forward, the wagons turning in a wide circle to follow. Kayli looked back one last time at her family standing quietly, as she had stood with them when Kairi rode off to her Order, grief tempered by their pride in their kinswoman. Brisi had been right. By marriage or by Dedication to the Order, Kayli’s first duty was service to her country. Nothing had changed, after all, but the form of that service. She had passed every test the Order had presented; she would prove equal to this challenge, too.
Kayli raised one hand in a last salute, then turned and rode toward her future.
Chapter Two
By the end of the first day’s ride, kayo’s sense of pride had changed, first to a sort of heady freedom—how wonderful it was to be riding again in the fresh sweet wind of the plains—and then to grim amusement as it became apparent just how unprepared Terralt and his men had been for their ride through Bregond. The wagon axles had been built high—probably to get the wagons through mud and swampy earth in the wetlands—and that height served them well in the tall grass, but thin cloth leggings and the horses’ short coats were poor protection against the sharp-edged swordgrass and the toothed sawgrass that grew almost to the height of a man, or the barbed hookthorn thickets scattered thickly across the plains.
Perhaps Terralt had ridden in the wagon like a sick child on the journey to Bregond and had somehow ignored the cursing of his men as first their trousers, then their legs, were slashed and torn. Now, however, as his own curses joined the rest, he was obviously too proud to retreat to the wagon while Kayli rode.
“Pride and foolishness sleep in the same bed,” Brisi had told her many times. “See that you do not sleep with them.”
Kayli touched Maja’s sides with her heels, urging the mare ahead to ride by Terralt’s side. “Endra and the other maids doubtless brought their jaffs,” Kayli said, indicating the sturdy leather flaps she wore over the outside of her own trousers. “Riding in the wagon, they do not need them, and I have spares as well. There are not enough for all your men, but some can ride behind the wagons where the grass is trampled.” She glanced at Terralt, saw his jaw clench. Pride again. “I suppose the grasses are very different in the wetlands.”
“You speak as if Agrond were a swamp,” Terralt said wryly. “It’s not. But yes, it’s very different. There are more roads, for one thing. The land’s more settled.”
“You mean permanent villages, farms to grow food.” Kayli nodded. “The wetlands are well suited to such settlement. Our clans follow their herds from watering hole to watering hole, to new grazing. Our roads circle Bregond instead of crossing it. But a great river crosses Agrond, does it not?”
“The Dezarin, yes,” Terralt said, nodding. “It links a dozen trade cities. Perhaps my brother will take you one day to see it.” He glanced at her mockingly. “Or I will.”
“Tell me about your brother,” Kayli said, refusing to acknowledge the innuendo. “So few merchants trade with both Agrond and Bregond that my father had heard little of him.”
“I’d have thought otherwise, judging from your gift.” Terralt gestured at the string of horses tied behind the wagons. “Randon will be beside himself. I’m sure he’ll insist on founding a whole new stable on them.”
“Then he enjoys riding and hunting?” Kayli prompted. “I thought as much from the gift of the hawk.”
“I can’t think what he loves more, unless it’s sport of a more amorous nature, if your ladyship knows what I mean,” Terralt said smoothly. “But then, being a maiden, you probably don’t.”
“You speak as if you believe your brother frivolous,” Kayli said calmly.
“Frivolous? No.” Terralt shrugged. “But too full of foolish dreams. When he was younger he wanted to become a mage. Stevann, our palace mage, sadly encouraged him, but Father put a stop
Kayli raised one hand in a last salute, then turned and rode toward her future.
Chapter Two
By the end of the first day’s ride, kayo’s sense of pride had changed, first to a sort of heady freedom—how wonderful it was to be riding again in the fresh sweet wind of the plains—and then to grim amusement as it became apparent just how unprepared Terralt and his men had been for their ride through Bregond. The wagon axles had been built high—probably to get the wagons through mud and swampy earth in the wetlands—and that height served them well in the tall grass, but thin cloth leggings and the horses’ short coats were poor protection against the sharp-edged swordgrass and the toothed sawgrass that grew almost to the height of a man, or the barbed hookthorn thickets scattered thickly across the plains.
Perhaps Terralt had ridden in the wagon like a sick child on the journey to Bregond and had somehow ignored the cursing of his men as first their trousers, then their legs, were slashed and torn. Now, however, as his own curses joined the rest, he was obviously too proud to retreat to the wagon while Kayli rode.
“Pride and foolishness sleep in the same bed,” Brisi had told her many times. “See that you do not sleep with them.”
Kayli touched Maja’s sides with her heels, urging the mare ahead to ride by Terralt’s side. “Endra and the other maids doubtless brought their jaffs,” Kayli said, indicating the sturdy leather flaps she wore over the outside of her own trousers. “Riding in the wagon, they do not need them, and I have spares as well. There are not enough for all your men, but some can ride behind the wagons where the grass is trampled.” She glanced at Terralt, saw his jaw clench. Pride again. “I suppose the grasses are very different in the wetlands.”
“You speak as if Agrond were a swamp,” Terralt said wryly. “It’s not. But yes, it’s very different. There are more roads, for one thing. The land’s more settled.”
“You mean permanent villages, farms to grow food.” Kayli nodded. “The wetlands are well suited to such settlement. Our clans follow their herds from watering hole to watering hole, to new grazing. Our roads circle Bregond instead of crossing it. But a great river crosses Agrond, does it not?”
“The Dezarin, yes,” Terralt said, nodding. “It links a dozen trade cities. Perhaps my brother will take you one day to see it.” He glanced at her mockingly. “Or I will.”
“Tell me about your brother,” Kayli said, refusing to acknowledge the innuendo. “So few merchants trade with both Agrond and Bregond that my father had heard little of him.”
“I’d have thought otherwise, judging from your gift.” Terralt gestured at the string of horses tied behind the wagons. “Randon will be beside himself. I’m sure he’ll insist on founding a whole new stable on them.”
“Then he enjoys riding and hunting?” Kayli prompted. “I thought as much from the gift of the hawk.”
“I can’t think what he loves more, unless it’s sport of a more amorous nature, if your ladyship knows what I mean,” Terralt said smoothly. “But then, being a maiden, you probably don’t.”
“You speak as if you believe your brother frivolous,” Kayli said calmly.
“Frivolous? No.” Terralt shrugged. “But too full of foolish dreams. When he was younger he wanted to become a mage. Stevann, our palace mage, sadly encouraged him, but Father put a stop
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