The hostels were an innovation of Alessandar’s, and were meant to serve as a courtesy to those moving about his Kingdom on official business. They were rather like well-run inns, save that there was no fee. Court officials, envoys of other Kingdoms, and clergy were permitted unlimited use of these facilities.

They first reported their progress to one of the relay stations in a village along the way, as had been requested. The station was easy enough to find, as it towered over every other structure in the village.

“Will ye be stayin’ here, or movin’ on past dark?” asked the grizzled veteran who greeted them.

“Moving on,” Talia replied, “We plan on making—Keeper’s Crossing, was it?” She looked to Kris for confirmation.

He checked the map and nodded.

“That’s a ways—but you know best. Guess the tales ‘bout them horses o’ yours must be true.” He looked over Rolan and Tantris with an appraising and approving eye. “Useta be cavalry, meself. Can’t say I’ve ever seen neater beasts. Ye came all the way from the Border since this mornin’?”

Rolan and Tantris preened under his admiring gaze and curvetted a little, showing off. “That we did, sir,” Kris answered with a smile.

“Don’t look winded—don’t even look tired—just exercised a mite. Lord Sun, I’d not have believed it if I hadn’t a’ seen it. Well if ye can make that kinda time, ye’ll be at the Crossings ’bout a candlemark after sunset. Hostel’s in the town square, right-hand side as you come in.”

“Many thanks,” Talia called as they turned the Companions’ heads back to the road.

“Fair wind at yer back!” he called after them, his admiring gaze following them until they were out of sight.

The hostel was indeed like an inn, complete with innkeeper. They had been told that the accommodations were as plain as the food, but adequate.

They showed their credentials to the businesslike Hostelmaster when they dismounted at the door. He examined them quite carefully, paying close attention to the seals of Valdemar and Hardorn. When he was satisfied that they were genuine, he summoned a stableboy with a single word. The lad came at a run to take the Companions, and the Hostelmaster waved them inside.

The common room was hot, smoky, and crowded, and it took them a little time to find themselves places at smooth, worn wooden trestle-tables. Finally Talia squeezed in beside a pair of travelers in priestly garb—apparently from the rival sects of Kindas Sun-Kindler and Tembor Earth-Shaker. They were having a spirited discussion of the deficiencies of their various congregations and simply nodded to her as she took her place on the very end of the bench. Kris sat opposite her, with his neighbor a thin, clerkly-looking sort with ink-stained fingers, whose sole interest was the contents of the stoneware platter in front of him.