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Guda bowed in her saddle. “They will indeed, my lady. Give me a direction and I shall find you the closest city gate.”
Ilse tilted her head back and scanned the cloudless skies.
When she had first come to Duenne, she and her companions had leapt through the magic planes. It was as though a seamstress had snipped a length of cloth, and stitched together its ends, removing in a few deft movements a hundred or more miles of land. Which part of that missing journey to visit first? East lay Tiralien. She had traversed those hills twice, both times in hunger and panic. North lay a region she wanted to explore some day, but for now, she had enough of hills and mountains both. “South,” she declared. “Over the open plains.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Half an hour later saw them exiting the city gates for a highway leading south. They passed through the outer city, as Guda called it, crammed with small shops and yards for sheep and goats. Beyond that lay a ring of smaller farms, so it was not until the sun rose above the horizon that Ilse could count herself free of Duenne.
The plains spread outward before her, like a pale ocean that undulated toward an impossibly distant horizon. There were no forests, no mountains, nothing but an endless expanse that glittered with frost under the winter sun. Above, the skies were a burnished gray, clear and seemingly as limitless as the earth below.
Ilse urged her horse forward at a trot, and Guda followed. Their highway swung to the southeast, between a few outlying farms, then into the frozen sea of grassland. If they were to continue in this direction, they would reach the provinces of Pommersien within three weeks. Other highways branched off from this one, to Fortezzien, Tiralien, and other coastal cities. But she wanted no grand destination today, only a momentary refuge where she might think through her future.
Sooner than she expected, they came to a narrow track that angled to the right. Perhaps a smaller city or town lay at the end. Perhaps a farm settlement had paid the kingdom for this road. Ilse drew rein and considered the possibilities. From here, she could see a line of trees, and a faint blue mass that could be a village or farm. Dark shadows marked a drifting herd of cattle, and on the horizon, a swiftly moving speck of shadow that might be a horse galloping free.
“Let us ride, ride onward into infinity,” she murmured.
“My lady?” Guda said.
“A test for your preparations, Guda Decker. How fast can you ride?”
Without waiting for an answer, she gave a shout and urged her horse into a gallop. The horse surged forward happily, willingly, hooves pounding over the frozen ground. Ilse yipped in delight and bent over her mount’s neck, the cold wind burning against her face. She hardly cared. She was riding into infinity, into an unknown future. From far behind, she heard Guda shouting after her.
She had surpassed the herd of cattle before she leaned back. Her horse slowed to her touch of the reins, and they circled around into the fields to meet up with her companion, who appeared torn between laughter and dismay.
Ilse grinned at her. “Are you hungry?”
“But my lady…”
“I am hungry,” Ilse said. “Let us investigate your preparations, Guda Decker, and what the kitchens have provided us.”
Her guide and guardian laughed, then shook her head. “Yes, my lady. Just as you ask. But not exactly here, if you please.”
There was a traveler’s camp another mile down this road, Guda told her, where they and the horses would be far more comfortable. Ilse could hardly disagree. A short interval later, they dismounted in the camp, which was a circle of bare dirt, with a well-used fire pit and a shelter of stone covered by a thatched roof that needed repair. A stream meandered past and disappeared into the frozen grass.
Guda built a fire using dry wood from the shelter, while Ilse walked their horses, then rubbed them down. By the time she finished, Guda had coffee brewing and was grilling bread and cheese. Ilse sorted through their saddlebags and discovered several sealed pots. One held a mixture of rice and spiced lamb, another porridge, another yet a thick soup of lentils and greens. There was also bread, dried figs, more cheese, and a plentiful supply of black tea leaves and dried meat—enough for an entire day, just as she had asked for.
She and Guda ate the bread and cheese first, then the porridge, and drank down a pot of hot coffee. Once they had finished, they washed their dishes and tidied up the camp.
“What next, my lady?” Guda asked.
The day had turned clear and bright. The air was crisply cold, with the scent of snow in the air. Ilse blew out a silver-bright breath. They had six hours until sunset.
“West,” she said. “I have an urge to see the compass.”
They left the roads and trails and rode west until the sun hovered directly overhead. This time there was no traveler’s camp nearby, but Guda knew of a ravine with a reliable stream and trees for shelter. Once more they built a fire and set water to boil. Ilse fed hot mash to the horses, while Guda constructed a shelter from canvas and sticks. Just as she finished, a wind kicked up from the north.
Crouched under the shelter, they consumed the lentil soup cold. Ilse accepted a mug of hot tea, grateful for the rush of warmth. She picked over the lamb and rice, however, finally setting the dish aside.
I cannot gallop forever.
Soon, she would have to return to Duenne, where her obligations to the crown awaited. There she would learn Raul’s decision, and from that she could make her own choices about the future.
He might say no.
He might agree, and the council, too. If that is so, they will want a noble queen. Or they will want someone with connections here and abroad.
Her heart constricted at the thought of Raul with another, and yet …
