WHEN Elenora rose the next morning and entered the kitchen, she found her father sitting at the table, alone. She stopped short and looked around. "Where has Aidan gone?" she asked in alarm; she had peeked into his room on her way to the kitchen, and it had been empty. "He’s not left already, surely!"

Old Geoff looked up calmly from his cup of tea. "Nay, lass," he assured her, with a hint of reproach in his voice. "D’ye honestly think our Aidan would up an’ leave without biddin’ ye farewell?"

Elenora shook her head and composed herself, hurrying to begin breakfast. "Then where has he got to?"

"Said he wanted to bid his horse good morn’," answered Old Geoff, going back to his tea. "Been there for an hour or two now, I reckon."

"An hour or two?" Elenora repeated, tying an apron around her waist and clicking her tongue disapprovingly. "Tch, and the sun scarcely up! He must be right starved by now, too. I’ll go an’ fetch him in for breakfast soon as I’m done."

Without looking up, Old Geoff smiled placidly. "Aye, Ele," he agreed. "You do that, lass."

In the three years that Aidan had lived in Dunan, Elenora had grown to know him well; thus she was not surprised when she went into the barn later and found it empty. The ground outside was muddy from the rain of yesterday, and the prints of Aidan’s boots and his horse’s great hooves were clearly visible.

Elenora followed the prints as they led into the forest behind the cottage, and then to a small, grassy hillock. Looking up, she could see the figures of Aidan and his horse at the top of it, standing still.

This place, called simply Lookout Knoll by the Dunan-folk, had been a favorite hiding place of Aidan’s; he had often liked to sit at the top alone, silently gazing out across the woodlands and moors of Umbra, and sometimes south where the mountain-border of Peredwyn could be faintly seen.

Now his gaze was directed northwest, towards the King’s City of Tialys. Elenora hesitated, not wishing to intrude, and then approached quietly. Aidan stood silently beside his horse, one arm draped over Breon’s neck, while the horse leaned his great golden head over Aidan’s shoulder, as though they were sharing thoughts.

Neither looked up as she approached, but Breon’s ear turned towards her. Aidan’s senses must have been nearly as sharp as his horse’s, for he showed no sign of surprise when she appeared beside him and took his hand; he merely glanced at her with a small smile.

There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind through the trees as it blew the rain-clouds eastward. Aidan and Elenora closed their eyes, letting the wind play through their hair and cool their faces. At last Aidan spoke.

"I had forgotten how quiet it was up here on Lookout Knoll," he said without opening his eyes. He drew in a deep breath and then looked out over Umbra again. "Even on a cloudy day, this view is still beautiful."

Elenora followed his gaze towards Tialys. "It is," she agreed softly. "But it will not be the same without you to look at it. You must come back and see it again when this contest is over."

Aidan turned to look at her, surprised for a moment, and then he smiled. "Of course," he said lightly, "nothing is kept from you for long, Ele."

Elenora’s violet eyes were solemn as she looked up at him. "You will be careful, won’t you?" she asked earnestly. "And you’ll look after Geoff?"

Seeing that she was serious, Aidan nodded with equal earnestness. "You know I will."

Elenora seemed to relax then, and she smiled. "Yes, I know, Aidan," she said, squeezing his hand. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then pulled a small piece of soft yellow cloth from her apron pocket. "D’you remember this? It’s one of the kerchiefs you and Young Geoff bought for me on your first trip to Penrick." She reached out and tied the kerchief to Aidan’s arm, and then looked up at him with a smile. "Young Geoff wears one, too. Just like the knights of old who wore their lady’s colors when they went out to battle. You an’ Young Geoff are my knights, Aidan, and I want you both t’ wear my colors. Such as they are," she added, blushing.

