“If you knew who it was that spoke to you-” Quentin began hotly. His temper was rising at the haughty spirit of this obstinate young woman.

“If you knew who it was you mistreated…” She turned on Quentin again and, quick as a cat, leapt at him with claws extended.

Toli caught her by the arms once more, saying, “Peace! What my master is trying to tell you, my lady, is that we are sworn to protect all subjects of the realm. We are at your service.” He spoke softly and released her when she grew quieter.

“Well, you need have no care for me,” she returned in a more subdued tone. “I am not one of your King’s subjects.”

“Not of Mensandor? Ah, now we are getting somewhere,” Quentin remarked sourly.

The girl looked at each of them from beneath dark lashes, as if sizing them up. “Very well, I will trust you-but only because your servant has a mannered tongue.” She glanced darkly at Quentin. “I am Esme. My home is in Elsendor.”

“Then you are very far from home. What brings you to Mensandor and to this modest village yonder?”

“The village was not my destination, I assure you, sir. But my tale is not for your ears, worry me though you will.”

“And who might best hear your tale if not King’s men?” Quentin asked.

“The King himself!” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at them both.

“Then allow me to offer you the King’s protection until you shall obtain audience with him,” said Toli, bowing low. Esme smiled triumphantly and nodded. Quentin looked heavenward, as if seeking patience.

“I accept your protection; it seems a woman needs it in this rough land.” She straightened her clothes and looked at them both squarely. “Then take me at once to the King, I charge you.”

“Toli is right to offer you the King’s protection, and we will ride to the King-but not yet. We have a charge placed upon us by the King himself and cannot return until it is accomplished.”

The young lady frowned and seemed about to lash out angrily once more, but again Toli interceded. “My master speaks the truth; were it not for the urgency of our errand we would gladly conduct you directly to the castle itself. We return there ourselves as soon as may be.”

“Then I will go myself. With or without your protection, my mission must not wait.”

“How will you go? In your boat? That would take far longer than you might think. The current of the Herwydd is strong; going against it is not easily done, and Askelon is far. Or perhaps you would walk all the way?”

“My master is suggesting prudence, my lady. Our errand is perhaps of an end not many days hence. We have good horses and can reach Askelon swiftly at need. Come with us…”-he hesitated-“for your protection and so you may reach the King the sooner.”

The fiery young lady stared from one to the other of them before she made up her mind. “Very well, I will go with you. There seems no better choice.” With that she turned and began walking back toward the abandoned village of Persch.

Toli and Quentin followed behind, and upon reaching the village square Esme turned to them and announced, “I will attend directly.” She then disappeared into one of the dwellings.

“I will wait here for our proud companion,” announced Quentin. “Fetch the horses, and we’ll away as soon as she returns.”

Toli brought the horses and set himself to redistributing small items of their traveling effects.

“What are you doing?” asked Quentin, looking on.

“I assumed that you would not care to have the lady share your mount, so I am making ready mine.”

“I will take the responsibility; it is my place.”

“How so? I am your servant; it is my place. And it was my tongue which placed this burden upon your back. Therefore, I will help bear it.”

“If it pleases you, Toli, you shall carry her in your arms all the way. Have it as you will.”

“I am ready,” called a voice behind them. They turned to see a very different young woman than the one they had fished from the sea. She had gathered back her hair and bound it in a leather thong. She wore riding trousers, but of a finer cut and fit than a man’s, and embroidered with intricate designs along the seams. She wore a short cloak thrown over one shoulder; it, too, was carefully embroidered and matched her trousers. The cloak was of deep blue, as was the soft short tunic under it. A thin belt of new leather held a long dagger at her waist. Soft leather boots covered her feet and reached almost to her knees.

A more remarkable transformation could hardly have been anticipated. Toli and Quentin blinked in wonder. Esme looked like a warrior princess, but such things were unheard of in Mensandor.

“Which horse will I have?” she demanded.

“Toli has agreed to share his with you.”

Without another word they climbed into their saddles. Toli reached a hand down and drew the lady up to sit behind him on Riv’s broad back. They soon left the silent village behind.

As the declining sun lengthened their shadows upon the green hills, they stopped for the night in a stand of thin aspens near a trickling brook. Quentin and Toli routinely began making camp, while Esme planted herself on a grassy knob and drew her knees up to wait. Only when Toli had meat on the spit and broth bubbling in the shallow pot did she approach.

“We will eat better tomorrow, perhaps,” muttered Quentin. “We did not have opportunity to gather provisions as we would have liked.” He inclined his head in the direction of Persch.

‘It appears a banquet to me,” said Esme, her eyes glowing as she watched Toli turn the spits. “I have not eaten in two days.”

The confession shamed Quentin, who colored deeply. “I… I must apologize for my behavior back there, my lady. It was not meet of me to judge you so.”

“And I have misjudged you,” she admitted. “But perhaps you will grant me my error. A woman must sometimes discourage untoward advances by strange men. I thought you would take advantage of me.”

“I would pity the man who tried.”

“No harm will come to you while you remain with us, my lady,” said Toli earnestly.

“I thank you, good sir.” When their eyes met, Toli looked away quickly and finished preparing the meal.

When it was ready they sat down together. Toli handed a plate of meat around and filled their bowls with broth. He broke some crusts of hard bread which they each dipped into the broth to soften it for chewing. Esme ate with a most unladylike appetite which Quentin and Toli made certain not to notice.

“You are most kind not to scold my ill manners. The food does so warm an empty stomach.”

“How could we scold what we ourselves indulge?” asked Quentin. “Have more; you are welcome.”

“I have eaten quite enough, thank you. Toli, your way with simple fare is praiseworthy. I would care to see what you could do with more exotic victuals.”

Toli said nothing, but merely smiled mysteriously. “Would you now tell us what you were doing in the village alone?” Quentin asked after some time.

Esme looked into her bowl of broth as if the answer might be read there. She cocked her head to one side and said, “That I was alone was no fault of my own. I went there, as you would surmise, to obtain the clothes you first saw me wearing. I found the village empty as you did; so I helped myself to the garments.”

“You wished to disguise yourself-why?”

“I have already told you-a woman cannot be too careful traveling alone. It was a poor disguise, I know. But I thought it might serve until I could discover another or until”-she smiled broadly-“disguises were no longer necessary.”

“Do you know so little of Mensandor, then, that you think every man a rogue?”

“It is not Mensandor’s subjects that I fear, though I did not propose to put them to the test. But tell me of your errand. Something tells me that we may be of closer purpose than seems first apparent.”