“It shows where there was a house. It might be empty or fallen in or even disappeared.”
Precious Wind nodded, thanked her, and returned the maps to their proper folders in the proper drawers. She had mentally marked three possibilities that met her criteria as to distance and location. She chose to take the hop-skip they had driven from Woldsgard. It was a vehicle that could be drawn easily by one horse on the level, but she felt two, hitched tandem, would be better for hills. Though quite small, the hop-skip was large enough to carry a significant load of supplies: a small tent, blankets, food, some oats for the horses, water bottles, and her saddle. She might need a saddle; there were places a wheeled vehicle could not go. Willum and Clive had modified the harness so it could be either a single or tandem hitch. Two horses would be better, in case one might grow lame.
She supplied the little carriage and made a tearful farewell to Oldwife Gancer and Nettie. Though Nettie had been happily surprised to find Aunt Belika both able and willing to forgive old arguments and joyous to have a niece, she still considered Precious Wind a good friend and was sad at her leaving.
“When I find Xulai, Oldwife, I’ll send you a message; I’m taking some pigeons from the abbey. I’ll be able to let you know that she’s well. You know she has to return to Tingawa.”
“It’s just, since she’s gone, and now you’re going, I’d like to go home,” said Oldwife.
“To Woldsgard?” This should not have surprised Precious Wind, but it did. It was a loose end she had not thought of.
Oldwife had her reasons. “To my little house there, yes. To my kinfolk. And the men, they’d like to go, too. Bartelmy was telling me. Probably Nettie as well, though I’m not sure.”
Precious Wind shrugged mentally. This would only take a day or so more before she could leave, and it had to be done. These people were her family as well as Xulai’s. She hugged the old woman, saying, “There’s no reason you shouldn’t go. I’ll talk to the men now. They may want to leave some of the furnishings here, no reason to labor taking them back. They have the dray, the company-trot, and the wagon. All the horses and mules are still here except the two I’m taking and except for a few up-and-down miles north of the abbey, it’s all downhill from here until you reach the Woldsroad. Xulai’s horse should go back to Woldsgard. When she returns, that’s where she’ll go. It was home for her.”
Oldwife broke into tears. “It was home for her. I heard her . . . her . . . the duke telling her he was sending her home and I saw her poor little face. Poor thing. Where did he go, do you think?”
“None of us know, Oldwife. He wasn’t going to endanger anyone by telling them where he was going or if he would ever come back. But there’s no reason you and the men shouldn’t go home. The man here has pigeons for Woldsgard. I’ll send Hallad, Prince Orez, a message saying you’d like to come home. He may even send an escort for you.”
This new complication did take another day, as she had to wait for the librarian and the abbot and the other people in their party to return from their tour of inspection out and around the South Watch Tower. Upon their return, they learned from the prior’s servant that his master was very ill.
Precious Wind arranged a meeting with Wordswell that night, hoping she could tie all the loose ends into one bundle and place it in his lap.
“They say the prior’s ill,” said Wordswell. “Do you think he is seriously ill?”
“I think he’ll die,” said Precious Wind. “Probably in a few days.”
“How very sad,” said the librarian. “Will anyone here particularly miss him?”
“If I were you, I’d pay particular attention to anyone who does,” she said, handing him the list she and the Woldsgard men had compiled. “The men listed here will probably miss the pay he’s been giving them to do murder and mayhem. It’s possible there are others, but we doubt it. Might be a good idea if this bunch went somewhere else for a while. And maybe didn’t come back.”
“And the three who followed you?”
“They haven’t returned. It’s not unusual for that kind of men to disappear rather than confront the anger of the person who sent them.”
“Really.” He regarded her with something like awe.
Precious Wind nodded. “It has been known to happen, yes. I have one more burden to place upon you. Oldwife Gancer, possibly Nettie Lean, and certainly the men from Woldsgard would like to go home. Actually, Bartelmy would probably like to go hunting for Xulai, but it’s best he not do so. He was sweet to her when he thought she was a child, as little maids and men sometimes are, but nothing can come of it, so best he go home and find himself another sweetheart. He’s a lovesome boy and will not want for takers. So, I’d like you to send a message to Hallad, Prince Orez, telling him they’d like to come home and asking if he would care to send an escort.”
Wordswell smiled. “Prince Orez should be advised they’re coming, certainly, but I think the abbot will send an escort from here so they can leave promptly. It’s a round-trip either way, for them or for us. I think we’ll send about a hundred men, including the ones on this list. The officers in charge will know that this . . . how many, twenty . . . can be left at Woldsgard. We will already have sent Woldsgard our suggestion for dealing with them.”
“I agree that Prince Orez’s men will find it less difficult to dispose of them than their own mess-mates might do. The Woldsgard folk may take their freight back. It’ll be easier than when we came, it’s downhill