Suddenly she seemed self-conscious, and lowering her eyes she stepped back a little. Aidan was silent a moment, looking down at the kerchief tied around his arm, and then he reached out and pulled Elenora into an embrace. "Thank you, Ele," he said softly. "I will be proud to wear your colors." They pulled back and he grinned. "I hope you didn’t give Geoff the rose-colored kerchief. That was the finest one—I picked it out for you."

Elenora gave him an equally mischievous smile. "He wouldn’t have let me if I’d tried," she said. "No, he’s got the blue one. The one he picked out."

They laughed together, and then with one last look towards Tialys, they turned and leading Breon behind them, headed back to the cottage.

Farewells were kept brief, for Aidan started later than he’d planned. Old Geoff gruffly shook his hand and then embraced him, wishing him a good journey. He kissed Elenora on the cheek and she bravely smiled through her tears. While he double-checked his saddle-bags, she disappeared inside the cottage for a moment, and then emerged again just as he swung up in the saddle. In her hands was a wooden cup modestly decorated with knotwork carvings.

"You wouldn’t leave without a stirrup-cup, would you?" she asked. "’Twould be bad luck!"

Aidan smiled. "Of course! Well done, Ele. I’d forgotten."

The stirrup-cup was an old tradition that survived almost only in small towns like Dunan. Before starting on a journey, the traveler would be given a cup of wine or ale for a safe journey. If he was a close friend or family member, the lady of the house would give him the cup with her own hands.

Elenora reached up and handed him the cup, murmuring the traditional

blessing. "Heaven guide your path."

Aidan raised the cup. "And grant me swift return," he finished, putting the cup to his lips and swallowing the ale. "Farewell!" He handed the cup back to Elenora, nodded to Old Geoff and then turned his horse and rode out to the road. There he paused to turn and raise his hand in farewell.

Elenora and Old Geoff waved. "Safe journey, Aidan!" they called. "Farewell!"

Their voices faded into the distance as he urged Breon into a gallop and followed the wide dirt road, leaving Dunan behind him.

* * *

The first three days of Aidan’s journey were uneventful and he traveled swiftly, sleeping outside under the stars and lingering in towns only long enough to buy what extra provisions he needed. By the third day, the terrain had become open and hilly, with small copses scattered about.

Around mid-afternoon the weather, which had so far been pleasant, turned against him. Dark, angry stormclouds bubbled up on the horizon, and the wind abruptly changed from a gentle breeze to sharp, biting gusts. Aidan could see a thick veil of rain looming ahead of him as the storm was pushed forward at an alarming rate of speed.

Pulling up the hood of his cloak—and silently thanking Elenora for patching it up and adding new lining to it—Aidan surveyed his surroundings. He knew from examining his map earlier (he had never been this far north, himself) that the village of Stratton-on-Tor was only a mile or two away, but both the approaching curtain of rain and the rolling hills blocked it from view. The wind steadily increased until it was a shrieking howl, whipping back Breon’s mane and Aidan’s cloak. Breon pranced nervously, and Aidan nudged him forward. Abandoning his plans to sleep outside, he resolved to reach Stratton-on-Tor and find an inn to lodge in for the night, if the storm had not abated sooner.

Riding into the blinding tide of windblown rain made it extremely difficult for him to keep his bearings and continue in the correct direction, but at last, as the downpour began to lessen slightly, he reached the gates of Stratton-on-Tor. Receiving directions from the gatekeepers, Aidan found The White Fox Innwithout difficulty. As he rode up to the door and dismounted, two ostlers came to take his horse. He first unfastened the saddlebags, and then with a reassuring pat to Breon’s neck he allowed them to lead the horse into the stables behind the inn.

Inside, he was greeted warmly by the Inn-keep—a tall, round, ruddy-faced man called Jarem—and soon found himself being led briskly down a hall and up a set of creaking wooden stairs to his room. It was small, and sparsely furnished; only a small bed in the corner, a night-table beside it, and a rickety chest of drawers at the opposite end of the room. A wide stone fireplace occupied the far wall, though it was cold, and there were two windows with barred panes in the wall by the bed through which Aidan could see the rain beating down furiously.

