They marched out the gate and over the moat at dawn, onto a path that led onward into the eastern region of the Moonrise Hills. The archon and a number of local officials and favored hangers-on trailed them. Lesser folk were chased away by sentinels, but they tagged along as close as they were able, eager to watch the departure of the exalted highness. Not for them the touch of a prince’s hand upon the heads of their precious children. The archon didn’t allow it, a woman jealous of her privileges. She even brought out her daughter in a pretty garment, all ribbons and pearls like a bauble, but Elen saw anxiety in the girl’s face and wondered what it was, exactly, that the girl feared.

She couldn’t solve every problem. Right now, she had enough on her platter, even if she would have gladly eaten that last hunk of excellent bread. Fortunately, they’d been supplied with bread and cheese for the day’s journey, so there was hope for a decent repast later in the day. There was another bottle of cloudberry brew, too, which Fulmo stowed in his pack.

The haunt said something to Simo about the copper mines and shushed him when he tried to answer, as if he’d just noticed they were within hearing of their escort. The archon and her escort halted when they reached the sheds that stank of fish. Perhaps the archon couldn’t bear the smell, although she had to be used to it by now.

After the drying sheds, they passed empty sheds where winter-caught fish would be filleted, hung to freeze, and stored in sealed pots underground. The gardens had been turned over for the winter and vulnerable perennials covered with straw. The air was brisk but the sky clear; no snow tonight, but the first falls would come soon.

A long boardwalk crossed a strip of marshy ground at the eastern end of the valley. Past this stood a waypost with a census marker. They were now officially outside the archon’s jurisdiction, as Luviara remarked to the others.

“That may be true as written,” said Elen, “but her reach extends pretty far in these hills. There’s not much out here except hamlets with goats and sheep who depend on Fisherman’s Rest for winter and early-spring supplies. Two days on from here there are copper mines. It’s so isolated it’s difficult to feed and house the miners, so the operations have stayed small. Or maybe the archon likes it that way. Pisgia Moat has a smaller census population than Orledder Halt, but she retains a larger force of sentinels. I don’t think it’s because of brigands or swalters. In my observation, it’s to control the mines.”