cryl turned to the sergeant. 'let's go. we'll see what we see.' to the stranger he said, 'there's an armed procession ahead of you. you'd be safe enough near to them if you rode a little quicker, sir.'

'thank you,' the man replied. 'that's a decent offer.'

agalas waved the houseblades forward and they all rode past the stranger.

'that wasn't much help,' cryl said as they continued on up the road.

'sorry, sir,' said agalas, 'but i'm not buying it.'

'what do you mean?'

'i mean, sir, he wasn't quite right. not sure.'

'i could see him as a caravan guard.'

she nodded. 'but his horse was a damned good animal, well groomed and well fed, and the tack was clean.'

cryl considered. 'any man long on the road would do well to take care of his mount and tack.'

'as to that, sir, he wasn't carrying much gear. i don't know, is all i'm saying.'

'wonder who gave him that beating. he was armed, after all.'

she shot him a look and then reined in hard. the houseblades veered past her, drawing up in confusion. cryl halted his own horse and swung round to face the sergeant. 'what is it?'

'his sword, sir. it was legion issue.'

cryl frowned. 'hardly surprising - those weapons must have flooded the market stalls after the disbanding.'

'you'd think so, sir, but they didn't. maybe you heard different, but i'm saying they didn't. soldiers kept their gear.'

'no, i believe you. i only assumed.' he looked back down the road but the stranger was already out of sight. 'so he's ex-legion. might be riding to join up with a renegade troop-'

'sir, we went with the lord this morning. we saw the deniers, that village, it was a place of slaughter. the killers just cut 'em all down. children too. it was butchery.'

'so what was he, then?' cryl asked. 'a scout? if so, he was coming from the wrong direction and heading the wrong way.'

'i don't know, sir. i don't know what to think, but it feels all wrong here. all of it.'

he studied her weathered face, the flat eyes. if she was in an excited state, he'd not know it from looking at her. 'sergeant, a word alone, please.'

they rode on ahead and then reined in again.

'sir?'

'i don't know what to do,' cryl confessed. 'lord jaen commanded us to return to enes house. he fears for his household. if that lone rider's a scout, then the renegades must be somewhere ahead and that would mean that they'd already hit the estate - assuming they were planning on doing so. but i see no dust above the way ahead, and we're not close enough to see smoke if they attacked the lord's house.'

she said nothing, watching him, her gloved hands folded on the saddle horn.

'but they wouldn't attack a wedding procession,' cryl said.

'we need to keep an eye on the road, sir. study the tracks ahead. lone rider or lots of riders? headed which way? problem is, sir, there's trails through the forest, some of 'em running parallel with this road.'

'is this your suggestion, sergeant?'

'we can reach enes house before dusk, sir.'

'they wouldn't attack a wedding procession,' cryl said again. 'deniers - well, you've seen the proof of that.' still he hesitated. lord jaen had promoted him, given him this command, and the orders were explicit. return to enes house. muster the full garrison of houseblades. prepare for an attack. 'abyss below, one lone stranger on the road and suddenly nothing is clear!'

'i told you he was wrong, sir. and he is. all wrong.'

'that beating was days old-'

'more like a week, sir, or even two. that wasn't swelling, just dead nerves.'

cryl fidgeted, hating himself, hating his indecision. lord jaen had but eight houseblades in that train. 'i don't know what to do,' he said again.

she frowned. 'sir, you got your orders. lord jaen rides to a gathering of highborn.'

'and no one would dare attack a wedding procession.'

'unless they've lost their minds. sir, it's all down to that rider.'

'should we ride back and question him?'

'if you give me leave, sir, me and two of my houseblades will do just that. if i have to, i'll ask my questions with the point of my knife. why's he riding south? that's the key to it all. it don't make sense.'