He shook his head slowly. “A messenger … I think.”
I turned to the others. “It would have to have come by messenger. From the Mountains, for Verity must be there by now. He was nearly to the Mountains when Burrich was sent back. I do not believe a messenger would come all the way from the Mountains, and not stay to convey such news to Kettricken herself.”
“It might have come by relay,” Burrich said unwillingly. “For one man and one horse, it is too exhausting a trip. A rider would have to exchange horses. Or pass on the word to another rider, who would go on, on a swift horse. The last is most likely.”
“Perhaps. But how long would such word take to come to us all the way from the Mountains? I know Verity was alive on the day Beams departed here. Because that was when King Shrewd used me to speak to him. That night when I all but fainted on this hearth. That was what had happened, Fool.” I paused. “I believe I felt him with me during the battle at Neatbay.”
I saw Burrich count back the days in his mind. He shrugged unwillingly. “It is still possible. If Verity were killed that day, and word were sent out immediately, and the riders and horses were both good … it could be so. Barely.”
“I don’t believe it.” I turned to the rest of them, tried to force my hope into them. “I don’t believe Verity is dead.” I turned my eyes up to King Shrewd once more. “Do you? Do you believe your son could have died, and you not feel anything?”
“Chivalry … went like that. Like a fading whisper. `Father,’ he said, I think. Father.”