“No. It doesn’t. And I don’t know what we’re riding into, or what condition Bee is in. Which is why I don’t think either of you should be accompanying me.” The words felt like stones as they fell from my lips.
Lant spoke up suddenly from my other side. “Well, whatever you do know, I’d like to know as well. Did you receive more tidings since we last spoke? I’ve only Lord Chade’s directive that I follow you.”
I spoke more to the boy than to him. “We’ve had reports of her captors riding toward the coast. The ship they hoped to escape on has been seized. We believe we know the path they intend, and the king’s forces are on their way to cut them off. We may discover her captors before they do. Or after. In either case, I know I must be there.” I recounted the details tersely. Then we all rode silently for a time.
When Per spoke, his words came slowly. “So. We’re actually riding ahead of your guard, aren’t we? Are you hoping to get to the soldiers and Bee before the king’s soldiers do? You hope we can fight them and rescue her ourselves?”
“That would be insane!” Lant declared. “There were at least a score of mercenaries, not counting the pale folk.”
Per had a more pragmatic worry. “All I’ve brought with me is my belt-knife.”
Lant snorted. “Lad, we are not going to charge into a band of trained mercenary soldiers with nothing but your belt-knife and FitzChivalry’s axe. I’m sure he has a better intention than that.”
But I didn’t.
Lying was suddenly too much effort and rather pointless. “I don’t have a plan, really. When and if I locate them, I’ll decide what to do. And that is why you should both go back. Now.” I turned to look at Lant. “Ride with my guard tomorrow. You can let Foxglove know that I’ve ridden ahead to scout. That would actually be a very useful thing for you to do, if you’d carry that message to Foxglove for me.”
Lant appeared to consider it. I hoped it would offer him a dignified way out of following me into what was, truly, an ill-considered venture. For that brief time, there was only the sound of the horses’ hooves on the packed snow of the road, the creaking of saddle leather, and the wind shushing as it smoothed the coverlet of snow that covered the meadow. I looked at the distant trees and then at the sky. Overcast. No snow tonight, I hoped fervently.
We topped a small rise and looked down the broad moving waters of the Buck River. The edges of the moving water were frozen but a stripe of dark water still showed at the center of the current. Just past that crossing I’d leave the road and cut across country. I could see the trail I’d follow. I watched a farmer’s wagon pulled by a heavy team of grays come down to the ferry on the other side. Good timing. There were three houses and a barn and several large pens on the far side of the river. The ferry was a rickety old one, used mostly by farmers and shepherds wanting to move flocks. We rode down to the splintery timbers of the landing and sat our horses in silence as the ferry bumped and sloshed its way across to us. I glanced at my companions. Lant looked dismayed and Per uncertain. The nose of the ferry dock was coated with ice. Priss bridled as we approached it.
The ferry slowly drew closer and then thumped against the landing. A lad leapt off and made it fast, first one line and then the other. The wagon driver lifted a hand in greeting and nodded to us without curiosity as his team stoically thudded across the wooden timbers of the landing. The wagon followed with a lurch and a thud. The sounds of the creaking wagon and the rushing river masked the hoofbeats of another horse. Only my Wit made me turn to see who came.
Yes. I could have more problems today.
“Fitz!” Riddle exclaimed, half-angrily, as he pulled in a rangy white gelding. “What are you thinking, to bring these two? Lant should be resting and healing! And that lad is no more than a boy!”
“I didn’t ‘bring’ them. They’ve followed me.” I took in the light leather armor he wore under his heavy wool cloak. The sword he bore was nothing like the elegant gentleman’s accessory that graced Lant’s hip. Riddle was dressed for serious fighting. “Nettle sent you?” I guessed.
He dropped his head guiltily. “No. She doesn’t know I’ve gone. I told her I wanted to ride with you tomorrow and she agreed to that. Reluctantly. When I couldn’t find you and the roan was gone from the stables, I knew. And here I am.” His expression changed abruptly. “Thank El! I’m so tired of sitting and waiting and worrying.”
Any fears that he’d been sent to bring me back were dispersed. I returned his grin despite my effort to restrain it. “You are going to confront a very angry woman when you get back to Buckkeep Castle.”