I suppose I tried not to.

A waste. Why choose to be deaf? Or mute?

“Must you do this in my presence?” Burrich’s voice was stiff.

“Beg pardon,” I said, gravely aware that he was truly offended. Nighteyes snickered again. I ignored him. Burrich would not look at me. After a bit he nudged Ruddy and cantered forward to overtake Kettricken’s guard. I hesitated, then kept pace with him. He formally reported to Kettricken of all he had done before leaving Buckkeep, and she nodded gravely as if accustomed to taking such reports. At a signal from her, we were honored to fall back and ride to her left, while her captain of the guard, one Foxglove, rode to her right. Before dawn found us, the rest of the mounted soldiers from Buckkeep had caught up with us. When they joined us, Foxglove slowed the pace for a time, to allow their winded horses to breathe. But after we had come to a stream and let all the beasts water, we pushed on determinedly. Burrich did not speak to me.

Years earlier, I had made a trip to Neatbay as part of Verity’s entourage. Then it had taken us five days, but we had traveled with wagons and litters, jugglers and musicians and valets. This time we traveled by horse, with seasoned warriors, and we need not keep to the wide coast road. The only thing that did not favor us was the weather. By midmorning of our first day out, a winter storm swept in. It was miserable riding, not just for the physical discomfort but in the unsettling knowledge that the driving winds would slow our companion ships. Whenever our path took us overlooking the water, I watched for sails, but never saw any.

The pace Foxglove set was demanding but not destructive to horse or rider. While stops were not frequent, she varied the pace and saw that no animal wanted for water. At such stops, there was grain for the horses and hard bread and dried fish for their riders. If anyone ever noticed a wolf shadowing us, no one spoke of it. Two full days later, as dawn and a gap in the weather found us, we were looking out over the wide river valley that opened onto Neatbay.

Bayguard was the Keep of Neatbay. And Bayguard was the home Keep of Duke Kelvar and Lady Grace, the heart of Rippon Duchy. The watchtower was on a sandy cliff above the town. The Keep itself had been built on fairly level land, but fortified with a series of earthen walls and ditches. Once I had been told that no enemy had ever made it past the second wall. It was no longer true. We halted and looked out over the destruction.

The five Red-Ships were still drawn up on the beach. The boats of Neatbay, mostly small fishing vessels, were a burned and scuttled wreckage spread along the beach. The tides had played with them since the Raiders had destroyed them. Blackened buildings and smoldering wreckage fanned out from where they had landed, marking their path like a spreading contagion. Foxglove stood in her stirrups and pointed out over Neatbay, combining her observations with what she knew of the town and Keep. “It’s a shallow, sandy bay, all the way out. So when the tide goes out, it goes way out. They’ve drawn their boats up too high. If we can force them to retreat, we want to do it on a low tide, when their ships are sitting high and dry. They’ve cut through the town like a hot knife through butter: I doubt there was much of an effort to defend it, it’s not really defensible. Probably everyone headed for the Keep at the first sight of a red keel. It looks to me like the Outislanders have battered their way in past the third circle. But Kelvar should be able to hold them off almost indefinitely now. The fourth wall is worked stone. It took years to build. Bayguard has a good well, and her warehouses should still be fat with grain, this early in winter. She won’t fall unless she falls to treachery.” Foxglove stopped gesturing and settled in her saddle again. “It makes no sense, this attack,” she said more softly. “How can the Red-Ships expect to sustain a long siege? Especially if they are, in turn, attacked by our forces?”

“The answer could be that they did not expect anyone to come to Bayguard’s aid,” Kettricken said succinctly. “They have the town to pillage for supplies, and perhaps other ships are expected.” She turned to Kerf, motioned him alongside Foxglove. “I have no battle experience,” she said simply. “You two will have to plan this. I listen now, as a soldier. What should we do next?”

I saw Burrich wince. Such honesty is admirable, but not always good leadership. I saw Foxglove and Kerf exchange measuring glances. “My queen, Kerf has more battle experience than I. I would accept his command,” Foxglove offered quietly.

Kerf looked down, as if mildly ashamed. “Burrich was Chivalry’s man. He has seen far more battles than I have,” he observed to his mare’s neck. He looked up suddenly. “I commend him to you, my queen.”