“Just over this rise is the millwright Ethan Finlin’s windmill,” Royce explained. “Finlin is a member of the Diamond. His windmill is used to store smuggled goods and also serves as a signal that can be seen from the far hills. If the mill’s sails are spinning, then all is clear. If furled, then there’s trouble. The position of the locked sails indicates different things. If straight up and down, like a ship’s mast, it means he needs help. If the sails are cockeyed, it means stay away. There are other signals as well, but I’m sure they’ve changed since I was a member.”

“All clear,” Etcher notified them as he strode back down the hill.

They each took a pack, waved goodbye to Wally, and climbed up the slope.

Finlin’s mill was a tall weathered tower that sat high on the crest of a grassy knoll. The windmill’s cap rotated and currently faced into the wind, which blew steadily from the northeast. Its giant sails of cloth-covered wooden frames rotated slowly, creaking as they turned the great mill’s shaft. Around the windmill were several smaller buildings, storage sheds, and wagons. The place was quiet and absent of customers.

They found their horses, as well as an extra one for Etcher, along with their gear in a nearby barn. Finlin briefly stuck his nose out of the mill and waved. They waved back, and Royce had a short talk with Etcher as Hadrian saddled their animals and loaded the supplies. Arista threw her own saddle on her mare, which garnered a smile from Hadrian.

“Saddle your own horse often, do you?” he asked as she reached under the horse’s belly for the cinch. The metal ring at the end of the wide band swung back and forth, making catching it a challenge without crawling under the animal.

“I’m a princess, not an invalid.”

She caught the cinch and looped the leather strap through it, tying what she thought was a fine knot, exactly like the one she used to tie her hair.

“Can I make one minor suggestion?”

She looked up. “Of course.”

“You need to tie it tighter and use a flat knot.”

“That’s two suggestions. Thanks, but I think it’ll be fine.”

He reached up and pulled on the saddle’s horn. The saddle easily slid off and came to rest between the horse’s legs.

“But it was tight.”