58

I glanced at Mother, wondering how much she'd expect of me.

Wherever I had visited in the past, Sol-Falena, Estrise, Lelcar, I'd had a clear reason to be there - to be a guest. Now, as we rode down the sparse grass newly risen around Lordlake, I wondered at this indefinite vacation. Once, I even twisted around in my saddle, looking back, not because I expected to be able to see my city being stormed and captured, but because...I don't know. Father says useless gestures have their place in politics. I find I need a few in my daily life. Looking home made me feel stronger.

Strong enough to look towards Lordlake.

I stood in the stirrups, trying not to be obvious about how I was frowning. "Chaz."

He cleared his throat; it was probably dry from dust. "My lady?"

"I've been to Lordlake before, but I've never really noticed...we haven't been met by a single checkpoint." I glanced at him, but he seemed to be waiting. "And looking there...the wall around the city is very low and very...er..."

"Scattered," Mother supplied from behind me. "The Sun Rune's work, probably."

"Yes. I'm just saying-" and here I lowered my voice "-we're bringing refugees to an indefensible town?"

"Until now," Chaz said, lifting his chin with the pride of a Sable soldier, "Lordlake never had to be defended. Sable took the brunt of the southern attacks."

"Okay, but the line of fire's moving north, and I don't even see sentries up there. Who's guarding this place?"

Mother, myself and our bodyguards rode to the head of the line, and by the time we approached the gates, a total of three people had come to greet us, faces all obscured by the peaked sombreros they'd obviously favored during the years of drought. One figure stepped in front of them, a woman who, by the bulge in her middle, was half a year pregnant.

Mother opened her mouth as though to speak - and nodded to me. I swallowed, scraping together something sufficiently polite and assured. "Hello-" (better skip any references to The Sun's blessing be upon you) "-we are Salisha and Melissa Raulbel, come to conduct these refugees from Sable." As if we knew there wasn't any problem but the people had to be humored. "We are inexpressibly grateful to Lordlake's hospitality during this difficult time." Maybe the inexpressibly was a bit much. I wished I could see their faces. The other two, both old men, hung back.

The woman finally tilted her face up, revealing Feitas-blue eyes and lined, dry skin. "Very well then, let yourselves in." She wasn't nasty about it, but she didn't even try for a smile. "We don't have a lot, I'm afraid."

"It won't be a problem." I lifted my voice, and glanced back, as if the whole column could hear me. "We'll do everything possible to keep from being a burden." Not that I had any idea how to do that. I wanted, wanted to look at Mother to see if she'd give me any indication of how I was doing, but I didn't. So I raised my hand. I'd seen it work for other people.

It did work. It worked! One of our riders trotted to my side, just like I was Dinn or Father. I relayed the order to the highest ranking soldiers to oversee our entrance into Lordlake - I think I said something about how I didn't want us cluttering the streets - I admit, I was vague, but I did the best I knew and stressed that there would be trouble if any damage to Lordlake was done. I wasn't sure how I'd enforce it so I prayed I wouldn't have to.

We ended up commandeering the old Rovere manor, which the people of Lordlake used as a communal storage house. We shifted what we could, cramming in as many people as possible, the rest foisting themselves on families or kipping on the streets. By the end of the first day, Mother found me sitting by the window in the room we shared with our bodyguards and fifteen others. I was sitting on the sill, the closest thing to elbow room I could get.

Mother looked out at the lake. "They say it was a dust bowl a few months ago."

"It's not as high as it used to be." I hadn't been to Lordlake often before the razing, but I remembered the clear blue lake. Lord Rovere had been a friend of Father's, but his children had all been too young for me to be friends with. The manor's finery existed only in remnants now: a painted ceiling, gouges in door frames that had once been inlaid with mother of pearl. Everything else must have been stolen, probably sold to bring food to the starving citizens. I rubbed my aching forehead. "I'm just glad they've been getting supplies. I hate how much we're imposing on them."

Mother nodded, then tapped my shoulder. "Let's see how everyone's doing."

I glanced towards the other people in the room, but they all seemed too busy to overhear. Still, I lowered my voice. "All the way up here we were doing that. Would taking a break be criminal?"

Mother gave me a hard look. "They're scared and in a new place. If we don't make things easier, there will be trouble."

I'm not sure we made things easier, but we made our rounds. I public spoke throughout, tired, my attention shifting from people's complaints to a hazy, mechanical daydream where I knew when to nod concernedly and when to smile. I mentally shook myself. No. Even if I didn't have the energy to make myself care about their problems, I had to pay attention. I couldn't protect them; paying attention was why I was there.

Sun above, it was hard. Especially when I noticed that Mother had (often) countermanded one of my orders to make things run more smoothly. Sun above, why didn't she just do this herself?

I thought being in a town would bring us into contact with the war again, but news was sporadic. Father and Grand had withdrawn from West Tower; in his letter, Grand didn't say where they were, only that Father had to be dragged forcibly away. Estrise's harbor had been taken by Shula Valya of Armes. Doraat was taken by Godwin. The Dawn Army was trapped between two strong enemies, two united enemies. I thought of the long-standing hostility between the Prince and the Godwin family. I thought of the generations of rage between Armes and Falena. I doubted either side would show its prisoners mercy.

"Can't sleep?" Mother whispered when we'd been in Lordlake for almost a week.

I shifted. We were all sleeping about four to a bed, sitting up with our backs against the wall, covers crumpled under our chins. When I didn't answer, Mother put her arm around me and guided my head to her shoulder. There I was, trying to be the strong Raulbel, and she was making me feel like a two year old. She stroked my hair while I slid into sleep.