“The rail line was cleared and repaired that far three years ago, just before the war started. We can catch pedal cars from there, and then be anywhere on the rail net quickly, with a maximum priority to clear the track.”

Hao looked, intent. “Your route?”

He traced it. “Dúnedain explorers have covered most of this area south of Ashland, from a bit west of here to the ocean and down into California, and this should be the least troublesome—the distance is about three hundred miles as the crow flies. About seventy to a hundred more as we’ll be traveling, mostly along the old Route 140, but in summer and with plenty of horses, I wouldn’t say it’s too hard. A bit strenuous, perhaps. Seventy to a hundred miles a day.”

Ian unconsciously rubbed at his buttocks. Ritva nodded, but then she looked at the face of the Lord of the Folk of the West. Something like this was just what he needed right now.

CHARTERED CITY OF GOLDENDALE
COUNTY OF AUREA
PORTLAND PROTECTIVE ASSOCIATION
(FORMERLY CENTRAL WASHINGTON)
HIGH KINGDOM OF MONTIVAL
(FORMERLY WESTERN NORTH AMERICA)
AUGUST 25, CHANGE YEAR 25/2023 AD

“Oh, by Saint Bernadette, that’s awful!” Yseult Liu said, at the end of the story of the escape from Boise.

The Thurston girls looked at her solemnly, as they rolled the bandages and she contemplated their story of treachery and exile. They had a table to themselves in the city guildhall; apart from that, they were all doing pretty much the same work, making neat bundles of the clean linen. Nearly all the workers were women, but there was everything from gentlewomen to laborers’ daughters here, supervised by the experts from the Sisters of Compassion. It was hot and stuffy despite the size of the room and the high ceiling and the tall open windows, and her hands felt a little sore from the frequent dips into disinfectant.

The bandages went onto wheeled trays that others pushed around, taken off to the ones who’d sterilize them in autoclaves, seal and label them and then pack them for shipment to the warehouses where they awaited the need.

Soon, Yseult thought with a slight shiver. The Grand Constable is already fighting in the east. It’s getting closer. Huon will be there soon.

“Uh . . . yeah,” Shawonda said. “The Cutters are awful. They . . . they sort of warp things around them. Like contagious miserable badness. It’s scary!”

Yseult nodded vigorously, though she didn’t add the thoughts about demonic influences that naturally occurred to her. She wasn’t under any illusions about why it had been suggested that she take the Thurston daughters under her wing. It was a first installment on her future status as lady-in-waiting to the High Queen, even if she still wore her oblate’s robe and worked at a medical task.