Hand of Grace

The Journey Begins

Nine weeks after the night that Sol had stopped pulsing, Lord Teles told his second in command, Lieutenant Rauno of the lesser Merchant House Perry, to order their men forth. The men, all seventeen of them and their pack horses rode past, followed by Lords Ulha and Decrea and the incubi Fridan and Jahri as he and Anne stood before the queen. He nodded to Anne and the two of them left the palace lastly. He saluted the Queen as she fell out of sight. Then, as he had explained to Anne to do, they pushed their mounts to a brief canter so that they could settle in the middle of the party.

As they rode, Teles patted his right boot again. The knife that Kelhon had given him was secure. Kelhon wasn't one for sentiment, but he'd imbued the blade with strength and some sort of seeker enchantment. If he held the blade with a clear mind, he would be able to somehow allow Kelhon to mind-speak him. His friend wasn't sure about the range. He'd had the enchantment strengthened by some other cubi in the city, but they weren't First Ranks, he'd confessed. Though he had a few in his possession, Teles wasn't terribly fond of unnatural items. He couldn't bring himself to refuse the blade though. Kelhon thought it would serve a purpose. It wouldn't hurt to take it along. He needed a knife after all.

The men remained stern until two hours of riding had put the city gates long behind them. They began to talk and joke as men typically do. Though he was an officer, young Rauno joked with them. Teles didn't know too much about House Perry. He knew that they had some Asterian blood in them and that they had built up their prominence and prestige by importing Asterian luxury goods: silks, wines, whatnot. Rauno was the third son. He had chosen a life in the military to the surprise of his family. He was well-suited for it though. His instructors at the Academy had highly praised him when Teles had asked. They said that he was the best student they had had in recent memory, second to only Teles himself. He was bright, inquisitive, eager to please, and had an air of command about him. His only shortcoming was that, outside of the battlefield or strategy room, he would lose that air of command and became socially shy. He would only talk once he had shared someone's company for a while.

Teles thought that was brilliant. He hated people who talked too much, especially on a long trip such as this one. He'd had a little bit of backlash when he'd announced his selection to the council. The council was of the opinion that only pure-blooded Lledans should participate in this mission. Anne had called them all idiots, sealing the matter for Jade.

Teles saw Rauno rub his hand across his shaved, dark head and absently hoped that the young man had listened to him when he told them to pack a hat. N'aaden was going to be cold if they were thrown off their tight schedule and were forced to linger. Then again, Teles appraised the company. He had personally hand-picked all of them. None of them were stupid. A few even had reconnaissance experience up in N'aadian mountains. They were the best of the best outfitted with the best of the best; the best armor, weapons, horses. Even their rations were choice.

The highlight of all of this was the crossbow that hung from Lady Anne's saddle. Built exactly to her specifications, Teles had never seen its like. Beautifully carved wood and polished, smooth gears. Capable of firing three shots without reloading. She had been given two quivers filled with silver tipped bolts. Teles doubted she would need more than one shot. She had dead aim. Remarkable for a woman, or, for that matter, any person freshly plucked from the streets.

He threw her a sidelong look and admired her seat, noting that she was a newly minted horsewoman as well. He should have balked at the idea of traveling with a woman, but the Terran had been more active than she had initially indicated. She hadn't been that difficult to train and she hadn't resisted the idea of having to wear leather pants during the journey. She'd actually been relieved! The only trouble that he anticipated during this ordeal would be her hair. He was loathe to ask her to cut it, but he wasn't sure how she was supposed to keep her long curls from turning into a snarled mess. She'd solved that problem herself by oiling her hair and tying it in a carefully plaited, but tight braid. Such an incredibly practical woman.