“Have you been to Kalsing before?” Tariel asked Riann, referring to the capital by name, “or toCarliss?”
“No,” Riann said. “I was supposed to go tomorrow, with the other knights, but Lord Tyrook ordered me to stay behind and guard the castle.” His lips twisted with bitterness, and Tariel could feel his outrage at this injustice. “I have not been to Carlisseither.”
Tariel bit her lip. “Neither has Zolotais.” She had already asked the desert spirit about it. However, she knew that Carliss was safer—they had an alliance with the Maroyan Empire, and were far more tolerant thanFjordlanders.
But… “Pursuit is much more likely along the road to the border,” she said. “Sir Jerrold will be expecting us to strike for Carliss. The last place he will look for us is in thecapital.”
Calrain frowned thoughtfully. “That is a fair point,” he said, “and we are much more likely to find ships leaving for the Empire there than in any other port city in Fjordland. It will be much harder for Sir Jerrold to track us bysea.”
They turned onto the southeast road, heading for Kalsing. Privately, Tariel also hoped she might be able to find some answers as to her true parentage. If she knew who her Maroyan father was, she might be able to find his family in the Empire and gain anally.
Perhaps I can get the queen to tell me who my parents are,she thought. A ball of nerves formed in her stomach—the queen was well guarded, and there was little chance of getting to her in the castle, especially since she was confined to her sickbed. But perhaps she could find some clues if she asked the right people some discreetquestions.
They made it another hour down the road before hooves clattered from the opposite direction. Her heart jumped as she cast her gaze around, but there was nowhere to hide on such short notice, especially with so manyhorses.
“We’re a group of traders,” she hissed as she waved her hand, spinning an illusion of two strapping young men and an old man with silver hair and weathered skin. “You are our father,” she toldCalrain.
“Me?” Calrain whispered back, panic in his voice. But he straightened quickly as the horses crested thehill.
Tariel’s heart sank as she counted twelve knights, all with Roisen’s sigil stamped on their chests. The marks they wore were blood red, signifying their status as witch hunters, and the man in front, a giant with silver-blond hair and a scar running over his right eye, wore a red cape to match that billowed in the wind behindhim.
The hunting party surrounded them, a wall of hulking muscle and iron blocking any chance ofretreat.
“State your names and your business,” Sir Jerrold barked, fixing his cold gaze onCalrain.
Tariel held her breath, hoping he could keep it together. She could feel the fear stampeding in his heart, though she supposed that his cowed stance was in character. Real traders would be just asafraid.
“I am Barrard, and these are my sons, Jesper and Farlan,” Calrain said. “We are simple traders,sir.”
“Hmph.” The witch hunter eyed them suspiciously. “What are you doing on the road at night, and carrying such little luggage? Surely if you were traders you would have wares on the backs of these horses, or better yet, awagon.”
“A wagon would slow us down,” Calrain said without missing a beat, and Tariel silently praised him for his quick thinking. “My wife is staying with her mother in the capital, and she has grown very ill. We are trying to make it to her before she passes.” The pain in his voice was so real, Tariel found herself sympathetic even though she knew Calrain was weaving ayarn.
Sir Jerrold snorted. “I would suggest you not ride your horses into the ground on account of a woman,” he jeered. “She will be dead no matter what you do, and you will need your beasts if you are to continue plying atrade.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Calrain stammered. Tariel felt a surge of anger from him, but he hid it well. “We will becareful.”
The witch hunter was silent for a moment. “Have you any news of Castle Tyrook?” he asked. “I am on my way there to investigate rumors of a witch hiding within theirwalls.”
The three of them shook their heads. “We came from Soldor, further west,” Riann said. “We passed Castle Tyrook on our way here, but we did not stop, so we have no news. I do hope you find the witch,” he added. “We’ve had enough trouble with harvests in our region as itis.”
“Too right you are,” Sir Jerrold grumbled. He turned back to his men. “Enough dallying here. We need to reach Castle Tyrooktonight!”
The witch hunter and his men took off, heading in the direction Tariel and her men had just comefrom.
The three of them stayed still, wrestling to get their fear under control as the thunder of the hunting party’s hooves faded in thedistance.
“That,” Riann said as they started on their way again, “was far tooclose.”
“The important thing is we survived,” Tariel said firmly. Her heart was still pounding, and the acid fear coming from the others wasn’t helping. She wished they had more time to calm down, but they needed to get movingagain.
“Yes, but Sir Jerrold will reach Castle Tyrook in a matter of hours,” Calrain said tightly. He glanced behind them, his silver eyes filled with worry. “He will be furious once he finds out that you have escaped, and he is a very intelligent man—it won’t take him long to trace our steps and figure out we’ve fooledhim.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Riann vowed, his voice filled with resolve. Tariel felt some of his fear fade away, replaced by determination. “We’ve been going at a decent pace, but I think it’s time to push the horses a little faster. Let’s see if we can reach a safe place to camp before daylightbreaks.”
17
They pushedthe horses as hard as they dared, alternating between trotting and galloping, and managed to put quite a few miles between them and Castle Tyrook. The three of them passed several villages on their way, but Riann did not stop—he wanted to travel as much as possible during the night. Besides, these villages were too small for them tohide.
