(Sure, Chance is a horse. In direct descent from the Mares of Diomedes, with Bucephalus as a contributing sire.)

"Don't worry, honeybunch. Got a woman-house worth of robes here; once you're tucked into them it won't matter how the wagon rattles. Nothing bad's going to happen to you. Once we're out of here the Governor will know perfectly well which road we're on, and we can take off that gag, okay?"

Several muffled noises later, Baku grunted again.

"How'd you do that? Like trying to put pants on an eel. We're not going to hurt you. Now just stay put! Biri, can you keep an eye on this nice lady? Don't let anything heavy fall on her."

"Okay, Baku. Where's mama?"

"Just saddling up. She's fine. Ow!"

Arranging a net of rope that would make passage possible — if not probable — Natan laughed.

"It finally happened. You found a female who doesn't care if you smile at her. Nu, I hope for a future in which you'll allow me to make your acquaintance."

He passed a couple ties across Biri, boxed in with pillows, and one across the nest of silk and kidnap victim.

"I hope for a way out of here," Jeidi called. "Natan, you want to take the reins? If I can't find a ride of my own I'll end up riding double with Mari, again. I don't want Kris glaring at me, again!"

"Be happy, kid. If we all burn up here you won't have to worry about it."

"If there was nothing left of Kris but black skull, he'd still manage to glare. And there'd be red coals in the sockets!"

"You know, you've got a point there. Come on. I'll help you find a nice safe pony."

"Sure wish I knew what Mary said."

The wagon team faced the wall of fire, but they couldn't see it. Jeidi had unfolded painted canvas screens to block their view. From the kylin's saddle though, Esara had a fine view of the vertical inferno. Just in the last few breaths tiles had begun to drop as the roof shakes burnt through.

Everything seemed frozen for an instant between one breath and the next. Two layers of canvas over the wagon, the topmost watersoaked, and Biri and the captured watchdog underneath. The Chakusan on the wagon bench, more soaked canvas wrapped around him. The Larabis mounted, Kris at the head of the wagon team, and Mari behind the rear wheel. Baku still at the corral door, discouraging the servants any time the Governor convinced them to run into a burning building, and Jeidi on a small horse some paces behind him, holding the reins of a larger mount.

The Sankesu was on foot, the reins of another stolen horse looped under the heavy crate beside him. Esara hadn't seen Vin since the corral, but Kris was unalarmed; he could suppose the feral safe and ready.

An iron maul lay on the crate by Hosaiya. Earlier Esara had thought to hand it to him, and gave up on the gesture when all he managed was to shift the haft slightly. He nodded to it now.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Hosaiya grinned, his teeth red with firelight, hefted the maul, and stepped toward the main remaining support column on the left. Esara reined Chance toward a similar column on the right. Fire had been burning at their bases since long before an alarm was raised, and long before the showy flames on the rest of the wall. What mattered now was the portion of their strength that remained.

Hosaiya swung the maul as casually as a bored child kicking at grass. The blow echoed through the warehouse. It even silenced Cinrein, shouting at laborers in the now empty corral.

"Again."

With the swing of the maul he cued Chance to kick. A heavier beast might manage more power, but they wouldn't have Chance's precision. And this was the more compromised of the two columns.

Hosaiya's side broke first. With a groan its base crumbled. Shards of charcoal sprayed out. The wall cracked away from the corner on that side. It seemed to hesitate on the edge of falling inward, and Hosaiya swung the maul over his head and struck far up on the same column. The left side of the wall swung outward, twisting around the rightward column, and then Chance kicked again.

All of a piece, leaving sparks arced above it, the wall fell outward. Even before it hit the ground Chance had turned, and Esara was knocking the canvas screens across the flaming base, one, two, three and more. Hosaiya joined him, throwing canvas wherever fire still licked up. Natan snapped the reins, shouting, "Hassha!", and Kris grabbed the headstall of the lead as he kicked his own horse into motion.

The canvas was blackening already as they rolled over it, but the flames were hidden. The team rushed forward, turned smoothly to the right and uphill, crossed a rocky curb and the kitchen garden, veering to the left again as they circled the adobe mansion and Chance snapped at something cackling in the air.

"Spirits! Think I took out a corner of the chicken hutch."

