breakfast?”
“Bread. We’ll try that half-cheese, too.” They divided the small cheese and each took a slice of bread from the half a loaf left the night before. That took the edge off their hunger, though Paks felt she could have eaten much more. Saben managed to fit the eggs into the pack this time. “Let’s go,” said Canna abruptly. Paks and Saben looked at her, surprised, but rose at once.
The morning was still and gray, with a murkiness between the trees that was not quite fog. They stayed close to the road, but Canna would not let them walk in it, fearing a forward patrol. They walked in silence, three dark shadows among the black tree-trunks. Canna set a better pace than the evening before. When she finally called a halt, they moved away from the road and stretched out under a large cedar.
Saben wiggled his shoulders. “Ugh. That pack—the straps are too short. He must have been a skinny man.”
“I’ll take it next,” offered Paks.
“You’re not a skinny man.”
“No, but it’ll get the cramps out of your shoulders.”
“I wish I’d found a weapon,” he grumbled. “A bow, or a sword—”
“We’re better without it,” said Canna.
“How so?”
“If you’d found one, you’d be tempted to fight, wouldn’t you? You’d want to kill one of their scouts to get still more weapons—then free the prisoners—” Saben was blushing, now, and Canna nodded before going on. “There’s not a weapon in the world, Saben, that would let you take on that force single-handed and survive. Our job is to get word to the Duke. For that we need wit, not blades.”
“Yes, Canna. But think how much fun—”
“If we get to the Duke,” said Canna grimly, “we can have all the fun we want—with weapons he’ll give us.” Saben subsided. Paks wondered again if it was as bad as Canna seemed to think.
“When the column does come,” she asked, “how are we going to move with it without being seen? The woods don’t last all the way to Rotengre.”
“You would ask that. I’ve been trying to remember what the country is like. We can use any trees—hedges —and if it’s dry, they’ll raise a cloud; we can stay far off and still be sure where they are. But it’s going to be hard.”
“I was thinking—surely they’ll take the short way, east of Sorellin. Why can’t we just go straight for the Duke?”
“We can’t be sure. Siniava has a name for being indirect.”
“You mean he might go around in a circle, or something—?”
“Yes. Find a weak spot in the siege lines, and try to break it there.”
“But then what does he want prisoners for? They’ll only get in the way.”
“I don’t know. Some wickedness.” Canna took a swallow of water. “I wish I knew how close we were to the crossroad.”
“Why?” asked Paks. “We’ll find it if we stay near the road.”
“If I were the Honeycat,” said Canna slowly, “I’d have someone posted at the crossroads.”
“But we’re well ahead of the forward patrols,” said Saben.
“That’s exactly what I’d want stragglers to think,” replied Canna. “If someone got through the sweeps and patrols, they’d think they were safe, and they’d be careless. Besides, suppose the Duke sent a courier for some reason—Siniava would have to stop that. So I think we can expect trouble—at every crossroad, and every place a messenger or straggler would be tempted to use the road. Probably disguised as traders, or brigands, or something, to keep the peasants from gossiping too much.”
“How do we get around them, then?” asked Paks.
Canna shrugged. “They don’t
After a scant ration of bread, they set off again. Canna forbade any talking until they cleared the crossroad, and they moved as quietly as they could. The road wound back and forth around low rounded hummocks; Paks found it hard to keep an even distance from it.
From far behind came a long low horn call. They stopped and looked at each other. In such cold air, a horn would carry a great distance. Three short blasts of a higher-pitched horn came from the road ahead. This sounded closer than the other, but distance was impossible to judge. Canna nodded at the other two and grinned. She gestured them still farther from the road, and forward. Paks felt her heart begin to pound, drumming in her ears so that she could hardly hear. This would be the real test, getting past the guard at the crossroad. She looked at Canna, who was still moving strongly, and stumbled over a briar. Calm down, she told herself. Saben and Canna gave her a warning glance and went on.
As the road began a curve right, Canna signalled a halt. She beckoned them close, then murmured in their ears. “I think they’re on top of the rise ahead—see how open the woods look up there? They could see the road and the woods both. We’ll swing around the far side of the hill. Be careful. No stumbling about.” Paks blushed.
They turned left along the slope, climbing no higher. As they moved away from the road, the woods thickened, and undergrowth screened them. They could not see more than a few yards uphill. More evergreens cloaked the northern slope. It was easy to walk quietly on the fallen needles, and they moved faster. Still, several hours of tense and tedious work brought them only to the eastern end of that hill, and a low saddle between it and the next rise to the east. As they came up the saddle, the trees thinned again.
Canna waved them down, then peered upslope. Paks looked too, and saw nothing. Trees masked the higher slope and crown. For a second time, they heard the long horn call. This time it seemed closer, hardly north of the hill. At once two short blasts rang out upslope. Clearly Canna had been right about the location of the watch. They crept through the trees, keeping every possible leaf between them and the upper slope as they cleared the saddle. Now they could see, at the foot of a gentle slope, a broad rutted road running east and west. It disappeared behind a south-jutting face of the hill between them and the crossroad.
When they reached the road, Canna stopped them. “I’ll cross first,” she said. “If anything happens, go east another hill, then head south. Don’t come back for me; go to the Duke. If nothing happens, count twenty, then Paks comes. Then twenty again, and Saben. No noise, and get to cover fast on the other side. May Gird be with us.” Canna turned away, crept to the very edge of the road, and looked. Nothing. Still bent low, she scurried across and dived into bushes on the far side. Paks counted on her fingers to be sure not to skip any; when she had counted twice over, she checked the road and ran across. Once in cover, she turned to watch for Saben. He crossed the road safely, and the three of them moved to deeper cover under the trees.
Canna swung right, back toward the south road, cutting the corner. They had covered what Paks guessed to be half that distance when they began to hear shouts, the clatter of horses, and the rumble of wagons from their right. Suddenly a thrashing and crackling of undergrowth broke out behind. They dropped where they were. Thudding hooves pounded nearer; Paks could hear the jingle and creak of tack and armor. This time the mounted men were silent. They were spaced in easy sight of one another, passing on either side of the fugitives. Paks saw the hooves of one horse churning the leaves scarcely a length from her face. As the horse cantered on, she saw that the rider had a chain-mail shirt under a yellow surcoat, and a flat helmet with a brim. He had a sword at his side, and a short-thonged whip thrust into his belt behind.
When the hoofbeats died away, Canna urged them up and led them back east. “We know how far out he sends the sweeps, now,” she said. “But without seeing the column, we don’t know if these were the forward or the flank.”
“At least we know he’s going south,” said Paks.
“How about one of us going in for a closer look?” asked Saben.
Canna frowned. “It’ll be dangerous. I think we can do better. We’ll climb the next hill on our side, and take a look from a distance. As long as we stay outside the sweeps—” They walked on, more quickly, in case another patrol was riding behind. The ground rose under their feet; again they were in the evergreens of a north slope. They toiled upward, panting. Paks felt the pack of food dragging at her shoulder, and wished they could stop and eat. They heard more noise from the road. A mounting excitement seized all three of them; they began to hurry up the slope, eager to see the enemy column at last.
Paks, shouldering her way through thick pines and cedars, thought only of how they hid her. When she broke
