8

Lady Ayo nods. "Trust your horse. It's a living, thinking creature, and the one you've got now is one of the smarter ones in the kingdom."

You think about this. Of course horses are living creatures, but you hadn't thought they could fight intelligently.

"But I haven't been in that many battles," Lady Ayo says. "A fair few, but not a hundred."

"How many?" you ask.

"Well, it's hard to say. There have been skirmishes, little border disputes, even a few tavern brawls if you want to count those. But real battles? In real wars? Well, the only war I've fought in was the Three Year War."

"Wow," says Fizza, "you fought in the Three Year War? One of the bloodiest in recent memory, I heard. The stories!"

"It was bloody," Lady Ayo says quietly, and Fizza winces and acts like she's suddenly very interested in the view of the valley down below.

But after a moment, Lady Ayo speaks up again, trying to brighten the mood. "You want to talk to a real veteran? Ask Sir Kelton—he's been in a hundred battles. Maybe a thousand!"

"You're trying to make me look old," Sir Kelton says. "Don't let her fool you; Lady Ayo has not only solved countless problems as the Queen's bodyguard, but she is also a decorated war hero. May have only fought in one official war, but I wouldn't be around if she hadn't."

"She saved your life?" Fizza exclaims in wonder.

"It was nothing. I just did what anyone would do," Lady Ayo says, her face red.

"Nonsense. I would have been stabbed through the chest, but this knight here caught the sword with her bare hand and twisted it clean out of my assailant's grasp. I've never seen someone run away so fast…."

That starts Lady Ayo and Sir Kelton off telling old war stories while Fizza gasps and you listen in wonder.

After about an hour, the four of you are near the border of Illan, high up the mountain range. The border crosses the shoulder of the mountain deep in the treeline, and the canopy of the evergreens overhead is so thick and dark that even the horses seem to be cautious. In many places, there is so little sun the trees' lower branches have died, leaving ghostly bare limbs and a deep carpet of pale red needles below. If any of you talks, it's in a whisper.

Then, you start to see signs that you're near.