The wagon careened sharply downhill, the horses racing to stay ahead of it, and then Natan steered them to the right again and they were on the main road down from the Governor's mansion.

They were far past the marketplace when Natan drew the panting team down to a walk.

"They have to cool down. Besides, we'd better check nothing came loose back there."

"Biri, are you doing well?"

"Yes, mama. But the girl back here sure is mad!"

Baku brightened, but Kris spoke up before he could volunteer his services.

"Right. Guess we'd better leave off our passenger. Natan, you see a good place to rest ahead of us?"

"Looks like a cottonwood off the road a bit, maybe two songs ahead. Might be water close by. Anyway we can give the horses a little from the barrel here, make sure the harnesses are still laying right, maybe take a break ourselves."

Esara slid to the road, staggering a bit from the pain and relief of walking straight-legged again.

"We should plan on some further distance before daylight, but I heartily concur. Midnight flight is too often the result of error for my happiness.

Chance turned his long neck and dropped a dead chicken into Esara's hands.

"Many thanks for your consideration. I don't think we'll be stopping long enough to eat now; may I save it for later?"

The kylin's head bobbed in seeming agreement, and his gait showed a parade flair as Esara tucked the chicken under canvas at the back of the wagon. Jeidi watched, open mouthed.

"Maybe a kylin isn't like a horse after all. Maybe they're big barn cats. With hooves."

"How willing the young are, to dwell with danger."

Sidling casually closer, Chance suddenly snapped at Jeidi's leg. Fortunately the pony he rode was warier and leapt aside. Jeidi swayed precariously but kept his seat.

"What was that about?"

While Kris and Natan went to find the water they could smell, Baku lifted the Governor's beastborn out of the wagon and seated her on a boulder.

"There's water here, and we've got enough canvas to rig up some sort of sunshade. And the Governor will be after us just as soon as he can get men and horses together — though that may take a while — so you won't be sitting here long. I'm real sorry we had to get you involved, but it's over now."

Communication through a carefully knotted scarf was light on specifics but very clear as to mood.

"Yeah, guess we can take that off now . . . ."

"You hen-witted, ox-headed, coyote-coated, sparrow-hearted, piece of manure! Don't you dare leave me here! What sort of Highborn do you think is coming after me, in the care of that fleshlump?"

Jeidi was checking the hooves of the team as Hosaiya held them steady. He leaned over to ask, "Is that something like what Mary said?"

"Mmm. A leaf on the same branch perhaps. A rich oak-hearted brew, but lacking the silver tips of culture."

"You sound like you're talking about tea, not cursing."

"Do I? Well, one must consider the affinities of converse and cups, how drink smooths debate and words lend flavor to the simplest brew . . . ."

"Now I'll admit I deserve some of that, beautiful lady, but why waste those sweet lips on such bitter words?" Buck argued. "Once you know me better I'm sure you'll feel more kindly . . . ."

"Words are a waste, with a wax-eared jelly-brained idiot," the new beastborn agreed, and slapped him. "I hope that works better."

"If you're not going to tell me what Mari said, just say so! You guys got more secrets than that so-called Highborn!"

"A heart like a buried jar," Esara murmured behind him. 'A heart like a buried jar / holds a secret in the cold.'

Jeidi startled, backed away, and only then realized that Chance had ambled up behind him.

"Ow! Why is your stupid horse trying to eat me? Look, I'm bleeding."

Esara ignored him to address the kylin.

"I cannot fault the impulse, dear heart, but it does make me question your taste. Surely the dryest of grasses would be sweeter?"

"Nobody ever, ever, gives me a straight answer. Don't know why I stick around."

Jeidi bent to his work again. Chance snorted, and walked uphill to the untrodden grass. Buck was still trying to inveigle the new beastborn, but she ignored him. Once she'd brushed hay and dirt off her frayed tunic, and confirmed that the kylin was out of her way, she circled around the team to confront Esara.

"Looks like I'm yours now."

"Jan-beastborn, there's no reason to maintain a masquerade any longer . . . ."

"Then you're going to leave me here in the wilderness until Cinrein — may he die of scorpions — picks me up again?"

"We're not going to leave you here!"

"Then I'm traveling with you, and I want everything wrapped up clean and sure. The one called Inesu asks your guidance."

