Egen had traced Warrl somehow, and because he could not touch Kharl, he had killed them all-Merayni and Dowsyl and their three children … and Warrl. Warrl. Kharl’s youngest.
He did not know how much time had passed before he finally turned the chestnut and headed back out eastward on the lane, back through the ruins of Peachill.
“Ser?” asked Demyst, gently. “You knew them?”
“My consort’s sister and her consort, their children.” He did not want to mention Warrl. “He was a good man. An honest man.” He knew he could not say a word about Warrl, not and hold himself together.
“Lord West’s men, you think?”
Kharl just nodded, although he had no doubt that it was Egen’s doing. His throat was dry. He wanted to swallow, but he couldn’t. Beneath the grief, rage seethed, and his jaw kept tightening.
How could anyone be so viciously cruel? For Kharl, it was beyond explanation. Four children, helpless, and one of them had been Warrl, who had only gone to Merayni’s to be safe.
The mage shook his head. Merayni hadn’t been Kharl’s favorite, but she’d done what she had thought best-and it had led to her death. Kharl had tried to rescue Sanyle and keep Jenevra from Egen, and for that Egen had killed Charee, and tried to have Kharl flogged heavily enough that he would not survive. That had driven Arthal to sea on the Fleuryl-and to his death. Then Egen had used overtariffing and Tyrbel’s murder to drive away Warrl and send Kharl into hiding and eventually into flight from Brysta. Beyond that, Egen had burned every cot in Peachill.
And that hadn’t been enough-all that because Kharl had stopped Egen from abusing one girl and rescued one of his victims?
Thoughts kept swirling through Kharl’s head. Egen … always Egen. Bastard was too generous a term for Ostcrag’s son. So was pissprick … or anything else Kharl could think of.
The other thing that bothered him was that, at least for a time, Jeka had not been harmed. Kharl frowned, then nodded. Egen had never known that Kharl had hidden with Jeka. That had to be the only reason. When Kharl had walked to Peachill to see Warrl, he had not gone as a beggar, but as himself. Had that pride doomed Warrl?
And why hadn’t Egen done the same to Sanyle? Or had she fled to someone who could protect her? Kharl wondered if he’d ever know, but he just hoped that she had gotten safely to Vizyn. She had certainly known that it was not safe for her to stay in Brysta. Kharl shifted his weight in the saddle.
No one said a word on the ride back toward the gray stone highway.
As they neared the burned-out hut beside the old road, Demyst cleared his throat. “Ah … we headed back, ser?” asked Demyst.
“Not yet. We’ll keep heading south. We know what they’re doing. We don’t know why.” Especially now, Kharl had to know. What was Egen doing that required such cruelty, not just to Kharl, but to the holders he’d driven from their homes?
Not until they were a good kay south of Peachill did Kharl call another rest halt, once more at an abandoned-but not burned-cot-and one where they were shielded by a short hedgerow and not visible from the new highway. They ate and watered and fed the mounts, then rested for almost a glass.
No one said much to Kharl, respecting his silence and grief.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “We need to get riding.”
“Ser,” ventured Erdyl, “what are we seeking?”
Kharl laughed harshly. “If I knew that, we wouldn′t have to be here. Lord West-or his sons-don′t want travelers here. They’ve built a new stone road, but no one is using it, and they don’t seem to want anyone using it. There aren′t any armsmen in Brysta. They’ve been replaced by patrollers in new uniforms. There are no ships in the harbor except those from Hamor, and no one seems to know what’s on them. The Hamorian envoy avoided telling me that. The Sarronnese envoy doesn’t know. We can’t even find most of the other envoys or their secretaries. Those secretaries that Erdyl’s talked to don’t know any more than we do. Or they aren’t saying.” He shrugged. “So we’ll keep riding for a while.”
“Yes, ser. I didn’t mean …″
“I know,” Kharl replied. “It seems stupid, but there has to be some reason for all this, and we weren’t finding out in Brysta.” He climbed into the saddle and turned the chestnut back toward the gray stone road. He did not turn in the saddle to look back. He could not have done that and maintained any composure.
They rode more than another glass, another five to seven kays, from what Kharl judged before he sensed another set of lancers riding northward toward them from beyond the low hill crest ahead. He glanced around before speaking. “Off the road, over by those trees. There are more lancers coming.”
The five others followed, gathering around Kharl beneath an ancient black oak. “Before they get here, I’m going to put a sight shield around us. You won’t be able to see, but they won’t see us, either.”
“No more fire?” murmured Cevor.
“No. Not this time.” Kharl didn’t want too many lancers disappearing. Also, doing too much of the order-release magery took a heavy toll on him. “Just be quiet. They won’t be able to see us, but they can hear us.”
Once he had raised the sight shield, Kharl could hear more than a few swallows and someone’s fast and nervous breathing. He just hoped none of his group would do something stupid.
The second patrol was close to forty lancers-two full mounted squads. The riders were moving at a trot, and were out of sight before long. Kharl waited until he was certain before releasing the sight shield.
“Whew!” Alynar shook his head. “Felt like I was in a cave, ser.”
“Strange,” added Demyst. “I could hear the hoofs, but they just kept riding.”
Kharl turned the chestnut toward the new road, heading southward once more.
Over the next glass or so, east of the gray stone road, a road that had gradually changed its course so that it now pointed south-southeast rather than due south, the hills became more rugged, with occasional gray escarpments. Kharl had the feeling that the same kind of stone had been cut and used for the highway.
By then, it was well into late afternoon, and the holdings were getting more scattered. Kharl frowned as he looked at a hillside to the west at the blackened ruins of what had to have been a mansion or a lord’s dwelling. The cots below it were unharmed, and he could see some figures working the fields. Then he nodded. An unfriendly lord-or one independent of Egen-might well have been a threat. Now, the golds from rents doubtless went to Egen.
For the next kay or so, Kharl began to sense something ahead, but he couldn’t tell exactly what, beyond the general feeling of people and chaos and order-almost like a sizable town. That would not have been surprising, although there were few large towns to the southwest of Brysta, from what Kharl remembered. Most were either on the coast, to the east or north.
Still, the feeling grew.
Then they had to take cover once more, as another patrol appeared from the south and rode northward.
Once the third patrol had passed, Kharl concentrated on what he had been sensing ahead. There were lancers, buildings, and the chaos left from wizardry, and not all that far away. From what he could tell, it was beyond the hillcrest on the east side of the road.
“This way.” Without looking back, he turned the chestnut into the meadow to the left of the gray stone road and headed toward the woods or woodlot that looked to be a kay or so farther to the east, straddling the top of the low ridge. He hoped the woods would provide some cover.
A single holder at the bottom of the hill yelled something, but Kharl ignored him, and the man went back to digging out his irrigation ditch.
It took nearly a half glass for Kharl to reach the woods and guide his mount through the edges until he reached a place where he could look southward over the long and shallow valley that stretched to the southeast from the ridge. The gray stone road split the valley almost evenly. Another two kays to the southeast, between the road and a stream, Kharl could see what looked to be a town, except that the buildings were all long and low structures.