Disclaimer: No.

A/N: I like this chapter! I think it's the only completely happy chapter in this whole story so far, so enjoy it! Yay! Also, a cameo appearance by a much credited Lady Knight in this chap. She, however, won't become a true character until chapter nine. I think. ^_^;

Chapter 7 - Strangers in Port Caynn

It was early morning, and dew settled on the grasses like the chill winds that seemed to blanket the whole area. It was weather that, apparently, typical people didn't like to travel in. Or, as Quinn suggested, maybe it was too early for people to be awake.

"How can it be too early?" Devon asked irritably, "It's almost daylight, the sun's already almost over the hills yonder and you say it's too early?"

"Not everyone has to fight gods with swords and dances at the break of day, milady." Quinn teased gently. Devon snorted as they rode on. They both sat bareback, as the blankets had been wet and ruined by the dew and the horses rolling in it, the saddles were muddy and would be hell to fix, and the horses' backs were sore. It was their plan that with the limited resources of money they had from the gods (though limited is not what it really was) they would buy new tack and several new pairs of clothes, as Quinn now had to be in disguise at all times, and he filled up his clothes more with all the extra baggage, like skin, and muscles. Both still wore their cloaks, hoods pulled up, so no one would see them and strike up a conversation.

It was a while longer before Devon spotted a girl at the side of the road. She was young, maybe twelve, and was selling flowers for a bronze a piece. Devon halted Psyche, and Quinn, being the intelligent skeleton he was, followed suit, standing a little to the side and a little behind his lady as was respectful. At her bidding however, he rode up so he was closer and a little in front, to look more like an imposing man.

Devon leaned over and whispered to him, "We're equals. Act as such." He nodded and turned his gaze to the girl, though she couldn't see his face in the shadows of the hood. His hands, still skeletal, were gloved for disguise purposes.

"A flower for the lady, milord?" The young girl asked. Devon had thought that she looked enough like a man in the cloak, but she saw a few traitorous locks of bronze hair falling from underneath her hood. Quinn looked a question in Devon's direction, and spoke at her nod.

"Much apologies, lass, but not today. Where's the nearest town?" The girl looked a little miffed at the fact that the two travelers would not buy a flower, but answered Quinn's question anyway.

"A few miles south is Port Caynn milord." She said respectfully. "Are you here to see the Royal family?"

Devon turned to look at Quinn and mouthed, 'Royal family?' Quinn touched a finger to his teeth, the skeleton way of silencing someone, and turned to the girl.

"Indeed, lassie. Where will they be?" If the little girl was puzzled by the uncertainty of Quinn's lady companion, she didn't mention it and she didn't let it show.

"At the docks near noon, and then they be staying at my family's inn, the Waverider." Quinn mouthed 'lodging' back at Devon, and she nodded in agreement.

"Very well then, thank you for your help." Devon said. She urged Psyche forward with a word, and called behind her as they walked off, "Gods all bless." The little girl smiled and waved until they had disappeared around a turn in the road.

When the girl was out of sight, Devon let out the breath she knew she'd been holding and Quinn laughed heartily.

"That wasn't so bad after all, milady." He said as she took deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"Easy for you to say. I'm in permanent disguise, remember? I'm Devon of Nocturne, Nocturne is east, and blah, blah, blah." Quinn shook his head and laughed softly.

"Funny Devon. Now, let's get to Port Caynn and buy what we need. Then we'll see where we go from there."

*~*~*~*~*

Port Caynn was impressively busy, as it was a seaside city. Goods and people seemed to run willy-nilly around the streets, into shops, and out of them only to continue their personal marathon into another store. Several times Quinn's gray, Wesley, spooked and sent people running and screaming even wilder than they did normally. Devon's head throbbed with the noise, and found herself wishing she was back in the Goddess' rooms, where it was always silent save for the streams that ran through the floor. Quinn caught her distress and smiled sympathetically.

At that moment, there was a loud wail of trumpets, seeming to ring in Devon's head like someone had been screaming into her ear. The crowd parted, and Devon and Quinn went off to the side as well. In a richly decorated carriage sat two beautiful women, and on either side a rider, men, waving and smiling as well.

A woman who stood beside Psyche, and who only came up to the middle of his shoulder, Devon noticed, curtsied deeply and whispered in reverence,

"Queen Thayet, King Jonathon."

'Well that was handy.' Devon thought wryly, 'Now there's no need to act the fool and ask.' Interrupting her thoughts, much to her discontent, the square filled with cheers as tired knights rode by, limp hands waving. One, wearing a crest with a blue field and an owl charge, pulled of his helmet, and Devon raised an eyebrow. He was really a she. A woman, a lady knight, with light brown hair that fell to her shoulders, dreamer's hazel eyes, a determined face, and a rather tall physique. She and her large mount, a red roan gelding, seemed to suit each other. Behind her, riding on a bay palfrey, was a young stable boy.

The crowds were chanting the words 'Mindelan' and 'Lady Knight'. Devon felt a nudge against her side, and looked into Quinn's empty hood.

"Who is she?" He asked quietly, so only Devon's ears could hear.

"Other than the obvious?" Devon asked with a dry smile.

"Yes milady." Quinn said, looking affronted. Devon poked him in the shoulder playfully, and he responded with a shove, nearly knocking Devon off her horse. No one noticed Devon's shriek of laughter in the raucous of the blaring horns and cheering people. The two friends attacked each other with biting pinches and unforgiving fingers.

While their riders were playing, Psyche looked at the horses underneath the knights' seats. He rumbled lowly, escalating to a high-pitched bugle. No one noticed particularly, except the horses. The read roan gelding tilted his head, ears flicked in Psyche's direction. He disappeared too quickly for Psyche see what he did after that.

"Milady that wasn't fair!" Quinn protested weakly as he tried to struggle from Devon's hard pinch on his bicep. Feigning another struggle, he shoved her hard.

It was his own undoing of course.

Though he would disagree.

Devon's thumb and forefinger were still clamped on his arm when he shoved her. She lurched back and he felt a sudden pain. With a yelp, he was dragged form the saddle, right on top of Devon. She let out a grunt, a very unladylike one, when his weight descended on her side.

"Oh my gods Quinn!" She said in a slightly squished tone. "What do you eat!?" He let out a little whine of protest.

"I'm sorry milady," he said it as if it was a vile thing, "But muscles and skin weigh a good deal more than you'd realize!" His voice carried a sound of wounded pride.

"Yes, I do realize, Quinn, now, before I am squished to the center of the earth, please, remove yourself." Devon grunted. Quinn stood, and sat himself at her side as she raised herself on one arm, wincing.

"Next time we come to Tortall, we are so not bringing those potions." She said in a strained voice.

"I agree!" Quinn exclaimed haughtily. They looked at each other, and their silence was interrupted by Quinn's snort. Devon covered her mouth with her hand, desperately trying to stay her giggles. They sat, shaking in silent laughter, tears rolling off their cheeks into each other's cloaks, as the world passed them by, proceeding with its never-ending circle.

Thanks to all my reviewers who made this story possible! I'll mention you when I win an Oscar for best screenplay! ~_^

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