The Master by Louise Cooper

Author:Louise Cooper [Cooper, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Epic, Fiction
ISBN: 9781594264184
Google: 6hA8NwAACAAJ
Publisher: Mundania Press LLC
Published: 2008-06-01T06:22:12+00:00

Chapter 8

Tarod's keen eyes saw the small cavalcade approaching from the west against the glare of the setting sun, and he reached out to touch the bridle of Cyllan's horse, bringing it to a well-trained halt. She shifted in her saddle, squinting as she tried to follow where he was pointing, then looked at him and saw the unease in his expression.

"What is it?"

"I don't know.” He couldn't explain the intuitive foreboding stirring within him. This was by no means the first party they had encountered on the road, but a sixth sense told him that it was no ordinary convoy.

Cyllan looked again. The sun was sinking into a bank of cloud and the glare was lessened, so that she could make out individual shapes among the cavalcade.

"They're moving quite slowly,” she said, then: “There's something in their midst, something large..."

"It's a palanquin.” Tarod frowned. “And most of the riders seemed to be dressed in white."

She glanced uncertainly at him, beginning to share his unease. “Do you know who they are?"

"I know who they should be. But it makes no logical sense, unless—” He hesitated, then shook his head as though dismissing whatever unspoken thought had been in his mind, and instead turned his attention to the south. Three miles ahead, across a stretch of pleasant moorland, it was just possible to make out the contours of Shu-Nhadek in the evening haze, while beyond its blurred outlines the sea glittered like a knife on the horizon. They had almost reached their final goal. They had planned on arriving by nightfall, and it seemed they were not alone. At its present speed, he judged, the distant company would cross their path a mile outside the town.

His horse stamped and snorted, not understanding the delay, and Tarod turned to Cyllan. “Best play the lady for a while again, love. We may have to exchange a social grace or two before we reach Shu-Nhadek."

She smiled wryly, and swung her right leg back across her mount's withers, hooking her knee over the elaborate saddle pommel. She found the side-saddle posture awkward and uncomfortable, but no woman of quality would dream of riding any other way, and a woman of quality was what Cyllan was pretending to be.

With more than enough money in his pouch to see them to their journey's end, Tarod had reasoned that ostentation was their best form of disguise. The populace was alerted to hunt down two fugitives, and the idea that fugitives might hide by drawing attention to themselves wasn't logical. So they had stopped at the next sizeable town, and while Cyllan waited outside the walls Tarod had bought new clothes for them both and two well-bred horses to replace the big bay; a chestnut gelding for himself and a lightweight but fast gray mare for Cyllan. From then on, while he blurred their appearance and the memory of their faces in the minds of those they encountered, they had traveled under the guise of a prosperous vintner and his wife.

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