Caris of the lovely hair and eyes.Caris, with the grace of a dancer.Caris…Halithe let the mental image form in her mind, remembering the fleeting touch of lips, the smell of her hair, the taste—
Something moved in the reflection, something shifted.She leaned in, staring—
A boot crunched the leaves near her.
Halithe started, looking up.The image disappeared without even a flicker.
“Must be hungry, the way you’re staring at that spoon,” the sardonic man spoke, his mask lowered as he stared at her with a deeply suspicious expression.“What ya doing?”
Halithe dropped her eyes and flushed, embarrassed.She gave him a shrug.“Nothing,” she muttered, resolving to sit with her hands neatly folded, to appear to not have a thought in her head.
“Bored, most like,” Ritathan spoke up.He caught Halithe’s eye and gave a tiny, warning shake of his head.“Do I hear horses?”
The leader turned, to look up the road.Halithe used the moment to stuff the spoon back in her pocket.
Three men on horses came up the road, surrounding a cart pulled by two goats.They were the largest goats Halithe had ever seen, more like small ponies in size, with white coats and curled horns.The horns were huge and grey and one of them had a broken tip.
“Jerrold,” called the sardonic one.
“Lewald,” Jerrold replied.He was a big man, worn and weathered.He pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted, as did the others with him.The cart drew closer; the man driving it looked familiar.
“Orval?”Ritathan rose to his feet.
The man stared blankly for a moment as the cart came to a halt.“Ritathan?I didn’t recognize you without your robes and—” he cut himself off when Ritathan leveled a withering gaze at him, but Halithe heard the missing, “chains.”
“Books,” the nobleman finished lamely.
The Lord High Baron had certainly changed since she had seen him in the throne room, receiving his “awards” from Xyrath and Satia.The pale, thin scholar looked stronger and tanned, dressed in plain tunic and trous.
“You know them,” Jerrold jerked his head toward Ritathan.
“I do,” Orval said.
“They came through the portal,” Lewald said to Jerrold.“It was close to where Lord Orval said they came through, when they was brought here.All swirly white and pale.These three, and their horses.Damn thing popped closed right behind them.”
“We’ve come to serve the Lord High Baron,” Ritathan said smoothly.“Fleeing the chaos behind us.”
“He’s Lord High Baron in name only,” Jerrold said firmly.“I am Jerrold of Waerington, and I speak for the people of the Black Hills.What brings you here and through a portal?”
“Escaping Satia, I suspect,” Orval said
“She tried to have me killed,” Ritathan said.“Apparently she has run out of Baronies to appoint her enemies too.”
Jerrold snorted, but his frown grew deeper as his eyes traveled over Halithe and Aramal.Halithe felt him assessing her.“We were expecting an army,” he said slowly.
“Satia has offended the Mage Guild,” Ritathan said.“You might see an army march up the roads, but you won’t see one through a portal.”
“You do not call her ‘Queen?’”
“No,” Ritathan replied.
“Can you, or any of you, open that portal?”
“No,” Ritathan said firmly.
“A man of few words,” Jerrold observed, then turned to Orval.“Are you willing to vouch for them?”
Orval hesitated.One of the rams tossed his head, setting his harness jangling.
