forward, drawing shields and blocking in front of us. The tiny movement gleams again, and then something points at Markos.
Arrows.
Oh fuck. I stare, shocked—it didn't occur to me that we'd be turned away at the gates. "Is there another way through these mountains?" I breathe, my voice low.
"Climbing," Solat says. "But woale are not sure-footed except on flat lands. We would have to lead them and travel overfoot ourselves…and it would be dangerous for us, as well."
"No. We are not doing that." Aron taps a hand on my hip. "Get down, Faith."
I automatically slide off the side of the woale, all too happy to take a leg-stretch or three. Yulenna slides off of Kerren's mount and lands beside me, rubbing her butt. "Are we turning around? What are we doing?" I ask, curious.
Aron points at Kerren. "Wait here with them. The others, come with me." And he rides forward, his woale doing that grunting little trot like Markos's mount. I didn't even know woale could move that fast. It's almost a horse-gallop, complete with fat bouncing sides and the jangle of supplies as all three men ride forward.
"What the fuck are they doing?" I hiss, shocked. I clutch at the neck of my cloak, horrified as Aron boldly takes off his cloak and casts it to the ground, revealing his dark hair and noble features. Solat and Vitar ride next to him, but they're not close enough to protect him with those shields. "He's going to get fucking killed!"
"My lady," Kerren says gently, looking at me. "He is not the target."
Oh.
Oh, right. It's me that's the target. I rub my arms, suddenly glad that he left me behind. "It's still not safe for him to ride forward like that," I tell Kerren and Yulenna. "I don't like it."
"He goes to show them that he is who he claims," Yulenna says in a reasonable voice, watching Aron ride forward. "Then they will bow to him and give him the welcome he deserves."
"Mmmhmm." They weren't with my Aron in Aventine, when someone tried to assassinate us. Or Katharn. Or at the Citadel. Or…man, we really get attacked a lot. That sucks. Maybe it's a good thing we now have bodyguards. I frown to myself at the thought and I wonder if the other Aron got constantly betrayed all the time or if we're just the lucky ones.
We watch, and I hold my breath as Aron approaches the fortress, his long hair waving like a flag. He makes a wonderful target, and I cringe inwardly when Markos and the others move to his side. I'm torn between watching Kerren for reactions and watching Aron, because I have a feeling Kerren's going to know something's wrong before I do. As I wait, I see a small door—inset in the much, much larger ones—open below and someone comes out to talk to Aron and the men. They all stand there, distant dots, and I wish I could hear their conversation.
The newcomer drops to his knees before Aron’s woale and stacks his fists over his heart. I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. There’s a great shout, and as I watch, the people in the windows retreat. The man gets up from his knees, and then there’s a massive groan as the gates slowly shudder open.
“Looks like we are welcomed,” Yulenna says.
Kerren glances over at her. “Give Faith your cloak and switch mounts with her.”
She nods. “At once.”
I want to protest, but I’m ashamed to say that I don’t. He’s setting up Yulenna as the target, just in case we’re going to be betrayed again. It’s smart, but I can’t help but feel guilty as Yulenna comes to my side and envelops me in her cloak, even as Kerren raises his shield and steers his woale in front of us to hide what we’re doing. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to her as she fastens it around my neck.
“Do not be. I know I am expendable.” Her smile is bittersweet. “At least this way, I can be of service.” She tugs the hood over my head and then pulls my cloak around her shoulders, pulling my hood over her long, curling hair.
“Well, I hope it’s all not necessary.”
Kerren dismounts, his armor jangling. “We all hope it is not,” he says easily, and then offers his hand to Yulenna. “Let us get my lord’s anchor mounted once more. I think you should walk, Faith, so you seem like the servant.”
“I can do that.” For