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ver。
The lean； elegant constable； Count Gonzalez de Rada； hovered unsettlingly close to the boys all the way south。 Ibero knew that Ser Rodrigo and this man had no love for each other； but he also remembered that de Rada had sworn to guard Belmonte's family when Rodrigo had been exiled。 Ibero hoped…and prayed； each morning and when the sun went down…that the sardonic constable's proximity was a manifestation of that vow and nothing else。
South of the two small tagra forts the king's vanguard began to open a distance from the rest of the army； with outriders galloping back and forth to keep munications flowing。
This was how Ibero learned that Miranda Belmonte d'Alveda had also bee a part of their army； joining the entourage of Queen Ines； who had chosen to e with her husband into the lands of the infidels。 When he told the boys they seemed unsurprised。 Ibero was disconcerted by that until he remembered the obvious。
Diego's gift was difficult to deal with at times。 He would have known before the messengers came； Ibero realized。 A little reluctantly； he admonished Diego。
〃You ought to be telling the rest of us if you 。。。 see anything。 It might be important。 That is why we are here； after all。〃
Diego's expression had been ical。 〃My mother？〃 he asked。 〃Ibero； my mother's arrival is important to the war？〃
Put that way； he did have a point。 Fernan； predictably； had a different perspective entirely。
〃Isn't this wonderful；〃 he had exclaimed indignantly。 〃Our first campaign and everyone from home es trotting along。 Who else should we expect？ The cook； our nurses from childhood？ This is ridiculous！ Are you here to make sure we keep warm at night？〃
Diego had laughed。 Ibero was too uneasy about the tidings of Miranda to be amused or chastising。 Fernan's words were disrespectful； but Ibero could understand how a young man on his first campaign might feel 。。。 crowded by his tutor's arrival； and now his mother's。
Nothing for it。 If the boys felt unhappy or the soldiers teased them they would have to deal with that themselves。 The truth was； they were too young to be here； and would not have e had Diego not been what he was。 And had not Ibero sent a certain letter to Esteren。
He sent another letter…a formal message to Miranda by one of the outriders。 He reported his own presence and the good health and respectful treatment of the two boys。 No word came back。
They did hear； indirectly； that the queen was entirely recovered from her unfortunate accident and that she had great faith in her new physician； a doctor from one of the tagra forts。
The story was that he had saved Queen Ines's life at the very brink of death。 Diego； in particular； was fascinated by the tale and ferreted out all the details he could from those who had been at that meeting of the three kings。 Fernan was more interested in uping events。 He managed to attach himself to the king's entourage； staying close to Count Gonzalez； in fact。 It was Fernan who explained to the other two why they were leaving the Asharite farms and hamlets untouched as they rode。
They had passed a number of them since leaving the tagra lands。 The villagers and farmers had fled into the hills with most of their belongings； but it had always been customary； in the wars of Ashar and Jad； to fire the houses and fields。
Things were different this time。
Despite a visible disagreement emanating from Geraud de Chervalles； King Ramiro was insistent on the point。 This was not a raid； Fernan reported the king as saying。 They were ing south to take Fezana and to stay。 And if they did that； they would need Asharites to resettle these villages and farmhouses； to pay taxes and till the fields。 Time and steady governance would bring Jad back into Al…Rassan； the king had declared； not burnings and destruction。 Ibero wasn't entirely sure how that meshed with holy doctrine； but he kept silent in the presence of his betters。
Fernan would spend the time after twilight prayers； before dark and bed； drawing maps for his brother and the cleric； explaining what might happen when they reached Fezana； and after。 Ibero noted； a little wryly； that he was entirely conversant now with the location…and the proper spelling…of all the major cities and rivers in Al…Rassan。
Four more days passed。 The spring weather remained mild； they made steady progress； drumming hooves and the dust of an army moving over the grasslands of Al…Rassan。
Then Diego announced； shortly before they broke camp one morning； that he had seen his father riding west。
The king and the constable and the tall cleric from Ferrieres had asked all sorts of questions he couldn't answer。
Once； such questions had made Diego feel inadequate； as if he was letting the questioners down by not being able to reply。 He didn't like disappointing people。 Later； though； the queries…even from his parents…had begun to irritate him； betraying； as they did； such a failure to understand the limits of his capability。 Diego had made himself practice being patient at such times。 The fact was； people didn't understand his limits； they couldn't possibly； because they didn't understand how he did what he did。
Not that Diego really understood his own gift； where it came from； why he had it； what it meant。 He knew some things； of course。 He knew that what he could do marked him as different from others。 He knew…from his mother long ago…that there was some undefined danger associated with being different in this way； and that he was not to tell others about what he could do。
All that； of course； had changed now。 Horsemen had e from the king of Valledo and taken him to war。 Fernan； naturally； had e too。 Fernan was the one who really wanted to go to war； but when they had reached the encampment by Carcasia's walls it had bee clear…during a first intimidating meeting with the king himself and the cleric from over the mountains…that Diego was the one they wanted。 He'd had to explain； shyly； what it was he could do。
Not so much； really。 He could see their disappointment。 At times over the years； he had wondered about all the secrecy and anxiety。 It wasn't a plicated gift： he could sometimes tell where his family was； even when they were far away。 His father； his mother； his brother； though Fernan was never far from him； and his mother very seldom was。
Also； he could sometimes sense danger ing for any of the three of them。 As to that； it had almost always been his father。 His father's life involved quite a lot of danger。
Fernan wanted to be exactly like their father。 He dreamed of it； practiced for it； had rushed through his childhood hungry for a man's weapons； and war。
Fernan was stronger and quicker； though they had been born identical。 There were times when Diego thought their father preferred Fernan； but there were other times when he thought otherwise。 He loved his father without reservation。 Other people found Rodrigo intimidating； he knew。 Diego thought that was funny。 Fernan didn't； Fernan considered it useful。 They differed in such small things。
It didn't much matter； really。 Nothing was ever going to separate the sons of Rodrigo Belmonte； they had realized that； definitively； when they were very young。
Fernan was enjoying almost everything about the campaign they had joined。 Diego thought it was an interesting place to be； certainly better than another summer on the ranch； but he had a recurrence of his old feelings of anxiety when it appeared that he was disappointing those who had brought him here to help。 At that first meeting he had answered the sharp questions from the High Cleric as best he could； and a few from the constable and the king； too。 He liked the king most； though he supposed it wasn't really his place to like the king or not。
In any case； he couldn't be much help to them and he did his best to make that clear。 Some days ago he had sensed his mother's arrival among the main body of the army； half a day behind them。 He had told Fernan； of course。 He'd considered telling the king and the cleric from Ferrieres just to have something to offer them； but thinking about his mother led him to keep quiet。 Her movements； surely； weren't a p