“Garranon says it’s possible that Jakoven will launch an attack on Hurog immediately,” said Duraugh. “Is it really safe to bring Kellen there? The gate was off the curtain wall when we overnighted in Hurog on our way to rescue you.”

“Right,” I agreed. “I’ve two good men working on the ironwork for Hurog—I suspect that the gate and a gatehouse or at least a portcullis will have climbed to the top of their list of things to do. Stala was left expecting the worst. I trust she’ll have something devised by the time we arrive. Were this summer we’d be in trouble, but by now the snow is knee deep there. With your men from Iftahar, we can hold off a besieging army for a week—and southern-bred men in tents won’t survive a week at Hurog.”

“I can help, too,” murmured Oreg, who’d led the boy close enough to overhear.

I shot him a repressing look. “Magesare always useful in such situations.”

Duraugh said, “If the weather’s not bad enough at Hurog, you’re going to have to see if your dwarves can transport Kellen away. They may not want to involve themselves in a human dispute.”

“Dwarves?” said Kellen, startled.

Tosten grinned. “They owe Ward a favor or two.”

MYUNCLE GUIDED US THROUGH A FEW HARVESTEDfields and onto a track I’d never taken to Hurog.

Stala’s second, a Shavigman by the name of Ydelbrot, led the men and organized the march. At my uncle’s request, I trotted Feather over to Ydelbrot and told him we needed to make as much speed as possible since the king might be “just a wee bit miffed that we took off with Kellen and Tychis.”

He grinned and nodded. “Wouldn’t want to be overrun by a Tallvenish army on Tallven soil.”

I smiled, but in truth I was more worried about how much blood Jakoven had taken out of Tychis’s wrist and just what he could get Farsonsbane to do with it.

The whole column broke into a trot. I held Feather as it passed me, swinging in to ride next to my brother—who happened to be behind Tisala. She was riding next to Tychis.

“He looks like Tosten at that age,” said Oreg, coming up to us and pointing at Tychis—who bounced so much, I winced in sympathy. Tisala leaned over and talked to him and he stood up in his stirrups. I could almost hear his horse’s sigh of relief.

“I was never so scrawny,” disagreed Tosten stoutly, but with such good humor, I turned in my saddle to stare at him. He and Oreg seemed to be getting on much better since they’d organized my rescue.