And if it would exact the revenge that I saw in Walther’s eyes, so much the better.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Pauline.
She looked at me sideways, an eye roll added in for good measure. “I’m fine, Lia. If I was able to ride all the way here at breakneck speed on a Ravian, I’m certainly able to amble along at a turtle’s pace on Nove. My biggest challenge right now is these riding trousers. They’re getting a bit snug.” She pulled on the waistband.
“We’ll take care of that in Luiseveque,” I said.
“Maybe we can meet with those back-alley traders again,” she said mischievously.
I smiled. I knew she was trying to lift my spirits.
The highway was busy. We were scarcely out of sight of one person or another at any time. Small squads of a dozen or even fewer soldiers passed us three times. There were also frequent passing travelers returning to distant homes after the festival, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. The company on the road was some comfort. Gwyneth’s warning about an assassin had more heft now, though I’d still be impossible to identify. After weeks in the sun, and as much time with my hands in a kitchen sink, I looked more like a country maid than ever. Especially riding a mop-haired donkey. Still, I kept my jerkin loosely laced so I could easily slip my hand beneath it to get to my knife if I should need it.
I had no idea where Walther’s platoon might have been when he said he had to catch up with them. I hoped they were still at Civica and not stationed at some distant outpost. Maybe together with Bryn and Regan we could talk some sense into him—if I got there in time. Walther was in no state of mind to be riding anywhere. I wanted Greta’s death avenged too, but not at the cost of losing him. Of course, I was again supposing I’d be allowed to talk to anyone at all. I wasn’t sure what awaited me back in Civica.
The cistern was still at least an hour away. I remembered the first time I saw it, thinking it looked like a crown on top of the hill. For me it had been a marker of a beginning, and now it would mark the end—the last place I’d meet with Rafe.
I tried not to think about him. My courage and resolve floundered when I did, but he was impossible to keep from my thoughts. I knew I had to tell him the truth about myself—why I had to say good-bye to Terravin and to him. I owed him that much. Maybe on some level, he already understood. Maybe that was why he didn’t try to talk me out of it. I understand about duty. I wished he didn’t.
“Water?” Pauline held out a canteen to me. Her cheeks were pink with the heat. How I longed for the cool breeze of the bay.
I took the canteen from her and swigged down a gulp, then poured some down my shirt to cool off. It was still early, but the heat on the road was already daunting. The riding clothes were stifling, but at least they offered some protection from the sun. I looked down at one of the many frayed tears in my trousers, the fabric peeling back to expose my knee, and I started laughing, laughing so hard I could scarcely catch my breath. My eyes watered with tears.
Pauline looked at me, startled, and I said, “Look at us! Can you imagine?”
My laughter caught hold, and she let loose with a snort and laughter too. “It might all be worth it,” she said, “just to see everyone’s jaw drop.”
Oh, jaws would certainly drop. Especially the Chancellor’s and the Scholar’s.
Our laughter quieted slowly, like something wound fist-tight, unraveling, and in seconds, it seemed like the whole world had fallen silent with us.
Listen.
I noticed the road was empty for once, no one ahead, and when I looked back, no one was behind us either. I couldn’t see far. We were in a basin between hills. Maybe that accounted for the prickly silence that suddenly surrounded us.
I listened carefully to the plodding of hooves on dirt. The chink and jingle of tack. The silence.
“Wait,” I said, putting my hand out to stop Pauline, and then in a whisper, “wait.”
I sat there hushed, my blood rushing in my ears, and cocked my head to the side. Listen. Pauline didn’t utter a word, waiting for