Sofy nodded, biting her lip.
“Sounds like a plan,” Teriyan said roughly and smacked the younger man on the shoulder. “Glad you decided to join us after all!” He said it with a reprimand that promised retributions to come, but with humour all the same. Jaryd smiled and set to adjusting his saddle.
Sofy put a hand on his shoulder. “You didn't get your revenge?” she asked.
Jaryd shook his head. “No. But some Goeren-yai say that revenge is the only sustenance that will not perish with age.”
Sofy did not look particularly amused at that. “Then why come back?” she asked.
Jaryd looked at her. Her long hair was tangled and windblown, yet it did not suit her ill. Her big, dark eyes were earnest. Questioning. “Since Tarryn was killed, I've been thinking only of reasons to die,” he said simply. “Lately, I thought of some reasons to live.” He kissed her on the cheek.
Sofy stared at him, astonished.
“Mount up,” he told her. “We have to move. And don't tell anyone I did that, or I'll have Prince Koenyg joining the long line for my severed head.”
“Oh, you'll have many more than Koenyg!” Sofy said brightly, retreating to her horse. “You'll have the archbishop for one, he'd be furious. And my brother Wylfred, he'd be most upset.” All of a sudden she was bubbly again.
“All right, I get the idea.”
“Oh, and Damon! Damon would kick your backside if I told him!” She mounted swiftly enough that Jaryd had to wonder if her little dussieh was the only horse she'd been riding, as she'd claimed. “And probably Father too. He's the King of Lenayin, you know.”
“I heard,” Jaryd said drily.
“And Lord Terfelt of Valhanan, he visited again last month, he's got such a crush on me.”
“You don't think I could take him?”
“Silence,” Sofy said primly, “I'm compiling my list. Now let's see, there's…” Jaryd pressed heels to the mare and forded the stream before she could continue. “I'll have it all memorised by the time we stop again!” Sofy called after him, unperturbed. “You'll be so thrilled to learn of all the people who love me so much they'd want you dead! I'm very popular, you know.”
“I used to think Sasha was the craziest princess,” Jaryd said to Teriyan in passing. “But she told me some stories about Alythia and, now I know Sofy, I'm beginning to think Sasha might be the sanest.”
Soon the forest trail became farmland once more, broken by rows of trees and bushes, and increasingly steep, rolling terrain. They passed farmers tending animals, ploughing fields or pruning orchards, and others on the road with carts. The party attracted many strange looks, but there wasn't much anyone could do about that now.
At a bend about a gentle slope, Jaryd reined his mare to a halt. Down to the right, along the base of the forested hills climbing up from the valley, ran a small stream. Ryssin rode up beside him. “What's the problem?”
“I know this way well,” said Jaryd, edgily. “The Daeryn Road arrives ahead, it's a fast ride from Algery if you gallop.”
“Fast enough to cut us off?” Ryssin asked, guessing Jaryd's concern.
“Aye, maybe. There's about ten good routes to get to where we're going, but it's not like there's any shortage of chasers. They'll split up and follow the lot. I'm not worried about those behind us, we can outrun them…but if any got ahead…”
“You think we should go around?” Ryssin asked.
“Maybe,” said Jaryd. “But it'll be slow, and then we might really get caught.”
“Sitting here's pretty slow too,” said Ryssin. “Your choice, lad, pick one.”
Jaryd exhaled hard. “Go back and tell them-if we strike trouble, ride at them. There'll be no guardsmen following, it'll all be nobles, and they'll not have had much time for armour. The only ones wearing armour were at the wedding, and I don't think any of those will be chasing.”
“Aye,” said Ryssin. Jaryd nudged the mare forward and rounded the bend. Ahead, hedges and poplars lined the fences at the Daeryn Road intersection. The greenery was thick, but not so thick that it could hide horses and riders. No, if there were going to be an ambush, it would come from the barn he saw on the left. He rode further, and the barn came into view past a rise. He could not see anything. But then, that was why they called it an ambush.
He glanced behind to see that everyone was following, then checked to the right where Daeryn Road continued downhill to a little bridge over the stream…and glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye. His head whipped around, and there, charging from behind the barn, were four horsemen…no, six…no, nine horsemen.
“Ride!” he yelled, and slammed in his heels. The mare bolted, and he tore across the intersection risking a glance behind…Ryssin, then Byorn, then Sofy, skirts flying. He had to turn back before Teriyan came into view, but he guessed he would be there too, guarding the rear. He held the mare wide right, then cut into the left-hand bend ahead, as he'd learned in many reckless races along such roads in his youth…
A glance behind showed Ryssin following his line, then Byorn. He made a similar line at the next right. Probably, he thought grimly, the wind rushing in his face, whoever was chasing knew these roads equally well. Probably it was someone who knew him well, to have guessed he might come this way. Having Teriyan at the rear had seemed a reasonable precaution before-he was the best warrior astride after Jaryd. But fighting from horseback was not the same as regular swordplay. Had they all been afoot, Jaryd had no doubt the nine nobility would have little chance against the four swordsmen of their party. But horses were expensive, and nobility had vastly more riding experience than even Teriyan.
Jaryd knew how to lose them…or at least, some of them. It was an old trick, in these parts, and doubtless his pursuers knew it too…but now, there was Sofy to worry about. She had the least riding experience of them all. Perhaps…perhaps it would be best for her to turn and surrender? They'd never harm a princess of Lenayin. But what if she never got the opportunity to open her mouth and they killed an insolent country girl for conspiring with a traitor? Teriyan was right-he'd made these men mad. Likely whomever they caught would not live long enough to make pretty explanations.
Trees, then fields, then farmhouses all flashed by as the road wound back and forth, and Jaryd searched impatiently for a suitable location. Then he saw it-an orchard, sloping toward the stream. Beyond the stream, the rising, forest-covered slope of the valley side. He pointed hard with his right arm and hoped to the gods that Sofy would be able to muscle her horse off the road if it baulked. The orchard was surrounded by low stone walls, but one corner fronting the road was missing for access…Jaryd urged the mare sharply through the hole. The mare didn't like it, but he left her no doubt and she went, hooves uncertain on new footing, rushing past fruit trees. He ducked some branches and then he was in the lane between planting furrows and the mare accelerated once more, liking this new road better.
Jaryd glanced behind and saw Ryssin, Byorn…then Sofy…good. He slowed the mare again and cut right, ducking branches. A hanging fruit hit him in the head, and he raised an arm to protect his face from another branch. Soon he cut left again, onto a wider lane, checking behind…again, Ryssin was there, but he had no time to see the others. The ground beneath the trees was thick with long bullgrass, which would hide the horses’ tracks. Certainly they could be tracked, but slowly, and the pursuers would have no choice but to split up.
After a while of zigzagging toward what he thought was the centre of the orchard, Jaryd stopped. Ryssin appeared between the thick branches, but there was no space to stand two horses aside, so he rounded the nearest tree. Byorn came past also, then Sofy, who stopped in the lane between trees. Then Teriyan, squeezing his horse against a tree's branches, leaning low in the saddle amidst the leaves and fruit.