"If ye’ll let me take that cloak o’ your’n, young sir, I’ll hang it up by the ’earth in the common-room ‘ta dry," offered Jarem. Aidan thanked him, gratefully pulling off the dripping cloak and handing it to him. The Inn-keep added, "I’ll send a boy up ‘ta get a fire goin’ in yer hearth, too, so’s the rest of you c’n dry off."

"Thank you, sir, but I can get a fire going myself," replied Aidan. "I’m sure you’ve all been run off your feet with all the contestants on their way to Tialys."

The man’s kindly face broke into an appreciative smile, and he touched his cap. "Thank’ee kindly, sir. ’Tis true, we’ve been kept right busy with all them trav’lers passin’ through, but today’s been slow, so far." He paused. "Is that where ye’re bound, sir? If ye don’t mind me askin’."

Aidan nodded as he took out his flint and tinder from his pack. "Yes," he said, "although if the weather stays the way it is, I may be too late." He struck the flint twice before a flame leapt up, and in moments the room was filled with its warm golden glow.

"By the way that wind’s a-blowin’," said Jarem, who had watched with interest as he lit the fire, "I’d say ’twill be gone by morn’."

Aidan rummaged through his pack to find a dry overtunic. "I’m glad to hear it," he said as he did so. "I enjoy the rain as much as anyone, but this downpour does make travel a bit difficult."

"Aye," agreed Jarem, chuckling. He liked this cheerful young fellow, he decided. Then he cleared his throat. "Well, sir, I’ll leave you ‘ta dry off. If ye’d like, I c’n send someone up with a bit o’ supper, or ye can join us in the common-room whenever ye like."

"Thank you, sir," said Aidan. "I think I might spend a while in the common-room. Are you very crowded today?"

"Nay, as I said today’s been slow, an’ there’s just an ’andful o’ guests in right now."

"Splendid." Aidan smiled. "It sounds as though an evening spent in the common-room tonight will be enjoyable!"

The common-room, Aidan found, was warm and inviting, with a fire crackling in the enormous hearth at one end of it. As Jarem had said, there were not many guests present. Three men Aidan guessed to be hunters sat at the bar on the left side of the room, an old man was seated a short distance away, and in the far corner, one man sat alone in the shadows. All looked up and nodded amiably when he entered. "Just find a table an’ make yerself at ’ome, sir," said Jarem affably, coming over to him. "I’ll send someone with a drink to warm ye in a moment."

Aidan thanked him and took a table in the other corner by the hearth, near the old man, who turned and gave him a friendly grin. Aidan noticed with a very slight shudder that the man had only one eye; the other was tightly shut, with a long jagged scar across the lid. Hastily turning his attention to the less disconcerting parts of the man’s face, Aidan returned the smile politely.

A few moments later a serving-girl came by with a frothy mug of ale, which Aidan accepted gratefully. The White Fox was well-known for having the finest ale in all of Umbra, and after tasting it Aidan certainly agreed. Within minutes he was warm, dry and comfortable. While he sipped his ale, he took the opportunity to observe his fellow-guests more closely.

The three hunters at the bar seemed kindly, in their own gruff way, and Aidan was immediately comfortable with their presence, having spent some time with hunters in his travels. The old one-eyed man also seemed friendly, in a slightly unsettling way. As for the man in the far corner, across the hearth from Aidan, it was difficult to tell. From the doorway, the flames had thrown shadows across his face, but from where he now sat Aidan could see him easily. He was a young man, perhaps a few years older than Aidan himself, with tawny hair that fell around his shoulders and a face that was surprisingly gentle-featured. He seemed entirely occupied with his own mug of ale, but every so often Aidan saw his eyes flicker upwards to survey the common-room briefly and almost idly. Obviously this was a man who, like Aidan, had learned to be wary at all times. A woodsman, perhaps, or a ranger, on his way to the Challenge?

