"Please tell me that you didn't bring your musical instrument," Devrim begged as he heard Junayd humming softly. This was their third day on the road. The man's humming had brought unfortunate memories to the Emperor's mind.

"Which one?" Junayd asked innocently.

"You have more than one?" Gandr furrowed his brow.

"I have a pipe, a hand harp, a lute, and a beautiful stringed instrument," the soldier announced proudly.

"I see," Gandr looked at him sidelong.

"But do not worry. I did not bring any of them," Junayd told them. The other two breathed a sigh of relief. From the pack on his horse, the burly man pulled out two small cymbals with leather straps to slip on his fingers. "I brought these instead. That way I can sing, play, and have one hand still on the reigns. Isn't it brilliant?"

"It is something alright." Devrim tried to smile but it came off as a grimace.

Without permission the broad-shouldered soldier broke out in song. The tune and percussion filled the air as they rode along.

"I had a horse so ugly

Ugly as could be

No one would look me in the eye

When I were riding she

And she were oh so stubborn

She'd never go my way

From back to front and left to right

She'd fight me all the day

One day I saw a pretty lass

She smiled from ear to ear

"Do you realize, good sir," she said

"You're facing that mare's rear?"

"Of course," says I so natural

"This pose is not a whim

For she knows where we're going

And I know where we've been!"

Junayd paused waiting for applause.

"…. Only you could write a song about an idiot riding backwards on a horse." Devrim rolled his eyes.

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"I rather liked it!" Gandr chuckled. Gnomes did not have musical compositions. The most they did was rythmic chants while they dug.

"Do not encourage him," the Emperor warned. "If he thinks he has a fan, he will never let up this trip."

Junayd turned up his nose dramatically. "I do not do it for the fame. I do it for the art."

"Yet somehow you have failed on both counts," Devrim jibbed. In a kinder tone he added, "But it does help to pass the time, and for that I thank you." The grey-eyed man was determined to be more gracious after his ugly behavior.

"We seem to be making good time," Gandr observed, "but we could go much faster if you let me use my ground magic or wind magic."

"When we get a little further from civilization, I will consider it, but for now we are not going to use magic. Anyway, I do not want to drain you of your strength." Devrim responded.

An hour or two passed with no excitement when Gandr called a halt. His face, which had been neutral, changed to a scowl as he concentrated. Jumping from his horse, he placed both hands on the ground and closed his eyes. He grunted in confusion.

"What is it?" Devrim asked when he could stand it no longer.

"The nearest town is not in earshot, yet I can hear voices. And through the ground, I can feel a large group of people just west of our current location." Gandr told them.

"Maybe it is a festival," Junayd suggested.

Gandr shrugged. It was possible. The gnome had no idea how people had so many celebrations, but one always seemed to be happening. "Maybe, but it is a very quiet festival. Aren't they usually loud?"

Devrim came to a snap decision, "We will check it out." They veered off course toward the group, dismounting before they got too close. Creeping up in the tall grass, the trio found a clearing close to a stream. Tents dotted the landscape while many people reclined, chatting idly.

"Gypsies? Traveling troup?" Junayd whispered trying to solve the mystery.

"There are few women and no children. Plus they are all wearing the same uniform. This is some sort of militia," Devrim observed.

"Aren't these the private soldiers of Duchess Ravenna? Wasn't she at the twin's party?" Gandr noted the distinct green and gray of their uniform and the seal of a ringed scepter.

"Maybe they are escorting her home." Junayd guessed. They looked at the fifty or so soldiers, none of whom seemed particularly worried or alert.

"I doubt she is with them. Duchess Ravenna is a tough mistress, and I doubt they are so at ease when she is with them." Devrim could not imagine a world where the duchess would find these men's behavior acceptable. Two men were whispering quietly off to one side. The conversation seemed heated. "Gandr?" Devrim whispered.

The halfling nodded. He had noticed it too and was already listening.

"When do you think the Duchess will meet us? It feels strange hiding out in the forest." The first man said.

The second looked around hastily before replying. "Rumor is she is still waiting to meet with… you know. I cannot believe she would betray the Empress like this."

"If she does, I am not sure I can stomach it. My brother is in the imperial army in Valiant. I do not want to fight him just to overthrow Her Majesty." The first man looked unsure.

The second scowled at his friend's hesitation. "You will do as you are told! Anyway, I do not think we are heading to Valiant. I heard the captain mention the garrison to the southwest."

"That would be a tough nut to crack. I heard…"

Their conversation was interrupted as someone more senior walked up to them. "You two are next up on patrol. Better get moving." After some grumbling, the men ambled off in the opposite direction to complete their duty. The halfling and two men moved off to a safe distance so that Gandr could relay the information to them. The men listened carefully to his report.

"The Duchess has never been fond of my wife, but I did not think her capable of open defiance. We have to stop these men and warn Aurora. Surely these fifty men were not planning to attack the garrison alone." Devrim was already running through his options. He pulled out the message ball. "I hate to use this so soon in our journey, but I see no other option unless I send one of you back."

"That has not worked out well for us in the past, Your Majesty," Junayd reminded him. The person sent would likely put the group as well as themselves in extra danger.

"Yes. I know. I will send the ball." Devrim spoke the message into the ball and then gave the command to return to the palace. Floating into the air, its tiny wings sprouted and directed it southward. They watched in silence until the orb was out of sight.

"Now what do we do about this problem?" Gandr asked. "We cannot just ignore it, and we cannot round them up with just the three of us."

At once, Junayd and Devrim happened upon the same idea. They both looked at the halfling and smiled. "I have an idea," Devrim muttered.

Junayd nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I mean, what good is having a shape-shifter with us if we cannot use him?"

Gandr took a step backwards. "I am not going to like this, am I?"

Devrim gave a lopsided smile. "Of course not. I am pretty sure you are going to hate it."