Law of the Broken Earth(125)

“It’s a pity your lord cousin is stuck away up in Tihannad and won’t be waiting to scold us for our adventures and send for healers and hot soup and warm blankets,” Tan said, having evidently guessed the trend of Mienthe’s thoughts.

“You don’t suppose… you don’t think…”

“Never in life, Mie. Even if he’s settled whatever difficulty it is with the griffins, he’d never be so lost to sense as to take the Sierhanan road.”

Somehow this reassurance seemed more decisive and solid when Tan said it aloud than when Mienthe only whispered it to herself. She nodded, feeling happier, and then at last they came around the curve of the road and the woodlands fell away to wet pasturelands and unplowed muddy fields and scattered farmhouses. Farther on, the farms gave way to the outermost sprawl of the town, and beyond that they could just make out the city proper, all washed slate and painted cypress and gleaming cobbles. It took a surprising effort for Mienthe to suppress the strong urge she felt to lift her horse into a canter and race down the center of the road, straight for the great house.

That wild ride might almost have been safe. There was no sign of any Linularinan force. It occurred to Mienthe only after some moments that of course the Arobern had known the road was clear; he had scouts of his own way out, after all. She said tentatively to Tan, “Do you suppose the Linularinan soldiers have all gone back across the bridge?”

Tan flashed her a smile that was only a little strained. “We shall hope so.”

He almost hoped they hadn’t, Mienthe understood. Of them all, Tan was the least eager to arrive, while no one but she seemed to feel this driving need for haste. But… Trust your gift and yourself, Tan had said to her, and though Mienthe thought she was probably foolishly impatient, she looked for the Arobern so she could ask whether they might press their pace to something a little less deliberate.

“We’ll make haste, yes, but slowly,” the Arobern told her. His tone was absent, but kind. He looked past her as he spoke, watching the road, watching the empty farmlands, studying the town they were approaching. “I thought they might get out and away across the river, but now I think they are there in the town, those Linularinan enemies of ours, you see? This country”—he made a broad gesture that encompassed the woods behind them and the cleared land near Tiefenauer and the town itself—“it is too empty. This is not peace we ride into, but a silence of waiting—ah. Do you see? Now we will find out what is there.”

A small group of men had come warily up to the edge of the road to meet them. Farmers, Mienthe thought, and maybe a tradesman or two from the town. They stared at the banners, especially the Delta oak. And they looked at her, as the Arobern drew his horse up and waved a broad hand, signaling Mienthe to put herself in the forefront of the company. She was a little surprised, but only momentarily, for the militia companies were clearly pleased by his gesture and the waiting men as clearly reassured by it. The militia dipped their banners to her. Mienthe hoped she did not blush.

The men stepped up on the road to meet her, nodding respectfully and glancing warily past her at the Arobern, waiting beneath the blue-and-purple Casmantian banner. Mienthe thought they would not recognize her, that they might not trust her, but instead one of the townsmen came forward another half step and said, “Lady Mienthe, you won’t remember me, I suppose. I’m Jeseth son of Tamanes. A glazier. I did the windows of the solar up at the great house for your cousin. That was some years ago—”

“I do remember!” Mienthe exclaimed. She did. She recognized the man’s broad, weathered face and kindly eyes and short grizzled beard; seeing him here was like a promise of homecoming. She said, “You fixed my window, too, when I broke it.” She had been fourteen, and bent on rescuing a fledgling green jay that had got its foot tangled in the flowering vines outside her room. The poor creature had dangled helplessly upside down, cheeping piteously, but Mienthe had freed it easily. She hadn’t slipped and broken the window until its frantic parents had startled her, diving to protect their young one.

“I did,” said the glazier, smiling at her. “You showed me the little bird, which the esteemed Iriene had just fixed its leg. You had a scratch on your cheek where its mama had pecked you, and lucky she hadn’t got your eye.”

Mienthe blushed.

“It’s good to see you safe,” said the glazier. His gaze went past her, to the Casmantian banner. “You are safe, are you, lady?”

Mienthe blushed again, but nodded firmly.

“Well, and it’s a strong ally you’ve brought trailing home at your heel. Which that is an ally, is it?”