A lot of their journey to the Hold had been through fields or meadows when they were not in some of the small towns like Sweetsprings which Talia barely remembered from her journey to Haven. It was outside of Sweetsprings, almost within half a day's journey of Sensholding that they received a shock. By now they were fully in persona most of the time, with Myste and Alberich pretending to be a Holderkin horse merchant and his Firstwife while Talia and Skif pretended to be two of their older children who were coming to help on the journey. They also had Talia's memories firmly embedded in their memories. That was thanks to Rolan who had been able to pull out the needed memories from Talia's mind and magnify the memory altering part of her MindHealing gift until Alberich, Skif, and Myste knew every detail of the Holderkin culture and a thorough knowledge of the beliefs and practices that they would need to use as part of their disguise. Honestly, Alberich had to admit a certain relief that Rolan had altered the memories and applied them with the necessary respect for the people and not the individuals because after feeling himself screaming in pain from having a poker pressed into his hand, he was ready to hunt down some of Talia's kin and rip into them like badly trained recruits for that incident alone. Still, there was a comfortableness to the memories which did remind him of Karse and the people which allowed him to meld some of his own memories into the persona easily enough. Or they did until one of the packhorses through a shoe. There was little choice but for Alberich and Skif to head off on the remaining two packhorses in search of a blacksmith while Talia and Myste set up a makeshift camp. At least it would not mean traveling all the way to Sensholding to do so since there was a open market and horse fair set up and visible from here only about a league and a half away. They were halfway through finishing laundry when a small cart stopped and the man who was driving stopped whistling and instead tied the horse and walked over to the camp. Myste and Talia already had weapons in their hands by the time they saw that the man's hands were empty and open in the traditional sign of welcome in approaching an unknown camp.

"Heyla, Lady Heralds! My wife expects me to be home for supper, so I ask that you not injure me too badly. Is there any help that I can give to you ladies?"

"How did you know that we were Heralds?" Myste asked suspiciously.

"Four Companions tied to a tree. Since the others of your a group are apparently on an errand, is there anything I might do to help you? We don't see Heralds a lot out this way."

Talia smiled wryly and Myste filled in the Queen's Own unspoken barb in her head, the one which would be going through Myste's own mind under similar circumstances.

No, they wouldn't see us around here, now would they?

Although given the normal Holderkin attitude towards Heralds, that might be why. The last couple who had been on circuit out here were still in the Healer's Collegium. Still, the young man seemed to want to help, and since Myste didn't need to Truth Spell to see if he was sincere, they were most likely safe.

"I take it this is not a pleasure jaunt to bring four Heralds out so far and not in Whites. Helping with the fires are you? I wish you luck. The Ho - my people are a hard one to figure with that." the young man asked as he finished tying a line for them to dry the clothes on.

"Were you always part of the Hold?" Talia asked, looking as innocent as a little sparrow. She had clearly picked up on his slip of almost saying "The Holderkin" instead of my people.

He blushed and Myste and Talia both struggled to figure out just what it was to make this young man seem so familiar. He was not much older than Skif, and handsome enough with his dark, slightly rough features. His dark hair was clubbed back out of his way and his sharp eyes holding theirs steady and unflinchingly even as he blushed.

"No, lady. I'm from across the border. One of the orphans from the Tedrel Wars. Before actually, but I got caught up with the others. Rescued I was, by a Herald. He could have been as plain as clay, but to my mind, I thought he was an angel. Then, on the way to Haven, a Holderkin man with a family of his own took a notion to me. Said like his sons I was, and I went with him. He was gruff, and they made no little protest about me being there, but they settled when he told them I was his son to a women who had been killed in the battle. Not that they believed it, but it ended the gossip. But I'm Holderkin enough now having lived here most of my life, even if I have to defend it now and then, that and the fact a bit fonder of Heralds I am than most." There was a soft, almost ironic tone in his voice that caught Talia's attention, but she believed every word this man said, and from the look on Myste's face, said she saw reason to believe him too.

"My thanks. I take it you'll be headed to the Horse Fair then?" Myste croaked, hoping that Alberich would not cross paths with this young man who wanted to help so much.

"Yes. If you stop by in the next day or so, and ask for me at the barrelmaker's stand, I'll help you. Name's Dielth." he said extending his hand.

Shy and hesitantly, Myste extended her hand and introduced herself and Talia, hoping that the Queen's Own would just add up her nervousness as having their plans changed.

"Ah. Well, I'd best be on my way before my pretty wife flies in a fury at me. So I'll see the two merchants camped outside on the way to the fair in a day or two?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in question.

"Most likely." Myste admitted. Right now they could need any help they could get, and neither her or Talia could lie well enough to pass up this chance. Especially with someone who could get them into the Hold and give them shelter and help with their story.

But as she listened to the whistling and clatter of the cart rolling away half a quartermark later, she wished that their help had been anyone else. By all the Havens, what had she done to deserve this. Even if the features were not so similar.

A Karsite orphan from the Tedrel Wars. A little older than Skif, so from a couple of years before the war started. The dark hair, the sharp gray eyes. Softer, no scars, but if he keeps fighting to prove his place as Holderkin, that will change.

A groan gave voice to her mental thoughts, and Myste leaned forward, catching her head in her hands.

Lord and Lady of all that is light and good! Why, why did you have to send Alberich's son to help?