All seemed normal. The palace towers rose up ma-jestically, dominating but not overwhelming their surroundings, and through the trees she could see the tops of many familiar buildings. Yet on the wind there were strange noises. A crowd? She thought she had heard a crowd nearby as she had left the palace to clatter through the quiet by-ways of the City, but she had dismissed the notion; the Mathidrin held the streets too well for that. Now, as the distant sounds vied for her attention with the rustling trees she thought she heard again many voices raised in… anger… fear?

She leaned forward, face intent, but nothing would take shape for her. Even the wind felt disturbed, unnatural, now quiet, now tearing at her hysterically, and steadfastly refusing to deliver any clear answer to her query. For a moment she thought of moving further forward, to leave behind the shaking trees and come nearer to the City, but the urgency of her mission reasserted itself. Whatever had happened, it was unlikely she could do anything except be taken by the Mathidrin and held as who knew what kind of a hostage against Rgoric’s plans.

Turning round, she rode back down the hill, trotting the horse carefully but surely through the widely-spaced trees that covered the slope. Soon she would be well clear of the City and able to ride, ride, ride, over the Fyorlund countryside, each stride taking her further from that accursed brown streak Dan-Tor and nearer to her true friends and a new future with her husband.

It would be a long hard journey, but she had done worse in her Muster training, albeit many years ago, and just to be free from the cloying deception of the past months would sustain her far more than any physical prowess could. Ruthlessly she trampled down the ever-present fears for her husband, lest they infect her mount and, in slowing her progress, bring about their own tremulous prophecy.

At last she broke out of the trees to find herself at a high vantage-point. Reining to a halt, she paused to examine the countryside for signs of movement, but apart from the ruffling of the blustering wind, all was quiet. And there below was the old road which she should be able to follow for many miles, avoiding villages, and thus Mathidrin patrols.