Kronmir took his mare, originally provided by the Duchess of Venike in what seemed like another time and another world, and a spare horse given him by the Hillman, Gilchrist, and he was away. It was a little like fleeing the not-dead dragon; if he allowed himself nostalgia, he could imagine the duchess riding beside him.

He did not allow himself nostalgia.

He covered three ridges in less than two hours, and found the company’s pioneers just planting the little banners that marked a camp. They waved him to the rear, and less than a league on he found the two commanders with Conte Simone of Berona on a little knoll above a stream, watching the army march by.

He dismounted and bowed.

Ser Alison waved him forward. “From Favour?” she asked.

“Yes, my captain,” he said.

She grinned. “You and I may yet be friends. Say your piece.”

“My ladies, before terce we made contact with the duchess’s rangers. They report that the Patriarch is less than fifty leagues hence; south, toward Firensi. The Duke of Mitla is behind his entrenchments and under observation.”

All three of the commanders dismounted. He extracted his wax tablets from his saddle pouch and drew a map.

“Ser Daniel will push forward but will not make contact until ordered. With the Patriarch. Captain Lorenzo will continue to observe the Duke of Mitla.” Kronmir bowed.

“Eh?” Ser Alison raised an eyebrow.

“My lady, we assumed you would go for the Patriarch before he can join the duke.” He looked at her, and then at the duchess, who winked, warming his heart absurdly.

“You guessed right, for all you are is a hired killer, Ser.” She looked at him as if he were a particularly loathsome insect. Then she grinned. “Best news I’ve heard in a week. You willing to ride all the way back?”

“I am, but Ser Daniel thought you’d want me as a guide.”

“I have the duchess as a guide.” She looked at him as if buying a horse.

The duchess smiled at him. “As we were together the last time we passed these ridges,” she said.

Kronmir bowed. “I can reach him before the last light if I ride now.”

“Tell Ser Daniel I am behind you. We will not halt or camp if we can reach the old imperial road before dark.” She looked at Giselle, who nodded.

“We can,” she said.

Ser Alison nodded. “Then tell him to cover the crossroads . . .” She looked at Kronmir’s wax map and then snapped her fingers and her squire unrolled a chart on parchment. “San Bastide is the third town on the pilgrim itinerary,” she said, looking at a scroll. “Between Fortalice and Mitla.”

“That’s San Bastide,” the duchess said. She reached over Ser Alison’s shoulder and pointed with her dagger. “Where the Via Etrusca turns to come here. And the Berona road crosses the river.”

The two women smiled at each other.