word as a Kadoa."
Gabria was skeptical. "What of your Fon? She will not be pleased to lose her personal sorcerer."
Khan'di laughed once, a sharp, bitter bark. "Leave her to me."
Gabria studied him for a long moment. It was still possible the Pra Deshian was leading her into a trap. If not for the warning of the King Stallion, she might not have accepted Khan'di's plea so readily.
Now, as she examined his fleshy face and watched the way his hands tightened around the reins in suppressed anger, she thought that he was probably telling the truth, at least as he saw it.
"That will have to do,” she finally answered. "Do not go back on your word." She plucked the scrol out of his fingers, nodded once again, and turned Nara away.
The man watched her go, his mouth pul ed tight. The woman was ignorant, but she was not stupid.
He would have to tread careful y with her. And her Hunnuli. Khan'di could not swear to it, but just before the big mare turned, he thought he saw an almost human glint of warning in her dark eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
For five days the party followed the Goldrine River as it flowed northeast then east across the grasslands of Ramtharin, toward its junction with the Isin River.
Ignoring the cold winds and incessant rains, the riders traveled fast from dawn to dusk, stopping only at noon to eat and rest the horses. True to Nara's word, the foal had no trouble keeping up with the other horses and seemed to thrive on his mother's milk and the constant exercise. The people slowly settled into the routine of the trail, too, as their muscles adjusted to the long hours of riding and their minds grew accustomed to each other's constant company.
Gabria divided her time between Athlone, Piers, and Khan'di. Although she did not care for the nobleman from Pra Desh, he enjoyed talking to her and was a fountain of information and advice. While Piers told her about Pra Desh's history, culture, and society, Khan'di fil ed her in on the changes that had been taking place in the government, economy, and politics during the past few years.
"The kingdom of Calah is ruled by a king,” he explained one afternoon, "but the capital city, Pra Desh, is ruled by the Fon."
"The king allows that?" Gabria asked in surprise.
Khan'di chuckled. "He usual y doesn't have much choice. The Fon controls the vast flow of goods to and from the Five Kingdoms, so he or she holds more wealth and power than the king. It is not the easiest of situations. There has been constant feuding between the king and the Fon for generations."
"Where is your king now?"
The nobleman's brow lowered in anger. "About eleven years ago, the king of Calah died in a mysterious accident, leaving a son too young to rule. Fast on the heels of that disaster, the Fon was poisoned. His body wasn't even cold when his wife snatched control of the city and the kingdom. She stil holds them both---in the name of the young prince, of course."
"Why hasn't the prince reclaimed his throne?"
"No one knows where he is. The Fon held him prisoner for a few years, but we have not seen him recently. I'm afraid she may have disposed of him." The nobleman fell silent after that and rode with his expression frozen and his eyes as hard as rock.
The next day, during another talk, he told Gabria more about Branth's arrival in Pra Desh.
"The man was a fool," Khan'di said in disgust. "He ensconced himself in a big house in one of the wealthiest districts of the city and began flaunting himself in the highest social circles. He made no secret of his talent as a magic-wielder, but he was smart enough not to use his power openly. Then odd things began to happen. Gold was stolen out of locked safes, gem shipments disappeared, and ships sank in the harbor for no apparent reason. Men who angered Branth were financially ruined." Khan'di shook his head. "By the time someone tied the crimes to Branth it was too late. The Fon sent a detachment of her own guards to arrest him, but he'd had plenty of
Gabria was skeptical. "What of your Fon? She will not be pleased to lose her personal sorcerer."
Khan'di laughed once, a sharp, bitter bark. "Leave her to me."
Gabria studied him for a long moment. It was still possible the Pra Deshian was leading her into a trap. If not for the warning of the King Stallion, she might not have accepted Khan'di's plea so readily.
Now, as she examined his fleshy face and watched the way his hands tightened around the reins in suppressed anger, she thought that he was probably telling the truth, at least as he saw it.
"That will have to do,” she finally answered. "Do not go back on your word." She plucked the scrol out of his fingers, nodded once again, and turned Nara away.
The man watched her go, his mouth pul ed tight. The woman was ignorant, but she was not stupid.
He would have to tread careful y with her. And her Hunnuli. Khan'di could not swear to it, but just before the big mare turned, he thought he saw an almost human glint of warning in her dark eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
For five days the party followed the Goldrine River as it flowed northeast then east across the grasslands of Ramtharin, toward its junction with the Isin River.
Ignoring the cold winds and incessant rains, the riders traveled fast from dawn to dusk, stopping only at noon to eat and rest the horses. True to Nara's word, the foal had no trouble keeping up with the other horses and seemed to thrive on his mother's milk and the constant exercise. The people slowly settled into the routine of the trail, too, as their muscles adjusted to the long hours of riding and their minds grew accustomed to each other's constant company.
Gabria divided her time between Athlone, Piers, and Khan'di. Although she did not care for the nobleman from Pra Desh, he enjoyed talking to her and was a fountain of information and advice. While Piers told her about Pra Desh's history, culture, and society, Khan'di fil ed her in on the changes that had been taking place in the government, economy, and politics during the past few years.
"The kingdom of Calah is ruled by a king,” he explained one afternoon, "but the capital city, Pra Desh, is ruled by the Fon."
"The king allows that?" Gabria asked in surprise.
Khan'di chuckled. "He usual y doesn't have much choice. The Fon controls the vast flow of goods to and from the Five Kingdoms, so he or she holds more wealth and power than the king. It is not the easiest of situations. There has been constant feuding between the king and the Fon for generations."
"Where is your king now?"
The nobleman's brow lowered in anger. "About eleven years ago, the king of Calah died in a mysterious accident, leaving a son too young to rule. Fast on the heels of that disaster, the Fon was poisoned. His body wasn't even cold when his wife snatched control of the city and the kingdom. She stil holds them both---in the name of the young prince, of course."
"Why hasn't the prince reclaimed his throne?"
"No one knows where he is. The Fon held him prisoner for a few years, but we have not seen him recently. I'm afraid she may have disposed of him." The nobleman fell silent after that and rode with his expression frozen and his eyes as hard as rock.
The next day, during another talk, he told Gabria more about Branth's arrival in Pra Desh.
"The man was a fool," Khan'di said in disgust. "He ensconced himself in a big house in one of the wealthiest districts of the city and began flaunting himself in the highest social circles. He made no secret of his talent as a magic-wielder, but he was smart enough not to use his power openly. Then odd things began to happen. Gold was stolen out of locked safes, gem shipments disappeared, and ships sank in the harbor for no apparent reason. Men who angered Branth were financially ruined." Khan'di shook his head. "By the time someone tied the crimes to Branth it was too late. The Fon sent a detachment of her own guards to arrest him, but he'd had plenty of
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