He set a hard pace, but not the grueling one of the previous day. And they did, indeed, spend that night in what Dallen had called a “Waystation,” a one-room structure reserved for Heralds traveling or “on circuit,” whatever that meant. Though small, it was stoutly built, and comfortable once they got a fire going on the hearth. Jakyr proved as much of a disaster at cooking as Dallen had foretold, and although Mags did not know a great deal about it, after the first two pies were burnt past the point where even he would eat them, he firmly evicted the older man from the hearth and took over the warming of the pies and the making of pease-porridge himself. Fortunately, Jakyr had not done too much damage to the pease-porridge before Mags intercepted him.

The remainder of the journey was uneventful and unvarying. They rose about dawn, whether they stayed in a Guard Post, a Waystation, or—rarely—in an inn. Mags cooked at need, Jakyr cut firewood, both tended their Companions, with Mags getting better at it all the time. Jakyr did not speak much; Mags got the sense he had something on his mind that had nothing to do with him. And in a way he felt isolated, but he was also relieved. So much of his time in life had been spent in silence that he was often hard-pressed to make the kind of conversation the Guards they stayed with found so easy.

But finally, after Mags had lost count of the days and nights—which wasn’t hard, with all of them being much alike—Jakyr finally gestured to him to come up alongside and spoke.

“We’re less than a candlemark from Haven,” he said, his eyes on the road ahead except for a single side glance at Mags. “Now, you know what that is, right?”

Mags nodded. Between his own reading and Dallen’s memories, he did indeed know what Haven was. The capital of Valdemar, where the King lived, and where the Heralds were headquartered. Dallen’s memory also gave him various views of the city, which must be bewildering and confusing; Mags could hardly imagine that many people all crammed together in one place.

“Now, I will get you to the Palace and the new Collegium. I’ll make sure someone takes charge of you. Whoever it is, obey him. Or her. What I told the Guard is nothing less than the truth; there is a situation to the east that I am the best person to handle, so handle it I must. I don’t like to abandon you in a strange place, but I don’t have a choice.”

Mags nodded, not really sure of what he was feeling. True, Jakyr was the only person he knew here, but it wasn’t as if Jakyr was his bosom friend. “I’ll get by,” he said, since the Herald seemed to be waiting for him to say something.