peace together in the light one day, Sentinel.‖
Jack nodded, then he and his pigs were gone in the swirling snow.
Timozel watched the place he had disappeared for a moment, then he patted the mule
standing patiently behind him. ―We have no time to waste if we want to find shelter and a bed
tonight,‖ he said shortly, ―let‘s be off.‖
Timozel led them down to the ferry, the two women holding on to the straps of the
mule‘s packs to avoid being separated in the snowstorm. Both women, protected by the falling
snow and the deep shadow of their hooded cloaks, cried a little. Most of the Sentinels had been
separated for at least two thousand years, and, as they only felt whole when they were together,
the parting was especially painful for Yr. Faraday, on the other hand, felt the loss of a valued
companion, a man she had come to lean on for support over the past few weeks. Since her
experiences at Fernbrake Lake, Faraday had let go her vague mistrust of the man. The Prophecy
manipulated them all, and Jack was as much a victim as she. Faraday had lost her mother and the
man she loved, and for a while Jack had begun to fill both roles. She knew she would miss him
terribly over the coming months. How could she cope with Borneheld if Jack were not there?
Faraday raised her chin and gritted her teeth. ―Mother, aid me,‖ she whispered, and felt a small
twinge of reassurance deep inside her. If they had a room tonight, Faraday vowed, she would use
the sacred bowl.
The River Nordra was wide but slow where it bent its massive course southwards. Both
traders and locals used the Tailem Bend ferry to travel from Ichtar into Skarabost, and some
stayed to catch one of the river boats that plied their way to and from Carlon. The ferryman was
just about to push the ferry out for the far bank and home when he saw the group of three
struggling down the path cut deep in the Nordra‘s bank. He cursed a little; he had wanted to push
off early and get home to bed before this storm thickened any further. For a moment he
considered pushing off regardless, but he saw the glint of steel at the hip of the tall man leading
the mule, and relaxed his grip on the pole. He called out to his three assistants to wait. Best not to
anger one of Borneheld‘s captains.
The man led his mule down to the ferry and the ferryman‘s eyes widened a little. The
man wore the uniform, albeit a little tattered, of an Axe-Wielder, and the ferryman was a
religious man. He made the sign of the Plough before the Axe-Wielder.
―Good sir, may I offer you passage across the river this evening? ‘Tis cold and blustery,
and I‘m sure that you‘re keen to reach your rooms this night.‖ The ferryman‘s eyes widened a
little further when he saw the two women follow the Axe-Wielder on to the ferry. They were
both very beautiful, but the ferryman‘s mouth curved just a little bit more appreciatively at the
blonde wench as she walked past. Yr dipped her eyes coquettishly at the ferryman; it never hurt
to turn a man‘s mind from money to lust and she did not know how Timozel was going to pay
the man once they reached the other side.
But the ferryman had no intention of waiting until they reached the other side before he
saw his gold.
―My lord,‖ he grovelled at Timozel‘s side, his stained teeth bared in a smile. ―For
yourself and the two lovely ladies ‘tis only four marks for the journey across to Jervois
Landing.‖ His smile faded a little and his face assumed a sad expression. ―I am sorry that the
price should be so dear, my lord, but it costs so much to hire decent help to work this ferry in
such bad weather. I know you will understand.‖
The ferryman was reassured by the smile that spread across Timozel‘s face, but his
reassurance disappeared as Timozel‘s gloved hand seized his throat and half lifted him off his
feet.
Timozel‘s pleasant smile never wavered. ―My good man, I can only assume that you do
not recognise the Lady Faraday of Skarabost, betrothed to Duke Borneheld, and on her way to
him at this moment for their wedding. Would you like me to pass on to Borneheld himself that
you were churlish enough to demand payment from her as she hurried to meet her lord? And
yours,‖ he added to drive the point home.
The ferryman‘s eyes rolled in his head. Beautiful the girl might be, but he had never seen
a less pretentious escort for what this Axe-Wielder claimed was Borneheld‘s betrothed. And the
girl was dressed in country worsted! ―My wife dresses better than that girl, my lord,‖ he
whispered, trying to put on a brave aspect in front of his assistants. ―I hardly think she be the
Duke‘s betrothed.‖
Faraday stepped forward, intending to show the man her ring, but before she managed to
come close Timozel‘s face twisted and his fingers gripped the man‘s throat so tightly that the
ferryman gave a strangled sound. His three assistants, all young lads, were kept well back by one
fierce glare from Timozel.
―I‘m sorry,‖ Timozel whispered so threateningly the ferryman thought he was dead. ―I
thought I heard you say that you didn‘t believe me. You may even have insulted the lady by
comparing her to your wife. I don‘t like that, ferryman!‖
Faraday stopped and gazed at Timozel in amazement.
The ferryman‘s eyes bulged and he squeaked in fear. ―I misunderstood, my lord! The
passage is yours, free!‖
Timozel dropped him and the man cowered on the deck of the ferry for a moment before
scrambling away from Timozel as fast as he could on his hands and knees. ―Pole, you witless
idiots!‖ he yelped to his assistants. ―Pole!‖
The ferry began to move away from the river bank and Faraday turned to Timozel.
―Timozel, was that much force necessary?‖
Timozel turned to stare at her and Faraday stepped back at the look in his eyes. Timozel‘s
expression softened, but his voice remained hard. ―No-one insults you before me and gets away
with it. The man is lucky that he lives.‖
―If this is what you do to win us passage across the Nordra, then I dread to think what
you will do to win us a bed for the night,‖ Yr grumbled.
Yet, in the end, bed and a promise of transport was arranged more easily than any of
them could have imagined. When the ferryman docked at the landing leading to the main street
of Jervois Landing Timozel and the two women could not get off fast enough for his liking. He
mouthed a curse as the Axe-Wielder strode by him, but he made sure his face was in shadow as
he did it.
The main street was abuzz with activity even though dark had fallen. Faraday had arrived
only just in time, since the last major contingent for Gorkenfort had arrived that morning and were due to pull out in two days. Faraday and Yr stuck close to Timozel‘s side, avoiding the
lewd suggestions that were thrown their way by the rough soldiers. Timozel‘s back stiffened at
the insults, but there was no way he could attack the entire street of soldiers passing by. He
stopped one of the locals, a merchant by the cut and quality of his clothes. ―Good man, is there
an inn where we could rest close by?‖
The merchant laughed. ―Young man,‖ Timozel‘s face stiffened, ―there is no room to be
had for gold or threat here tonight. Can‘t you see about you? The place is crawling with troops.‖
He turned and grinned at Faraday and Yr. ―Now, the young lasses might be able to find
themselves somewhere warm for the night, if they‘re prepared to work a little for it, but I‘m
afraid you‘ll have to suffer the indignity and cold of a night in the streets.‖
Faraday grabbed Timozel‘s arm. ―Tim! No! He does not realise who we are. I ask you not
to lose your temper here!‖
Timozel‘s mouth tightened so that his lips had almost completely disappeared, but he
jerked his head and waved the man away. ―Faraday, I do not know what we can do,‖ he began.
―Timozel?‖ A horseman hauled his mount to a sudden halt before them, ―Timozel, is that
you?‖
Timozel stared for a moment at the man before he recognised him.
―Gautier!‖ Timozel said, relief relaxing his voice. He had met Borneheld‘s lieutenant in
Carlon when the Axe-Wielders were preparing to ride east to Tare and the Silent Woman Keep.
They had struck up an easy acquaintance, even though Gautier had won Timozel‘s best cloak
from him at dice. At last fortune had favoured them; there was no-one save Borneheld himself