, various craft shops, tanneries and mills in its lee. Guards patrolled overhead, paying no attention to what was going on within the city.
'That was not so hard,' Noran said over his shoulder. 'We should be at the gate well before the ring of the next hour.'
'Just watch what you are doing,' Allenya replied. 'Keep an eye on the road.'
'Bloody women,' he muttered under his breath.
IV
The street was quickly filling with people, visible to Allenya through the opening in the back of the wagon. Most were traders, with baskets on their backs or pulling handcarts laden with their wares or tools. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to them. She sat on the boards of the cart leaning against the side, Laasinia beside her, Meliu opposite. Her sister had a wideeyed expression of excitement; no doubt imagining this dismal exit from Magilnada as part of some romantic adventure.
Picking at the hem of her rough dress, Allenya cursed herself for being so naive. Ullsaard had warned her against Anglhan's manipulation, but she had allowed herself to be talked into staying; she had all but volunteered to become a hostage. Luia would not have made the same mistake.
She turned her mind to other matters as soon as her thoughts tended towards the strange nature of Noran's recovery. It was best not to think about it too much. Instead, she focussed on her husband, happy to know that he was well. She pictured some of the best times they had shared, imagining their reunion, but try as she might, Allenya kept being drawn back into feelings of shame at the mess she had made of things. She had allowed herself to be manipulated and that had made Ullsaard vulnerable.
He was king now and she was a queen, and that entailed a different approach to life. Allenya and her sisters came from Askhan nobility, and there had always been an undercurrent of domestic politics; her world had changed and only now was she realising just how much.
She heard someone calling Noran's name from the street and tensed. Moving to the front of the cart, she tugged at a knotted rope and pulled a small gap in the covering. Peering through, she saw a man dressed in a fur- collared coat hurrying towards the wagon, a gaggle of servants behind.
'Hey!' he cried out. 'Hey Noran!'
'Who is he?' whispered Allenya. 'Ignore him'
Noran said nothing, snapping the switch against the abada to keep it moving. The stranger hurried through the puddles on the street and fell in beside the driving board. Allenya pulled back to avoid being seen but could still see the man through the parting in the awning. The man's face seemed familiar, but she could not place from where.
'Noran, it's Haastin, Haastin Kasvha!'
The name meant nothing either.
'You are mistaken,' growled Noran.
'No, surely not,' said Kasvha, laying a hand on the side of the cart as he walked alongside. 'Noran Aaluns, that's you. Everybody thought you were dead.'
'Not me,' Noran replied.
'Oh, I see, keeping out of the way, are you? All of those stories about you dashing off with Ullsaard and getting yourself killed are just a cover, eh?'
'You are mistaken,' said Noran, shifting uncomfortably.
'Look here, don't take me for an idiot,' barked Kasvha. 'I've had dealings with your father for years. Don't know why you're pretending not to know me, but it isn't flattering to you, let me say.'
Allenya heard Noran sigh and his body obscured her view as he leaned over.
'Look, take the hint,' snapped the nobleman. 'My business is my business!'
'Odd business it is too,' replied Kasvha. 'Don't you have men to drive carts for you? Fallen on hard times? Or is it something a bit more… clandestine. Come on, you can trust me.'
'Please go away,' insisted Noran. 'Look, people are starting to pay attention. I shall send you a letter, I promise.'
'A letter? I should be so favoured. I'm sorry to intrude.'
Noran sat up and Allenya saw Kasvha backing away, hands on hips. The cart trundled on for a short way before she heard Noran lean back to whisper.
'There were a couple of men that hared off up into the city as soon as my name was mentioned,' he said. 'It could be nothing, but I would rather not take chances.'
'What do you suggest?' replied Allenya. 'Should we leave the wagon?'
'That might be a good idea,' said Noran. 'I will keep an eye out for a yard to pull into.'
