‘Not I,’ said Marcus.
‘Well, I’m off. I’ve got to talk to Mother,’ said Cabs, rising. ‘And you have a festival to start. If my sense of timing is right, it’s nearly noon and the populace will not be pleased if you’re late.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘Thanks for the help, Marcus. Can I have the loan of a horse?’
‘Aren’t you going to use that Tsurani transport thing to get to Elvandar?’ said Anthony.
Calis tossed it to him. ‘You keep it. You know how to use it better than I, magician. And use it you must. Rest tonight, then back to that peak we used first thing in the morning. Take Marcus, and observe the battle. If you need to get word to me in a hurry, send a runner to the banks of the river Crydee. I can be back here in a week.
‘I’ll ride, and if Pug or Miranda is at Elvandar, they can get me back to Krondor. If not, I’ll return this way and use that thing.’
Marcus said, ‘Good-bye, Calis. Your visits are far too rare.’
Margaret and Abigail both kissed him on the cheek, and Anthony shook his hand.
Marcus signaled for a squire to escort Calis to the stable and give him whichever mount he chose. Then the Duke of Crydee and his family hurried to the main entrance of the castle to begin the Banapis festival for another year.
At sundown, farmers and citizens who lived outside the walls of the city began to trickle through the gate. The guards stood idly by, watching only with cursory attentiveness. Erik held Kitty in a close embrace, deep in the shadows of a nearby alley.
‘I love you,’ Kitty whispered into his chest.
‘I love you, too,’ Erik said.
‘Will you come for me?’
‘Always,’ said Erik. ‘No matter what, I’ll find you.’
As the lamps were lit and those shops still trying to conduct business opened their doors to reveal the light inside, the sound of traffic increased. While the celebration would last long into the night, there were more sober souls who knew that come dawn there would be work to be done, and that to be at their best the next day would require a good night’s sleep.
Erik held Kitty away from him a moment. A dark wig peeked out from under the plain hood of a farmer’s cloak of homespun. The dress she had selected was equally nondescript. To any who failed to inspect her closely, she looked like nothing more than another common farmer’s daughter on her way home with her family. A small bag was clutched under the cloak, and in it Kitty carried a modest fortune in gold coins, as much of Erik’s personal wealth as he could put his hands on in short order. She also carried a pair of daggers.
‘If something goes wrong, get to my mother in Ravensburg.’ He grinned. ‘Just tell her you’re my wife and stand back.’
Kitty put her head on his chest again, and said, ‘Your wife.’
Neither of them could believe it. They had simply walked into the temple of Sung the Pure and joined a line of other couples who had come to be wed. Impulsive marriages on Banapis were hardly uncommon, and after the priest had asked pointedly if they were intoxicated and how long they had known each other, he had consented to marry them. The ceremony had been brief, less than five minutes, and they had been hustled outside by an acolyte seeking to make room for the next pair.
Erik said, ‘You have to be ready.’
‘I know,’ said Kitty. She understood that at any instant a group of farmers was likely to come through whom Erik judged appropriate and she would have to act without hesitation. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
‘I don’t want you to leave.’ Then fiercely he said, ‘But I don’t want you to die, either.’
‘I don’t want you to die,’ she answered, and he could feel her tears fall on his bare arm. ‘Damn. I hate crying.’
‘Then stop it!’ he said lightly.
She started to say something, but he said, ‘Now!’
Without even a kiss good-bye, she turned and walked out of the side street, up to a young woman who was walking next to a hay wagon, upon which rode a half-dozen children. An old man drove the wagon, and behind it walked another three men and a woman.
Kitty said to the young woman, ‘Excuse me?’
As the wagon rolled up to the gate, Kitty was hidden from observation on one side, and had her back turned toward the guard on the other as she appeared lost in conversation with the young woman to whom she spoke.
Erik listened as she said, ‘You’re not from Jenkstown, are you?’
‘No,’ said the young stranger. ‘Our farm is only a few miles from here.’
‘Oh, I thought you might be someone I knew a while back in Jenkstown. You look a great deal like her, but prettier.’