By the time Caldrin’s eastern roofs disappeared, the smaller pack animal had decided it disliked Elian.
It accepted his hand on the halter. It accepted the sound of his voice. It objected only when he attempted to explain why the path they were taking was entirely reasonable.
“Walk,” Yorra told him.
“I am walking.”
“Without the explanation.”
Elian closed his mouth. The animal came forward.
Kesh’s expression remained admirably neutral until Iven looked at her. Then both of them had to look away.
They had left on the morning of day seven hundred and thirty-five, six people with three pack animals and the loads they had actually weighed. Yorra and Bastel, the hired carriers, set a pace that could be kept beyond the first bright hour. Sera walked with her own small bag. Elian had the repaired case handle in his hand until Bastel made him put the case back where its weight belonged.
