“Who is she?” the captain demanded of his soldiers.

They all started talking at once, but no one seemed to know.

The woman’s voice rose above the fray. “If someone asked me directly, I’d be more than happy to introduce myself.”

“Please do so,” Alton said.

She leveled her gaze at him and Alton discerned a smile. “You would be Lord Alton D’Yer,” she said.

“You know me then.”

She nodded. “I’ve heard much about you.”

Now Alton frowned. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage then. I do not know you.”

“No? I am a minstrel of Selium.” She bowed with hand to temple.

Hand to temple? A minstrel who was high born?

“My name,” she said, “is Estral Andovian, daughter of Aaron Fiori, the Golden Guardian.” She held her hand out so they could see her ring with the sigil of the gold harp on it.

Estral Andovian—Karigan’s best friend. As the Golden Guardian’s daughter, she was indeed high born. And as Karigan’s best friend, he did not doubt she had heard a bit about him, leading him to wonder just what she’d been told. Thinking of Karigan made him frown once more. No letter from her had arrived with the packet Daro carried from Sacor City. There were many reasons one might not have come. She could be out on a message errand, or hadn’t had time to write, or, he’d just been too pushy, scared her off.

“My lady,” Captain Wallace said, “you must know the wall is off limits to civilians. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m aware of the dangers,” Estral Andovian replied. “I also know civilians are discouraged.”

“Then what brings you, my lady?” Alton asked.

She gazed at him and now he saw in the firelight her eyes were a translucent green, like the hue of the sea with the moon behind the waves.

“I came as a minstrel,” Estral said. “I am a journeyman, and at this stage of training, if I’m to ascend to master, I must travel, offering my services of song wherever I go.”

“This is a strange destination for you to choose,” Captain Wallace said.

“I do not think so. I imagine those here would appreciate a little entertainment to break up the monotony, or to take their minds off other concerns.”

“True enough,” Captain Wallace replied. “But the risk to yourself—”

“There are other reasons I came,” Estral said. “I come as a representative of the Golden Guardian, as a witness if you will. This,” and she gestured in the direction of the wall, “is where history is happening. It needs to be recorded and remembered and that is also the duty of the Golden Guardian and his minstrels.”

“History, my lady?” Alton’s voice was sharp. “The dangers here are very real, not a footnote in some dry old tome. People have died here. Tonight. I will show you this ‘history.’ ”

He took her by the elbow and led her toward the wall where the soldiers were trying to hitch the rat creature to a horse, but the horse was having none of it, bucking and whinnying.

“The horse has good sense not to go near that carcass,” Alton said.

Estral stumbled back from his grip with a little cry when she saw the creature.

“This,” Alton said, “came out of Blackveil. It killed one man and savaged another. This is why I am going to insist you leave us and take your journeyman training elsewhere. This is no place for a ... a musician, whether she is the daughter of the Golden Guardian or not.”

“I ... I am sorry about your men,” Estral said.

She didn’t run away, and after the initial shock, collected herself better than some of the soldiers had. Weren’t most females terrified of rats? This wasn’t even a normal-sized one. Outside the Green Riders, his experience with women led him to believe they were all a bit squealy. Estral actually gazed hard at the beast as if committing its appearance to memory.

“You’re not going to cast her out tonight, surely,” said Dale, who had tagged along.

Captain Wallace and his soldiers had also followed. “It is the dark of night. No moon.”

“What?” Alton said. “I—”

“She can stay in my tent,” Dale said. “There must be another cot floating around the encampment somewhere.”

“But—”

“There is risk here,” Dale said, “but it isn’t very hospitable or safe to send her out into the woods at night either.”

Alton looked at Captain Wallace for some sort of support.

“I’m in agreement with Rider Littlepage,” the captain said. “I’m sure tomorrow morning will be soon enough for Lady Estral to depart.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Alton combed his fingers through his hair. What kind of oaf must she think him for insisting she leave right now? He espied a glimmer in those sea green eyes and glanced away. “Tomorrow morning will be soon enough.”

“Very well,” Estral said. “My thanks to you, Rider Littlepage.”

“Call me Dale.”

“Dale it is. And none of this ‘my lady’ stuff from anyone, please.”

Dale and Estral strode off, arms linked and chatting like old school friends.

“I will play tonight,” he heard Estral say.

“Entertainment will help take our minds off tonight’s troubles,” Captain Wallace told Alton.