“You make it sound easy.”
She squeezed his hand. “It is easy. You’re ready for this, and they will both see that very soon.”
Moria was watching Ashyn. Her sister rode to the side, far enough from the others that it was clear she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but close enough to Moria that Simeon wouldn’t pounce. The young scholar had taken a fancy to Ashyn, one which her sister did not reciprocate. Moria wanted to warn him off.
“He’s lonely,” Ashyn had said. “He’s not blessed with social graces, so he’s having difficulty fitting in. I don’t mind talking to him sometimes. Just not…”
“All the time?”
“I can handle it.”
As for her sister’s distant mood, Moria knew the causes. The situation with the monks was one. Ronan was another. He was still with them – secretly guarding them – and that upset Ashyn. He’d behaved poorly, leading her on and then pretending he hadn’t. Disingenuous and dishonorable. But what did one expect from a thief?
Moria had not objected to a romance between them. If Ashyn wanted an illicit dalliance with a rogue, she could have done worse than Ronan. Moria would mourn the loss with her, but if this was how he treated Ashyn, he did not deserve her.
“And there it is,” Tyrus said, snapping Moria’s thoughts back. “Fairview.”
She looked up to see the white-plastered town shimmering in the distance, and her heart beat faster.
Tyrus rode to the front of the convoy, saying, “That’s close enough. Light the fires.”
There was no need of campfires on a warm spring day. They were for the smoke, which would be seen from Fairview, alerting the guards inside to the envoy’s presence.
“Are you ready?” Tyrus said as he rode back to her.
Moria lowered her voice. “If I ask you again to allow me to go without you —”
“No.”
“But —”
“No.” He brought his horse closer. “This isn’t a matter of what is expected of me, but what I expect of myself. You worry that, by going with you, I present a target Alvar may be unable to resist. But if he kills me without cause, my father will kill Gavril. My father has other sons. Alvar does not.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“I know.” He took her hand and laced her fingers with his. “You are thinking of me not of politics, and I…” He released her hand and backed his horse away. “I do appreciate it. Now, if you’re ready…”
She was.
THIRTEEN
Two of the warriors ordered to stand watch were mounted archers. Traditionally, warriors had fought only with blades and considered other weapons the province of hunters and farmers, which left imperial forces at a disadvantage facing armies with ranged weapons. Even once the mounted archer troop began, the stigma had remained until the mounted archers had begun performing at festivals. Then it became an exalted position, with boys training from the time they could hold a bow.
The task of these two archers, then, was to guard Tyrus from afar, ready to loose their arrows on any attackers. Only the counselors accompanied the prince and the girls, though at twenty paces to act in an auxiliary capacity.
As they rode, Moria kept her gaze fixed on that distant town. The beasts did, too – Tova sniffing the air, Daigo’s ears forward. It stayed silent and still. A town held captive.
“Do you truly think the children are there?” Ashyn whispered.
Tyrus’s shoulders twitched, and Moria knew he’d been as focused on Fairview, the question an unwelcome interruption. But he found his civility before answering.
“I believe the chance is good,” Tyrus said. “If not in the town, then close to it.”
“We ought to be quiet,” Moria said. “Silence will help us hear preparations within.”
“Of course,” Tyrus said. “My apologies.”
He’d know she was not rebuking him. He took the blame to deflect it from Ashyn. Always honorable. Always considerate.
I could lose my heart to him.
The thought startled her. As she watched him, though, she wasn’t merely admiring a handsome young warrior. She wanted to be with him. And she wanted more from him.
Yet he was satisfied with friendship. It was a new experience for Moria – not simply to have found someone who might capture her heart, but to have her interest not reciprocated. It was a lesson she supposed every girl had to learn. One may fall for a boy, and he may not fall in return.
She turned her attention back to Fairview. A wall encircled it, twice as tall as a man. Guard towers squatted on either side of the main gate, but unlike the simple platforms at Edgewood, these were boxed shelters. She squinted, trying to see guards within. Tyrus pointed at the tower on the left, motioning for her to look on the far right side. She could just make out the pale fabric of a tunic within. As they drew closer, she noted a figure in the second tower as well. Both sentinels watched from deep in the shadows of their shelters. The gate itself was closed, with no one standing guard.
“They’ve gone in,” Tyrus murmured. “Saw us coming, retreated, and shut tight the gate.”
Moria understood the strategy, but Ashyn asked, “Why?”
“It forces us to draw nearer,” Tyrus said. “If they come to meet us, our archers can cover us. If we are forced to knock at the gates, with their guards posted above…”
“The gates are shrouded in shadow from the afternoon sun,” Ashyn said. “So the archers will have a difficult time reacting swiftly and accurately.”