Nath was watching out the window as she opened the door and sat herself down on the seat across from Práta. Nath quickly moved herself in beside Socair. Práta twisted her mouth for half a second and then looked out the window.
Práta spoke plainly, without looking to Socair. “What do you intend to do about the hippocamps?” There was an edge to her words.
“Nothing, unless they present themselves. Supposing the stories are true to begin with.”
“You think they are not?”
Socair sighed. “They may be. It may well be a band of raiders dressed in furs.”
Práta slapped the seat and looked across at Socair. “Are you so stupid?”
Nath clutched at Socair’s arm and buried her head behind it.
Socair could not meet her gaze. “We will discuss this in Theasín.”
Práta stared for nearly a minute without a word. “Fine.”
The ride was quiet and Práta made no more attempt to talk, even when Nath had fallen asleep. Socair looked at Práta so often as she could. She had hurt Práta, it was clear. There was nothing undiscussed between them in the past season, not until now. She would understand, Socair hoped.
The sky darkened and Theasín showed itself in the distance as they crested a hill. It sat across from them atop a small, flat mount. The hill and valley surrounding it were filled with light. Inns and taverns and homes and all the rest. The noise of the small city outside the walls could be heard even at a distance. Inside the walls, the tops of buildings could just be made out, with one standing above them. A sort of narrow pyramid of stacked rectangular structures that Socair reasoned must be the Regent’s keep.
Nath stirred as they moved down into the town, pushing her face against the window to take in the sights. The dim orange of the fires burning around Theasín cast a glow on the clouds that had gathered overhead. With the night coming it may be cold enough for snow if the weather failed them. She had planned to stop in Theasín regardless, but being stuck there was not among her plans. The Bastion City was a good deal farther north, yet. If the attacks across the north were true, Rianaire had no doubt barricaded herself in her city. Any Treorai would, it was only sensible.
Socair felt the carriage slow and stop. She could tell by the feel of things that they had not yet ascended the hill to the walls at Theasín’s city edge. They must still have been in the outskirts. Socair opened the door and Nath shifted behind her. Socair turned.
“No. You stay. It may be dangerous.”
She dropped out of the carriage and closed the door behind. Walking to the front, she called up to Rionn while looking ahead.
“What is it?”
“Troubling news, I expect.”
She could not see what he meant until she made it past the horses. The hill before her was scattered with parked carts and people milling about near them. There were fires among them, even in the middle of the streets.
“Fires take this trip. Can nothing go well?” She walked back and looked up to Rionn. “I will have Nath and Práta with me. The horses need rest and feed.”
“That they do. I don’t expect the carriage will make it beyond the walls. I’ll see to a stable.”
“Do you plan to join us after?”
“No,” he sighed, looking off at nothing. “I’ll sleep in the stablehouse. I prefer it. And with the streets as they are, I wouldn’t find myself too far from the carriage. Parked carts make for bold thieves. Expect the stablemaster will be glad to have me.”
“If not, he’s a fool.”
Rionn gave a forced, tiny smile and Socair saw to the door.
“We are on foot from here. The gates may be shut. It’s jammed the roads.”
Práta hopped down and went dutifully to gather bags. Nath followed her down and moved to Socair’s side.
“Keep close. There is little to worry about, but I won’t have you lost.” Socair smiled and Nath returned one.
The girl acted below her years. She could not be far past childhood, but it was sure she had an adult’s hair in the places she should. Beyond the physical, she comported herself much differently before they had taken her. She would need some help and Socair hoped to find it for her in Abhainnbaile upon their return.
Práta came next to them and Socair took a bag from her.
Socair tried to make her voice soft, apologetic. “We will talk, I promise it.”
They set off up the hill. The carts were primarily traders from the look of things. Men and women with their children. As they climbed, the carts and children became fewer and the milling elves became more numerous. The land flattened and Socair could hear shouting. The walls were tall above them and there were lights in each of the arrow loops. Over the heads of the elves, she could see the doors ahead of her were closed and guarded with pikemen. She turned to Práta.
“Wait here. You as well, Nath.”
The girl squealed a small protest but stood fast as Socair continued forward. The press of bodies grew and she pushed through them, gaining herself a few angry looks but none brave enough to challenge her. As she came to the front she found a half-circle of guards keeping the rabble back amid shouts of cruelty and neglect. It was always thus when gates were closed, moreso when people felt their lives were at risk. The stories must have been true. There were horsefolk in
