“Not that I know of,” Dorrin said. Ahead, as the last fields petered out, thick brushy growth clothed the land from ground level to the height of two men. One of the scouts rode over to meet them.

“The track ahead is just wide enough for a team; it’s rough, muddy, potholed, and perfect for an ambush. And on flank, we’ll be crashing through that brush, if we can even ride at all.”

Far in the distance, behind them, cattle mooed and a cock crowed. Close at hand, the land was silent. Dorrin looked at the open land to either side of the track, rumpled and pocked with burrows. Natural? It didn’t have the look of a rabbit warren—it looked like a trap for outriders who tried to outflank an attack on the road.

“If they intend ambushes from the flank, they will have ways to travel parallel to the road. We’ll pull the forward scouts back a little—stay in sight—and the flankers find their trails. If it’s a force smaller than ours, do nothing to alarm them; if you can get past, block the trail beyond them and be ready to take them in the rear or flank.”

The brush thickened into unkempt forest. Suddenly, a group of men on horseback rushed out from the bushes to bar the road. They wore Verrakai-blue tunics and steel breastplates and helmets, and carried crossbows and swords. “You’re trespassing,” said their leader. “Turn back, or die …” His voice trailed away as the rest of the column came into view. “Who—who are you?”

Dorrin would have laughed at his expression, but this man—these men—were her people now. “I’m Duke Verrakai,” she said.

“You’re—? No! You’re not the Duke … you have a look of his family, but—”

“By order of the crown prince and Council of Tsaia, I am now Duke Verrakai. You see my escort from the Royal Guard.”

“But—but where is he? Duke—the real duke?”

“He’s dead,” Dorrin said. “High treason against the person of the crown prince. These—” She gestured at the Royal Guard. “—are my escort from the crown prince, evidence of the legitimacy of my claim.”

“That can’t be right,” the man said. “Our duke a traitor? I don’t believe it! And even if it were so, the prince wouldn’t appoint a woman duke. Women aren’t dukes. And the others—that’s a troop of Phelan’s, the Red Fox.”

“They’re in my hire,” Dorrin said. “You see that by the blue armbands and saddlecloths I told them to put on. As for the other—I am Duke Verrakai, by his and the Council’s order.” She pulled the ducal chain out from under her cloak and swung the medallion so it caught the light. His jaw dropped and he stared. “Now—who are you and by what orders do you challenge travelers?”

“We’re … we’re Verrakai militia,” the man said. “The Duke told us what he always does, when he went to Vérella just after Midwinter Feast. Guard the borders well, he said, keep the rabble out and the domain safe and unsullied until my return, he said. There was bad trouble over across the other side, maybe seven hands of days ago. But we’d been told to stay this side, so we did.”