Sienna Du’for's Arc

Chapter 19 of 19

Dawn had not yet broken when Sienna checked the last of the packs in the mill yard. She had bought the provisions in silence the night before, hard bread, dried meat, a wax-sealed flask of oil, a coil of rope, a whetstone. She had also bought two small daggers from a smith who did not ask questions. She knew nothing of daggers. She had won a fencing crown at twelve and another at fifteen, but a foil was not this. She weighed one blade in her gloved hand and did not like how it sat. Then she tucked both into the belt beneath her cloak. Clementine watched without comment. The road north would not be kind, and Sienna would rather carry the wrong weapon than none. A boy stepped out from behind the cart with a satchel across his chest and a rolled page in his fist. He was maybe sixteen, red-brown hair, ink on his cuffs. He introduced himself as Caspian Mortani, scribe of the Clan of Light, sent by Konda. "I am to travel with you," he said. "I write what happens. I hand the pages to Konda. That is all." Sienna's hand went to the dagger before she thought. Clementine touched her wrist. "Konda told me she would send someone," Clementine said, quiet. "She did not tell me who." Sienna studied the boy. He did not flinch. "If I tell you to leave a thing out, will you?" she asked. "No," Caspian said. "Even if it costs me my head at the end of the road?" "No." She almost laughed. It was the first honest answer she had heard in a month that did not come from Clementine. She thought of the poster on the timber post, of Cecilia counting captains in a sickroom, of a scribe writing her every misstep for a clan that would read it aloud. Then she thought of Clementine, who deserved a witness that would not lie about her. "Then you ride behind us," Sienna said. "You eat what we eat. You keep up. You do not use my old name in any page until I tell you." Caspian nodded once. "That I can do. The name is yours to give." Clementine climbed into the saddle first. Sienna swung up after her, the gown tucked, the daggers snug at her hip, the cloak pulled to hide the gold thread. Caspian mounted the third horse without fuss and drew a small book from his satchel. He began writing before they had cleared the yard. Sienna watched him from the corner of her eye and felt something settle in her chest that she had not expected. A stranger had joined them and she had not sent him away. She had chosen, plainly, to be seen. The road ahead was still hard. She had provisions now, blades she could not yet use, and one more pair of eyes she could not control. She turned the horse north and rode.