It was so bitterly cold that they all rolled close together, like dogs sleeping in heaps; when the camp was awakening in the morning, Alaric jeered, as Orain unrolled himself from Caryl and Romilly, “Hey, man, are you running a nursery for the children?” But Orain’s presence was comforting to her, and, she felt, to Caryl as well; he was gentle and fatherly, and she was not afraid of him. In fact, if it came to necessity, she did not doubt she could confide in Orain without real danger; he might be shocked at finding she was a girl in this rough country and climate, but he would not make that kind of trouble for her, any more than her own father or brothers. Somehow she knew, beyond all doubt, that he was not the kind of man ever to ravish or offer any offense to any woman.
She went away to attend to her personal needs in private – she had been jeered at, a bit, for this, they said she was as squeamish as a woman, but she knew they only thought it was because she was a cristoforo; they were known to be prudish and modest about such things. She was sure none of them suspected, and Caryl, who know – and Dom Carlo, who, she felt, knew perfectly well – chose to say nothing.
But she could keep her secret as long as she could. When she came to Caer Donn, it might not be so easy as in Nevarsin to find work as hawk-keeper or horse-trainer, but certainly it could be done, and certainly Orain, or Dom Carlo himself, could give her a good reference as a willing and skilled worker.
She still felt a certain revulsion against eating meat, though she knew it was foolish – it was in the way of nature that some animals were prey to others, but though she knew the
intense immediacy of her revulsion was beginning to fade a little, she still preferred porridge and bread to the meat, and Carlo, (she wondered if Orain had spoken to him about it?) no longer urged her to eat it, but simply gave her a somewhat larger ration of porridge and fruit. Alaric jeered at her once, and Dom Carlo curtly bade him be silent.
“The less there is of meat for him, the more for the rest of us, man. Let him have such food as he likes best, and you do the same! If all men were alike, you would long since have been meat for the banshee; we owe it to him to let him have his way.”
They had been, she thought, nine days on the road from Nevarsin when, circling high above them, they saw a bird winging from the range of hills. Romilly was feeding the sentry-birds, and they strained at their jesses as the small bird flew down into their camp; then she saw Dom Carlo standing motionless, his arms extended, his face the blank, silent stare of laran-focused thoughts. The bird darted down; alighted and stood quivering on his hand.
“A message from our folk in Caer Donn,” Carlo said, sought for the capsule under the wing and tore it open, scanning the finely-written lines. Romilly stared – she knew of message-birds who could fly back to their own loft across trackless wilds, but never of one which could seek out a particular man whose whereabouts were unknown to the sender!
Carlo raised his head, smiling broadly.
“We must make haste to Caer Donn, men,” he cried out, “A tenday hence we will gather beneath Aldaran, and Carolin will be at the head of the great army which is massing there, to march on the lowlands. Now let Rakhal look to himself, my faithful fellows!”
They cheered, and Romilly cheered too. Only Caryl was silent, lowering his head and biting his lip. Romilly started to ask what was wrong, then held her tongue. He could hardly rejoice at an army massed against his father, who was Rakhal’s chief advisor. It would be unfair to expect it Yet she had seen that he loved Dom Carlo as a kinsman – in fact, she was sure they were kinsmen, though perhaps distant; she had heard that all of the lowland Hasturs were kin, and she was sure now, recalling Carlo’s red hair, the look he had which reminded her of Alderic, that he was one of the Hastur-kin-folk, and higher in rank than any of his men knew. If Orain, who was the king’s foster-brother, treated him with such deference, he must be noble indeed.