“Ur is a long journey,” he added. “A good three-day ride west and north. You will have to cross Escalon alone. You will have to ride quickly, by stealth, and avoid the roads. Word will soon spread of what has happened here—and Pandesian lords will be wrathful. The roads will be dangerous—you will stick to the woods. Ride north, find the sea, and keep it in view. It shall be your compass. Follow its coastline, and you will find Ur. Stay away from villages, stay away from people. Do not stop. Tell no one where you are going. Speak to no one.”

He grabbed her shoulders firmly and his eyes darkened with urgency, scaring her.

“Do you understand me?” he implored. “It is a dangerous journey for any man—much less for a girl alone. I can spare no one to accompany you. I need you to be strong enough to do this alone. Are you?”

She could hear the fear in his voice, the love of a concerned father torn, and she nodded back, feeling pride that he would trust her with such a quest.

“I am, Father,” she said proudly.

He studied her, then finally nodded, as if satisfied. Slowly, his eyes welled with tears.

“Of all my men,” he said, “of all these warriors, you are the one I need the most. Not your brothers, and not even my trusted soldiers. You are the one, the only one, who can win this war.”

Kyra felt confused and overwhelmed; she did not fully understand what he meant. She opened her mouth to ask him—when suddenly she sensed motion approaching.

She turned to see Baylor, her father’s master of horse, approaching with his usual smile. A short, overweight man with thick eyebrows and stringy hair, he approached them with his customary swagger and smiled at her, then looked to her father, as if awaiting his approval.

Her father nodded to him, and Kyra wondered what was going on, as Baylor turned to her.

“I’m told you’ll be taking a journey,” Baylor said, his voice nasal. “For that, you’ll need a horse.”

Kyra frowned, confused.

“I have a horse,” she replied, looking over at the fine horse she’d ridden during the battle with the Lord’s Men, tied up across the courtyard.

Baylor smiled.

“That’s not a horse,” he said.

Baylor looked to her father and her father nodded, and Kyra tried to understand what was happening.

“Follow me,” he said, and without waiting, he suddenly turned and strode off for the stables.

Kyra watched him go, confused, then looked to her dad. He nodded back.

“Follow him,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”

*