Karigan dared not refuse the honor, and with the captain’s help, swung up into the saddle.

“Safe journey,” the captain said. “May Aeryc and Aeryon watch over you.”

“Thank you,” Karigan said, “and…and good-bye.”

She reined Condor away from the stables and onto the pathway that led to the gates of the wall that surrounded the castle and its grounds. “Let’s go,” she told Fergal.

“Let’s go” translated to Fergal as “let’s gallop.” He whooped in delight and dug his heels into Sunny’s sides. The old cavalry horse’s head jolted right up and she sprang down the path as though to charge the enemy on the field of battle.

“Oh, dear,” the captain said behind Karigan.

Oh, dear was right. Karigan ground her teeth, and with a final wave to the captain and Connly, she urged Condor into a slow jog after Fergal. One did not gallop across castle grounds under any circumstances except in a dire emergency, and her first duty as Fergal’s mentor would be to explain this to him. Or maybe the guards at the gate would chew him out for her. With that pleasant thought in mind, she smiled, pleased to be finally on her way.

Laren watched thoughtfully after Karigan and Condor. It seemed almost a waste to send one of her most capable Riders on so simple an errand, but the potential was there for it to turn out to be more complex than either she or the king anticipated, and they wanted Karigan on the errand because of her experience. If anything came up, she was confident Karigan could handle it, and look after Fergal, too.

And there was another reason she wanted Karigan to go on a long distance errand, one she hadn’t mentioned to Zachary. Her gaze picked out a solitary figure atop the wall that surrounded the castle grounds, his cloak billowing out around him. He watched Karigan’s progress, she knew.

Over the course of the summer, she had pieced together that the “mystery woman” who had been distracting Zachary from his kingly duty of signing Clan Coutre’s marriage contract was one of her very own Riders and not some nameless mistress tucked away in the countryside of Hillander Province.

She didn’t care if Zachary had a dozen mistresses, just so long as love did not divert him from doing the right thing: marrying Lady Estora and producing heirs. And just so long as one of those mistresses wasn’t one of her Riders.

From what Laren could tell, the attraction was dangerously mutual, and she had observed Karigan struggling with herself. For Karigan’s sake, it was best to send her away; a kindness. It would also give Zachary a chance to settle into his role of future husband to Lady Estora.

The country could not afford Zachary to be distracted by his love of a commoner—it could wreak havoc politically, and prove dangerous for Karigan. There were those who would stop at nothing to protect the Hillander-Coutre alliance. Were a commoner to interfere, there was no telling what harm could come to her no matter what her position in the king’s court. Laren would do all in her power she could to keep them apart.

Then, if that wasn’t enough, there was another matter she must address with Lady Estora—the secret they shared. The secret the Riders kept. It put Laren in an awkward position, caught between the wishes of her slain Rider, F’ryan Coblebay, and the trust of her liege lord.

She shook her head, wondering why everything had to be so bloody complicated.

TO THE HAWK’S TAIL

After Karigan and Fergal passed through the outermost city gate, Karigan reined in Condor and turned in her saddle to look behind her. While the nearness of the city wall blocked much of her view, the castle stood high enough on its hill, a small mountain really, that she had no trouble seeing its facade of bright stone against the morning sky. Tall and impregnable it stood, built by the same stonemasons who created the D’Yer Wall. The shingled roofs of the city stood gathered beneath its shadow before disappearing behind the wall.

“Be well,” she whispered, unsure of whom she addressed. The city would take care of itself, she knew, and very suddenly she felt bereft, exiled from her friends. Now outside the gates, she might as well be a hundred miles from them.

She sighed and turned away from the city only to find Fergal watching her expectantly. Being shouted at by the guards at the castle gates had not diminished his enthusiasm in the least. Karigan had informed him that not only did one not charge one’s horse across castle grounds, but there was generally no reason to rush through town, especially with all the traffic. She refused to let him trot, more out of perversity than anything else, so he challenged her order by urging Sunny into a fast walk, constantly nosing her ahead of Condor.

Sunny now had an annoyed look in her eye and shifted her stance with a definitive swish of her tail. She was probably wondering what she had done to deserve this young wiggly creature on her back instead of a highly trained cavalryman. If Fergal kept kicking her and yanking on the reins, he might get himself bucked off. The thought did not dismay Karigan in the least.

Carts rumbled around them toward the city bearing goods for market day. Farmers carried the last of the season’s harvests, including whole cartloads of bright orange pumpkins, ripe apples, and milled grain.

“You know,” Karigan said, watching another cart roll by, this one full of wine casks, “if you hadn’t been so eager to hurry out of the city, I could have shown you some shortcuts that would have gotten us here much sooner.”

The Winding Way, the main thoroughfare through Sacor City, roped around the city in lazy turns from the gates all the way up to the castle, intended by the engineers to foil the progress of an invading army. The Riders, and most city dwellers, knew how to cut down travel time by using side streets and alleys. While invaders could potentially use those same side streets, their narrowness would cause an entire army to jam up.