Then the day came when a new column was spotted riding up behind Debegri's force. We almost missed them, for we had also begun staying in a tight group. But luckily Khesot, cautious since his days in the terrible Pirate Wars, still sent pairs of scouts on rounds in all four directions twice a day. It was Seliar, of my group, who spotted them first. She reported to me, and the rest of us crept down the hillside to watch the camp below. We saw at the head of the column a man wearing a long black cloak.
Debegri emerged, bowed. The newcomer bowed in return and handed the Baron a rolled paper. They went inside Debegri's tent, and when they emerged, the stranger had the white plume of leadership on his helm. Debegri's glower was plain even at the distance we watched from.
Backing up from our vantage, we retreated to our camp.
Bran and Khesot and the other riding leaders were all gathered under our old, patched rain cover when we reached them. Seliar blurted out what we'd seen.
Branaric grinned all through the story. At the end I said, "This is obviously no surprise. What news had you?"
Bran nodded to where a mud-covered young woman sat in front of one of the tents, attacking a bowl of stew as if she hadn't eaten in a week. "Messenger just arrived from Azmus, or it would have been a surprise. Galdran has taken his cousin off the command. He'd apparently expected us to last two weeks at most."
"Well, who is this new commander? Ought we to be afraid?"
Bran's grin widened until he laughed. "Here's the jest: He's none other than the Marquis of Shevraeth, heir to the Renselaeus principality. According to Azmus, all he ever thinks about are clothes, horse racing, and gambling. And did I mention clothes?"
Everyone roared with laughter.
"We'll give two weeks," I crowed. "And then we'll send him scurrying back to his tailor.
Debegri emerged, bowed. The newcomer bowed in return and handed the Baron a rolled paper. They went inside Debegri's tent, and when they emerged, the stranger had the white plume of leadership on his helm. Debegri's glower was plain even at the distance we watched from.
Backing up from our vantage, we retreated to our camp.
Bran and Khesot and the other riding leaders were all gathered under our old, patched rain cover when we reached them. Seliar blurted out what we'd seen.
Branaric grinned all through the story. At the end I said, "This is obviously no surprise. What news had you?"
Bran nodded to where a mud-covered young woman sat in front of one of the tents, attacking a bowl of stew as if she hadn't eaten in a week. "Messenger just arrived from Azmus, or it would have been a surprise. Galdran has taken his cousin off the command. He'd apparently expected us to last two weeks at most."
"Well, who is this new commander? Ought we to be afraid?"
Bran's grin widened until he laughed. "Here's the jest: He's none other than the Marquis of Shevraeth, heir to the Renselaeus principality. According to Azmus, all he ever thinks about are clothes, horse racing, and gambling. And did I mention clothes?"
Everyone roared with laughter.
"We'll give two weeks," I crowed. "And then we'll send him scurrying back to his tailor.
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Crown Duel ]
www.QuoteSweet.com