dream was so long ago. Perhaps the details have dimmed with time.”
The voices were faint and discordant, as if heard through water. Vaelin attempted to blink and found he couldn’t, his eyelids having apparently become much heavier during his involuntary slumber. He could feel his body swaying as the surface he lay on moved, like the deck of a ship suffering particularly choppy seas. However, the faint squeal of a poorly oiled axle made it clear he lay in a cart.
“You saw what I saw. He brings ruin . . .”
“And what does your brother bring?”
Vaelin summoned his strength and forced his eyelids open, grunting with the effort. A smear of dull grey light slowly resolved into the dry splinters of aged wood as he blinked his way to consciousness. His hand splayed on the wood, fingers numb at first but flaring with pain as he tried to lever himself up.
“See?” the Princess said. “He’s strong. She said he would sleep for another day at least.”
Vaelin’s arms shook as he raised himself to his knees, staying upright despite the cart’s continual judder. The Jade Princess sat opposite him, the small buds of her lips forming a smile of welcome. “My lord,” she said in perfect Realm Tongue. “I trust you are well rested.”
“Speak in Chu-Shin, if you please.”
Vaelin’s gaze went to the source of the second voice, finding a woman glancing down at him from the cart’s buckboard. She was a few years shy of his own age with sharp features that put him in mind of a fox, as did the reddish brown hair tied back from her face in a series of tightly woven braids.
“I think our enterprise will benefit from shared understanding at all times,” she added to the Princess.
“Quite so,” the Princess said, slipping back into the Far Western tongue. “I was remiss.” She smirked a little at Vaelin as the woman turned away, snapping the reins she held against the rumps of the two dray horses pulling the cart.
Vaelin’s hands were unbound but he noted that his sword was nowhere in sight. Resting his back against the side of the cart for a second to gather his strength, he hauled himself up to look over the edge. Sherin rode alongside on her pony, sparing him a brief glance before spurring ahead. Glancing around he saw they were escorted by about fifty Stahlhast. They were garbed much the same as Varnko’s people but the subtle differences to the motifs with which they decorated their armour led him to conclude they must hail from a separate Skeld. The passing Steppe was as featureless as ever, giving no clue as to how far they might have travelled.
“Three days,” the Princess said in response to his unasked question. “The Grace of Heaven brews a strong tea.”
Vaelin’s hand went to his neck, feeling a small scab and the tenderness of what was surely a livid bruise but no serious injury. “She always did,” he said, inclining his head at the woman driving the cart. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Of course, please forgive my rudeness. I present Luralyn Reyerik, Druhr-Tivarik to the Cova Skeld and sister to the Mestra-Skeltir. Luralyn, this is . . .”
“I know his name,” the woman cut in, not turning, and adding in a low whisper, “one of them, at least.”
“Mestra-Skeltir,” Vaelin repeated. “You are sister to the leader of the Stahlhast?”
The woman replied with only a short nod, keeping her gaze firmly on the way ahead. The set of her shoulders told of a deep aversion to his presence that he might have ascribed to her people’s prejudice if he hadn’t heard her words to the Princess. He brings ruin . . .
A loud snort drew his gaze to the rear of the cart. Derka, the grey stallion, trotted in the cart’s tracks, led by a long tether. Seeing Vaelin, his eyes took on a wider cast and he tossed his head in either greeting or challenge. Vaelin suspected it might be both.
“Skeltir Varnko was suitably grateful,” the Princess explained. “The boy seemed well on the way to health when we left. The horse is yours now, in body and soul. I sang to him, you see.”
“Sang to him?” Vaelin asked.
“Just a small tune to bind you together. It didn’t take much. I think he had developed a liking for you already. Varnko was sorry to lose him, but felt honour demanded some form of parting gift.”
“I have been wondering,” Vaelin said. “How you came