Aidan’s musings were interrupted when Jarem came over to inquire whether he would be interested in a bit of supper? Realizing that he was in fact quite hungry, Aidan thanked him and said that he would. "Ye’re in luck tonight, young master," said the innkeeper with a wink. "We’ve several fine roast fowl an’ my Elspie’s baked a batch o’ fresh bread to go with it."

Beaming, Jarem hurried off, leaving Aidan alone again with his thoughts. With the same discreet motion of his eyes above the rim of his mug, he cast another curious glance at the young man in the corner, and nearly choked on his ale when he found himself confronted with a pair of keen amber eyes doing exactly the same to him.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then the young man gave a small smile and with a gesture, invited Aidan to his table. Slightly bemused, Aidan picked up his ale and did so, taking the empty seat across from him.

The man held out his hand. "My name is Farin." His voice was cultured but, like Aidan’s own, held a faint hint of the distinctive Lowland lilt.

"Aidan." They shook hands and Farin’s friendly smile widened. Warming to the man at once, Aidan returned the gesture. There was a brief silence between them as they both sipped their ale, but it was not an uncomfortable one.

Then Farin looked up again. "So. Bound for Tialys, as well, are you?"

Aidan nodded. "Aye. From here it is half a day’s ride, is it not? I have not been this far north before."

"At a moderate pace, yes. But with an early enough start, and clear weather, one could get there in less than five hours, I’d guess. Four, even, with a good horse." Seeing Aidan’s look of curiosity, he added, "I lived in Tialys for several years, when I was a city guard."

Aidan’s eyes widened. "An honorable position!" he said. He hesitated, then asked, "Is Tialys everything it’s said to be?"

Farin cocked an eyebrow. "Well, that would depend on what’s said about it," he said wryly. "It is not, for instance, guarded by a sea-monster, nor does it have streets paved with gold, magical walls that cannot be dented, or a fleet of dragon-riders patrolling the skies around it." They both laughed. "It is a marvelous place, though, even without the dragon-riders," continued Farin, taking a sip of his ale. "It is always filled with noise and color, people coming and going… A bit overwhelming at first: I’m quite sure I spent my first week in the city with my mouth wide open, gaping at everything."

Aidan grinned. "I look forward to seeing it." He started to say more, but was interrupted when Jarem, with a serving-girl called Mandy in tow, came over to their table with supper for both of them. Beaming at their thanks, he bustled off again, while Mandy collected their half-empty mugs of ale and replaced them with full ones. With a flirtatious wink at Aidan, she hurried away with a swish of her skirts.

Farin raised his eyebrows at Aidan’s flushed and slightly horrified face, but did not comment, instead taking a large swallow of his ale to suppress the grin that twitched at the corners of his mouth. Aidan glanced suspiciously at him but when no remark was forthcoming he smiled wryly and turned his attention to the modest but delicious-looking meal laid out before them.

There was not much more conversation that evening. After supper, they spoke for an hour or two longer, and then they left the common-room and parted for their own quarters with an agreement to travel together on the morrow.

Aidan was smiling when he closed the door of his room and sat down on the edge of the bed. The rain outside was already slowing, beating against the windowpanes in a gentle, steady rhythm, mingling with the quiet crackle of the fire in the hearth. Aidan found these familiar sounds peaceful, and they added to the lightness of his heart as he sat in thought.

He looked forward to tomorrow’s ride, and hoped it would give him the opportunity to know Farin better. Aidan felt a sense of companionship with the man already, as they seemed similar in many ways, and it would no doubt be an enjoyable journey.

Best of all, it was a journey that would lead him to a reunion with Young Geoff. Whatever doubts he had felt about leaving Dunan had vanished now, and he was eager for what was to come. The sights and sounds of Tialys, Young Geoff, other Challengers and then—who could tell?

Tomorrow would be an exciting day.