Chapter XI
“I wish I could go with you, Jo,” Sir Graybow said as he gave Jo a leg up into her horse’s saddle. He looked up at the squire and then clasped her wrist in farewell.
Jo smiled sincerely, peering into the man’s eyes. “I wish you could, too,” Jo whispered.
Sir Graybow smiled wryly. “Duty calls.” The skin around his light blue eyes wrinkled a Little.
The young woman nodded. “Duty is important. And I know that your first loyalty must be to the castle.” Jo shook her head, her gray eyes intent. “You have given me things that no one else could. For that, you have my loyalty, and I will try my best not to fail you.”
“That’s all I can ask, Johauna,” Sir Graybow said, looking down the road. “You do know which way to go now, don’t you?” he asked teasingly.
“Oh, aye!” Jo responded with a laugh. “You only kept us up the better part of the night memorizing your maps!” The castellan’s questioning gaze didn’t soften. Shaking her head, Jo recited, “Head due northwest through the Wulfholdes and enter the Altan Tepes Mountains. From there head north by northwest until we reach the end of the Altan Tepes and the Black Peaks take over. Follow the trail to Armstead.” She looked down at the castellan. “How’d I do?”
Sir Graybow nodded. “Fine, Jo, fine.” The man frowned. “Its been years since I’ve seen the Black Peaks, and a more treacherous mountain range I’ve never found. There aren’t any villages along the way, not even hamlets where you can get a night’s respite.”
“I know,” Jo responded. “We have Fernlover and one other mule to carry our supplies, and spring has come to the land. We’re strong enough. We’ll find the box, hopefully before it arrives in Armstead.”
Sir Graybow nodded. “That’s unlikely, Jo, but not as farfetched as we had at first thought. I sent messenger pigeons to a few knights on reconnaissance along the Duke’s Road south of Kelvin, telling them to ride west to Rifllian and north to Verge and Threshold. Perhaps they’ll arrive in Threshold before the box does.”
“Should we try to meet them in Threshold?” Jo asked steadily.
Sir Graybow shook his head. “No, continue on through the village, heading straight northwest until you reach Armstead, then backtrack along the trail to intercept the box.”
“Right,” Jo said lightly. “If that’s all, then, we’ll be on our way. We’ve a good hour or two before sunrise, and we can be well out of Penhaligon territory by then.” She paused and then added, “Have you any last words of wisdom?”
The castellan smiled, his second chin wobbling slightly. “Yes, but only this: have faith in yourself. I do.” He stepped away from Jo’s horse. “That’s all I can ask, and that’s all I want.” Sir Graybow held up his hand, and a guard opened the wide doors to let Jo’s party out through one of the secondary exits.
Jo’s throat constricted, and she could only nod one last time to the castellan. Then she touched her heels to Carsig’s flanks. The big gelding leaped forward, his metal-shod hooves ringing on the cobblestone pavement. Behind Jo rode Karleah on a mare every bit as gray as the wizardess herself. Dayin followed after, again on one of Braddoc’s long-legged ponies. Brisbois took up the next position. He’d protested upon seeing Jo’s mount, for the gelding used to be his. Jo cut his complaint short. Brisbois was given the choice between several sturdy horses, but, to everyone’s surprise, he’d picked a stocky, short-coupled, piebald mare. She was an ugly thing, but Brisbois insisted that she was what he wanted. He led a pack-laden mule, as did Braddoc. The dwarf rode his jet pony, Onyx, and led Fernlover, the mule.
The seven animals cantered down the narrow road leading to one of Penhaligon’s lesser gates. There were few people around at that early hour, and Jo was sharply reminded of the last time she had made such an exit; Flinn had stopped her to show her the rising sun split by the Craven Sisters. Jo now looked eastward and saw the two pointed hills, but the sun was not yet ready to rise. Another time, she thought. Another time to see again the beautiful split sun that gives the castle its name.
Jo turned Carsig north along the Duke’s Road and gave the gelding free rein. He broke into a long, loping canter, a pace that could eat the miles away while the terrain remained smooth.
There was no suitable ford for miles around, and Jo wasn’t about to travel southward to the nearest one at Kelvin. No, they’d try crossing a few miles north of Penhaligon where the River Hillfollow widened out. Sir Graybow suggested the route, though he cautioned Jo. The spring rains were likely to have swollen the river’s banks, and the current might be too strong. But they had to cross the Hillfollow somehow.
The chill darkness of early dawn gave way to warmth as the sun rose. Thankfully, the sky revealed no clouds. A flock of birds, cackling noisily, rose from nearby trees as Carsig clattered by. Startled, Jo heard a similar cry from behind her. She turned in her saddle to look at Karleah. The old wizardess was intent on the departing birds, and every now and then she opened her mouth and cackled in an excellent imitation. Jo smiled and turned her attention back to the road ahead. She shook her head and thought, Karleah is a funny, strange woman, but I’m glad to count her as a friend.
Jo glanced behind her again, checking on her comrades. A few lengths separated each person, just as she had instructed. Once again Sir Graybow’s warning about bandits attacking travelers echoed through Jo’s mind. Not unlike the gangs infesting Specularum. Jo thought and shuddered. She’d had enough of gangs to last a lifetime.
The fair weather and easy road made for excellent progress. It was only midmorning when Jo turned off the road and headed due west, toward the river ford. It’s a good thing Sir Graybow made me memorize so much of the map, Jo thought as she urged Carsig through the spring undergrowth. I would have passed right by the three dead elms otherwise.
Water glistened just ahead. The land that sloped down to the river was not as flat as it had been around the Hillfollow when Jo and Braddoc had traveled south to Kelvin. Knotted roots and grassy hillocks stood in thick clumps along the ground.
Approaching the bank, Carsig slipped on the soft spring soil, the earth saturated with rain and wet leaves. Jo gripped the reins firmly, giving the gelding just enough leather to recover. When he regained his footing, Jo pulled him to a stop. She turned around and yelled back to Karleah, who was following at some distance, “Karleah! Dismount; the ways not safe. Pass it on!”
Jo lightly jumped off Carsig, her own booted feet slipping as she landed on the slick earth. She grabbed her saddle to keep from falling, while her feet shuffled underneath her. Carsig turned his head to look at the squire and nickered at her. “Yes, yes, I hear you,” Jo responded aloud. She held out her hand and added, “I’m off, aren’t I?” Carsig nibbled her fingers, and then wheezed in disgust when he found no treat. Jo fished a carrot from her pocket and said, “All right, all right!” The gelding turned his head back to Jo and then delicately took the proffered carrot.
“What’s it like ahead, Jo?” Karleah asked as she led her gray mare down the narrow path Carsig had taken.
“Not so good,” the squire responded. Jo grabbed the gelding’s reins and started to walk. The water lay less than a hundred yards away, but getting there was going to take some doing. The trees here—mostly willow and cottonwood—grew thick and tangled along the riverbank. Roots twisted above the soil line, and Jo saw signs of high water having flooded the land in the past. She led the big gelding down the straightest and safest path between the trees. She took care to get out of Carsig’s way whenever the horse slipped. Johauna had been stepped on by a horse once at the hostler’s, and the experience was not one she would willingly repeat.