Ellis saw Kit stiffen. Haffolk was the name the Dale inhabitants used for themselves and was the respectful and proper term. “D’race,” however, was a contraction from “mixed race,” a word used only by humans and considered impolite at best—and an insufferable insult at worst.
“It’s not what the world is coming to,” the woman joined his lament, “it’s where it bleedin’ is.”
“’Sooth,” the man agreed.
“Let me see the package,” the woman said to Ellis, making a “come” motion with her upturned hand.
Ellis removed a box about twelve inches square from his courier’s bag and placed it on the table.
The woman eyed it suspiciously, noting the addresses of both the sender and the receiver.
“What’s in it?” she asked.
“How should we know?” Kit snapped. Ellis noted her hand was tight on the hilt of her weapon.
Ellis was eager to mediate Kit’s aggression. “We don’t open the packages, I’m afraid. That’s against the law. We just deliver them.” Ellis wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know. Couriers passed through the border in both directions daily.
The woman turned to face the man. “I don’t know about these two,” she said. “Something smells off.”
“I know just what you mean. You can smell a d’race a mile away.” Then the man burped loudly.
“I’m not sure what to do about them,” she tapped her fingers on the table.
“We’re right here,” Kit seethed. “We can hear you.”
“If you’ll pardon me,” Ellis said. “But Hearth postal regulation 5, subsection D guarantees unimpeded courier service between reservation territories and Hearth municipal districts—which Rhory is, even though off-planet, subsequent to the Quintin Fieldmanor act.”
The man nudged the woman, “Givin’ himself airs.”
“I see that.” The woman turned back to the haffolk. She pointed to Ellis’ chest. “That’s a nice necklace.”
Ellis’ hand went to the medallion he wore—the same medallion he had been wearing since he had first been shipped off-world to Everdale.
“What is it?” she asked, peering at it.
Ellis’ hand closed over it, holding it tight, covering the design.
“I’d like a necklace like that,” the woman said to the man next to her.
“It’d look good on you, it would,” the man nodded.
The woman looked Ellis in the eye and cocked her head.
“It’s my birth medal,” he said. “And you can’t have it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Too bad, then. Well, our work is done here. Passage denied.”
“For what reason?” Kit asked, incredulous.
“Suspicious package,” the woman said. “Might be poison.”
Ellis scowled at them. He shook the package. “That would be a lot of poison.”
“Might be an explosive,” the man said to the woman.
Ellis tossed the package on the table. It landed with a thud that made the man jump. He was losing his temper, which was usually Kit’s response, not his. This time, however, Kit intervened. She grabbed the package and dutifully replaced it in the courier bag hanging from Ellis’ shoulder. “We’ll need to file a report,” she said. “So we’ll need your names.”
The woman turned her papers over. “No, you won’t.”
Kit grew louder. “You are standing in the way of our delivery, and we’ll need to explain why. Give us your names.”
“Shall I call security over, to rough them up?” the man asked casually.
Eyes locked on Kit, the woman slowly smiled, as if to suggest she would like that very much.
Kit’s jaw was set like granite, but she grabbed Ellis’ elbow and steered him away.
“They’re trolls,” she said.
“I wouldn’t be saying bad things about trolls, if I were you,” Ellis cautioned.
“Come on,” she kept pulling him, back through the line, away from the gate. “When I’m sheriff…” Kit trailed off.
“We have a duty to deliver this package,” Ellis insisted.
“You’re whining again.”
“I’m not whining. I’m saying—”
“I know, and we will deliver it,” Kit said.
“How?”
“Only one thing to do,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Sneak.”
Cormoran swore as he took the ridge. Orfek was gasping for breath behind him. Clearly the dwarf was made for battle, not long distance sprinting. The slope was steep, and Cormoran paused to let them both catch their breaths. “It’s taken us too long,” he confessed his fear. “We won’t catch up to him.”
“Aye, we might not head him off,” Gravelhorn agreed, “but we may yet be able to clean up after ’im.”
Cormoran didn’t disagree with that. “Can you carry on?”
“My lord, it would take a lot more than this to slow me down.”
Cormoran smiled sadly, his eyes moving to the battle raging beneath them. “My place is down there, not chasing after Ealon.”
“And it’s not my place to question your father’s wisdom in sending him to this battle,” Gravelhorn said, “but…”
He left it at that, and Cormoran nodded as he turned to follow the ridge and his errant brother. “My father’s wisdom is sound—”
“‘Course it is, lord,” Gravelhorn said, too quickly.
“What I mean is, under ordinary circumstances, a king would want his son—even a second son—to gain experience in battle. You cannot lead if you do not fight.”
“No, lord. ’Tis true.”
“But there’s no such thing as ‘ordinary circumstances’ where Ealon is involved.”
Gravelhorn said nothing. His dwarfish legs had to work faster than Cormoran’s own to carry him as far and as quickly. But he was the most dependable, loyal, indefatigable sideman Cormoran had ever known. Finally, the dwarf said, “Where the devil is he going?”
“My guess is to the rebel general’s camp. See,” he pointed back along the ridge to their own general’s camp. “Both of our camps are along this ridge, just in front of the treeline. It’s the only thing in this direction.”
“Is he planning to single-handedly take out their command?” Orfek asked. “I mean, he has little enough skill with a sword.” A moment later, he added, “Begging your pardon, lord.”
“No, ’tis true enough. There are plenty who don’t dare speak truth to their sovereigns, Orfek, but more should. We are far from perfect. We pretend we are gods, but we are often as blind as moles, and just as dug in. I cherish your candor.”
“Thank you, lord,” Gravelhorn said, although he did not sound very certain.
Just through a stand of trees, Cormoran saw the bright colors of the rebels’ pavilion. He held his hand up, a gesture meaning both “halt” and “silence.” Gravelhorn froze, waiting for further instructions.