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“You’ll be gaunt as a stick. Whatever I think of my brother, I’d not have Randon say I’ve abused his bride.”
    “Then you can tell him you are no master of mine, and that I refused the food you offered,” Kayli said serenely. “I am well accustomed to fasting on occasion, sometimes for longer than this. I will not starve in five days, and even if I did,” she added mockingly, “would that not only further your own cause?”
    “Indeed it wouldn’t,” Terralt snapped. “What support would any lord in Agrond give a man with no better honor than to starve a woman in his charge?”
    Kayli was silent. She had made the remark to provoke a reaction, but it was not the one she had expected. Now she wondered again why Lord Randon had sent his brother on this journey. Was it to test Terralt’s loyalty? Or was it, perhaps, a test of Kayli herself? Whose game was being played here?
    “So you said you had studied magic,” Terralt said presently. “What magic have you learned?”
    Kayli heard the challenge in his voice and set down her cup. She closed her eyes and completed the brief meditation to clear her thoughts, then reached forward into the fire. She withdrew her hand, opening it to show Terralt the red coal on her palm, then tossed the lump back into the flames.
    “Impressive,” Terralt admitted. “But what purpose does it serve?”
    “No purpose,” Kayli said, shrugging. “It is but a test of sorts. Anyone could learn as much with the proper teaching, mage or not. But what must I prove?”
    “I didn’t ask for idle curiosity,” Terralt said impatiently. “Soon we’ll be crossing border lands where Sarkondish raiders often strike, both in Agrond and Bregond. If any spies noted the messengers passing back and forth, or saw me and my guards on our way to Bregond, raiding parties may be preparing an ambush. A mage could be useful in a fight.”
    “I am not a mage,” Kayli admitted. “Not yet. I left the temple before I had progressed so far in my training. Endra knows a few simple healing magics, though. She trained as a midwife in one of the healing orders, although her gift of magic was not sufficient for her Dedication.”
    Terralt shrugged dismissively.
    “Can you at least use that dagger at your hip?”
    Kayli touched the sheath.
    “This is a thari, a ceremonial dagger, not meant for battle,” she said. “My training at the temple left no time for schooling in the warrior’s art. But I am practiced with my bow, and my maids can fight with bow or sword if there is need.”
    The words came hard; how disgraceful, to hide behind the swords of her maids when the Order had stressed self-reliance above all else. That was, of course, why only the truly gifted were Dedicated to the temple; the pace of study left no time for learning the equally demanding art of swordplay, or of mastering any other trade by which they might support themselves. Only Kayli’s aptitude for hunting and the Order’s need for game to supplement their small herd had allowed Kayli to maintain her skill with horse and bow.
    Terralt only shook his head, as if disappointed.
    “Your father offered troops to escort us to the border.” He sighed. “I should have accepted. But we would have been delayed while he mustered the men, supplies, and wagons, and a larger caravan would be all the more noticeable. I thought haste more important.”
    Kayli shrugged and sipped her broth.
    “As a precaution, I will have the horses I brought saddled,” she said. “All of my maids can ride, and if necessary we could abandon the wagons and make good speed.”
    “Abandon the—” Terralt choked, coughed, and spat out his mouthful of meat. “Abandon the wagons! Your entire dowry and eight wagons of gifts and trade goods, abandon them!”
    Kayli suppressed a flare of irritation. Let Terralt die defending gifts and trade goods if he liked. She and her maids would show better sense.
    Terralt was still shaking his head.
    “Likely there’s no