"What way?" he asked, suspiciously, rubbing his jaw and watching my hands.

"Why, you were partly right. I shall need someone to look after the stock, to choose the right bloodlines for Hadron's horses, to care for them, to train them to harness and saddle. Surely you and Jamie are best suited."

"But what of you?"

I laughed. "I shall be gone, Walther. If you see me once in the year it will be more than I expect. But I do not renounce my inheritance; I am still Hadron's heir, still the possessor of his house and lands and all his goods. But I shall need funds." I stared hard at him. "This is what I propose, Walther. When the hands are paid and the year's accounts settled, any profits will be divided three ways, one share each to you, me and Jamie. I shall simply ask Jamie to keep my shares for me until I return to claim them. That way we are all three equals, you need not work for me and you will soon have enough to marry Alisonde. Now, does that suit? Or do I send you back to your father as you stand?"

He could not speak, so he nodded. "Very well," I continued." I shall want a portion of the available moneys to see me on my way, and I shall take with me a third of the profits from the fair. Is it a bargain?"

He didn't move, so in the country fashion I spat in my palm and held out my open hand to him. He did the same and took mine in a daze. Well he might—in payment for an empty proposal meant to manipulate a weakling, he had received a decking and a secure future. I’d have been dazed, too.

I was awake all night preparing a contract for us three to sign, though I had to read it to Walther in the morning and help him make his mark. I had carefully put my few belongings into an old pack with my clothing and wrapped a good portion of silver in a pair of saddlebags. Jamie and I left before dawn with the hands and the horses.

I was happier than I could remember being.

The way was long from my father's farm.

Illara, where the great fair was held, lay a long way east and a little south of Hadronsstead; we would be travelling the best part of a fortnight. Thankfully, old King Tershet of Ilsa was not yet in his dotage—there were not as many Patrols around as there might have been, but there Were a few still out on the highways to keep order.

At the end of the first day's travel I had been awake for two full days. We found a clear dry place by the edge of a wood on a little hill; with the last of my strength I helped tend the horses, inhaled Jamie's stew and slept like a dead thing.

The next morning was a mixed blessing. I woke gently, lying on my back, to the lightening sky above me and the sweet sounds of waking birds all around. There was a smell on the dawn wind that spoke of winter's coming, and an elusive scent of late wild roses caught at my heart. The sun was nearly up, a bright clear glow in the east behind the trees. I rolled over and stood up, surprised at how stiff I was. I had ridden all day since I was a child, and worked long hard hours, but I had never slept on the hard ground in the chill of early autumn afterwards. It made me swiftly and deeply aware of the distance I had travelled already, which was nothing that could be measured in leagues.

Jamie was already up and making the fire. He grinned at me. "Groan away, lass, you've the right, but don't expect any sympathy from me. You're the one always said you wanted to see the world! There's a stream down there," he added, pointing down the hill. "It's' good and fresh. The lads have taken the horses down for a drink, but I could use more water myself. Just you take those buckets upstream a ways and fetch me some, and I’ll have breakfast ready when you've done."

I might have protested at being ordered about if I had been awake, but Jamie knew me far too well. By the time I was aware enough to object, I was at the stream.

I had a black moment there. Stiff as I was, it had somehow not occurred to me before. Only as I knelt at the side of the water did I understand in my chilly bones that I would not see a hot bath for weeks. I suspect it was just as well I had something else to do before I saw Jamie again. My mind was delighted beyond words at being gone from Hadronsstead, but so far my body was not entirely convinced.

When I returned to the tire, though, I had a little surprise for Jamie. I had planned it for ages; indeed, when I was a child I dressed in that fashion most of the time. I had made the clothes in secret soon after Hadron died, and now I was looking forward to a little gentle revenge. When I returned to the fire Jamie looked up and stared. I was dressed as he was, in woolen leggings and good stout boots and a long-sleeved wool tunic that, belted, came some inches below my knee. No skirts, no shoes that smacked of delicacy, no fine linen showing (though I kept my good shirt on beneath the wool), and my hair bundied up under a shapeless hat.

He said nothing at first, but he had the strangest look in his eyes, as though he saw a memory rather than me. Finally he said, "Good idea. Better to ride in, at any rate, and other travellers will have to look twice to know you're a woman."

That was the idea, of course; but somehow it hurt to hear that from Jamie. Still, I was comfortable and sensibly dressed for riding, and I had seldom asked more of clothing.

We had the luck of the weather when we started out; it held fine for the first few days. I delighted in waking every morning to find myself farther and farther from the places I knew. I gazed about me every moment, cherishing the changes of the land as it grew more and more unfamiliar, the smells and sounds of unknown places. The hills around and about Hadronsstead began to give way to great plains. Much of the land was farmed—we stayed with the horses in one or two barns on the way—but some was yet untamed. The wild grasses grew high, now brown with autumn and heavy with seed. Usually we all slept under the stars, Jamie, the lads and me, and as the night wind blew through the grass I heard the voice of Kolmar whispering a welcome. The ground was hard and I still woke sometimes with a stiff back, but I was so glad to find myself on my way at last that I tried not to complain.

To my surprise, it was hard not to. No matter that I had tried to imagine the hardships of a journey as well as the pleasures—I had simply never been for longer than a day without the comforts of a well-appointed farmhouse, and I missed them. I had never realised what it truly meant to have four walls about me and a roof over my head. There was safety and warmth and comfort there, cleanliness and good order. Here on the road there was much to wonder at and enjoy, and so I did—but in those first days I was perilously close to complaining.

I found, too, that by the end of the first week I was looking about with a different eye. I began to grow nervous, checking constantly over my shoulder for I could not tell what. Jamie noticed but he never said anything.

After two more days of this I was ready to scream. Were all my dreams to come to this, a useless woman afraid of her own shadow, longing for her safe farm and searching always for something unknown? I could bear it no longer. I pulled up alongside Jamie. We had not spoken much lately, and I knew it was because he was waiting for me. Blast him.

"Well, then?" I asked. "Well what, lass?"

"You know what I mean. What in the Hells is this, Jamie? I keep looking for something and it's never there."

"Aye, so I've seen." He smiled gently. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"No! And if I don't find it out soon I shall go quite insane and start biting the horses. If you know what it is I wish you'd tell me!"

He rode on in silence for a minute or so, then said quietly, "I’m afraid it's the walls of Hadronsstead you're missing, my lass."