By this time the response was automatic. His baggage was in the wagon somewhere (no time to sort the contents now), but he found a kerchief that would do for a collar and as impersonally as possible knotted it about the beastborn's neck. He appreciated the irony that kept showering him with wealth — as Highborn counted such things — out here in the wilderness, where it did no good to himself or anyone else.

Inesu stepped back, looking pleased, or at least mordantly satisfied.

"The others haven't been here long enough to tell you, but three moons ago Cinrein had visitors from the south. I can tell you their names and when they came. He's working with the barbarian tribes. The Governor's a traitor."

Now that was useful. Judge Teravisu couldn't be too distant on this trail. In three or four days, a week at most, he'd be able to report. After that this situation would be clarified, and he could claim the promised reward.

His hands itched to sort through the wagon's contents, but he wasn't foolish enough to count his tiles while the draw was still unfinished.

"Hosaiya, a hand here?" Kris called.

Filled, the water barrel was a heavy load for two men together. The big beastborn retrieved it from Kris and Natan and heaved it into place in the wagon as if it was only a jug. Inesu took a seat on the driver's bench by Natan. As they moved onto the road she began plucking Chance's gift. Esara rode alongside when he saw feathers drifting onto the road.

"Leaving a trail?" he asked, lightly.

Delightful as the pretence of loyalty could be, he knew none of the beastborn were actually bound to him. Betrayal was, as always, an omnipresent possibility.

"Half a trail," she answered. "As long as the Governor's nose-blind see feathers, they won't even look for where a wagon could leave the road."

No son of his mother could fail to admire a clever woman. Esara bowed from the saddle.

"'Some part of her the wind moves . . . ." 'Long robes and long hair / some part of her the wind moves / not the settled heart.'

She couldn't know the reference, and explanation would spoil the moment, so he tried to show his admiration in his face and hands. She smiled, anyhow.

They left the road at first light. Vin's pinto stayed hitched to the wagon as the feral went on with Chance's hen, to lay a false trail and then wipe out the traces they couldn't avoid as he joined them again. Esara still had not heard a word from him, but had faith in his ability to obscure the trail.

Which was trust of a sort, and the best he gave any man.

The beastborn made camp, with the unhesitating grace of long practice. Jeidi looked dubiously at Chance for a moment, and then went to picket the horses. Esara set the kylin's gear aside and groomed him himself, careful not to stint him but without unnecessary elaboration.

Chance's ears went back when he set the brushes down and turned away. Esara felt a drag and clapped hands on his hat. He was too late.

"Not the hat. You know there are no proper hatters this side of the Ocean River!"

The kylin ambled a few steps away and nodded to make the broad brimmed hat flap up and down.

"You are blighting my repute here, and what is a man without reputation? As a member of my household you too will be under burden of doubt."

Chance took another step away, lifting his feet like a parade horse. His fame, he seemed to say, did not rest on so shaky a basis.

"All right, fair exchange. Here's one fermented rice cake i saved from the banquet in my room. You give me back my hat, and it's yours."

One ear went forward and one back.

"Two. Two rice cakes, and another grooming session this afternoon."

Chance dropped the hat on one hand and snatched the rice cake from the other. Immediately his horn tapped Esara's chest.

"All right, all right. You know I'm good for it . . . here. Try to make this one last a little longer."

Camp set-up had ground to a halt. Biri laughed, Jeidi and Buck both grinned, and he thought he saw an edge of contempt even in the soberer faces. Chance trotted away heedlessly, but as Esara crossed to the wagon he found his walk more stiff-legged than casual.

He needed sleep passionately, but he needed to satisfy his curiousity about the wagon contents even more. Assuming the Judge didn't argue his right to these unregarded trifles, he was assured a due profit for his time and effort in this wilderness. The question was, how great a profit?

Local honey, spruce and pinon for incense, even a modicum of the region's tradtional weaving; that would be an adequate reward. Turquoise and silver would make it welcome. Yet from the brief glimpses he'd seen, the treasure might verge upon the princely.

As he began to unweave Natan's stabilizing web, Esara forgot to consider his repute at all. The voices outside the wagon faded from his awareness. This might very well be a win to impress even his mother.