Accompanying her return to the earth below was her handservant Troia and Captain Alexios. Their retinue, resting in a quaint village, was taken by surprise at her early return. Still, none of them gainsaid her when she informed them they would be returning to Kolchis without her brother, not with the sword by her side.
“By your leave, my lady, I shall return to Lord Aspyr,” Captain Alexios said as he finished overseeing preparations for her departure north.
“A moment of your time, Captain,” Mydea said, before turning to her handservant. For a strawborn maid, Troia was passable with the High Speech so as to not embarrass, but Mydea opted to converse in the Old Tongue for clarity’s sake. “I recall you saying you had family in Aelisium. Are they still there by any chance?”
“Just an older brother now, my lady,” Troia said. “He’s apprenticing under an artificer.”
“Would you like to pay him a visit then?” Mydea asked. “My early return has robbed you of the chance, and I would correct that. We might arrange for you to serve my brother in the meantime if you should like.”
Troia’s blue eyes widened, and immediately, she shook her head. “That won’t be necessary, my lady. If I left, who would help you dress?”
Strictly speaking, she could spell the wind to help her if need be, but it was not appropriate for a person of her station to use magic on that sort of triviality. “Don’t worry about your duties. We’ve other maidservants back home who can take those on, if for a short while. It will be another year before Aelisium’s circuit brings it back to the Deeplands, and who can say if it will ever return this far north? This may be the last chance you get to see your brother for many years. Spend a moment to think through this at least.”
She afforded herself half a moment. “Thank you for your consideration, Lady Mydea, but my place is by your side,” Troia said, a little firmer now. “How could I think to leave your appearance to the other girls when you’ll be dealing with more stoneborn soon?”
There was sense to what Troia said, and she was grateful her maid would be with her for the coming days. Kolchis could hardly afford mistakes in how she presented herself whilst she acted in her brother’s stead.
Mydea nodded. “I wish you safe travels and a swift sword, Captain Alexios. Guard my brother well.”
“With my life, Lady Mydea,” Alexios said, keeping his back ramrod straight and bowing from the waist.
She whispered a prayer to the gods as he left, and allowed herself to watch the clouds if only for a little while. Then she forced herself to turn away from the City on High. There were a few hours left before nightfall and many leagues to traverse.
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Snowscorn had borne part of the ride south and the ascent to Aelisium admirably, but even a pegasi of her stock and stature had limits … especially in her condition. To push her too far might cause grievous injury to her and her babe, or worse, ground the pegasus permanently. Instead, she switched to a fresh hobbeye mare, a quick-footed breed popular among the knights and mages-at-arms of the northern march.
Their party followed the eastern branch of the Aigean Way which clung to the black, sandy shores before veering sharply north and inland. The paved road allowed them to make good time such that by sunset, they had reached a village within their lands, if still near the border.
She had never gone on campaign as her grandfather often did, but Mydea suspected that if he were still alive, the seasoned veteran would have found their pace exacting. After that, she rested easier and allowed the pace to slow. The right to shelter and safe passage applied to her and all in her retinue, not just because she was kin to a lord, but also because she was a graduate of the athenaeum. Yet, devious minds knew of ways to subvert the law without breaking it.
Even evil men would hesitate before harming a noble in their own domain however.
On the afternoon of the sixth day, they reached the seat of her ancestors, nestled atop a dominant hill overlooking the confluence of two swift rivers before they headed out to sea. Aigis, named for the mountains that loomed in the distance, was the last line of defense between the fertile fields to the south, and any Tuskar warband coming through the Great Gap of Perasma. Gods willing, it would not fail in her lifetime.
Across the stone bridge that forded the Weeping River, her father waited. Despite the many years of instruction their master-at-arms had given him, he remained graceless on a horse. Aetos of House Kolchis had russet-colored skin, common as the reddish-brown potato the soilborn grew. He had no noble lineage on either side, no great wealth to bequeath, and his skill at arms was unrefined and clumsy, though fearsome.
By all accounts, Aetos was fortunate to marry a wife of noble pedigree.
Mydea spared him the trouble by crossing with haste, leaning to embrace him warmly when she neared.
“What of Aspyr?” he asked, tone filled with worry as he saw the sword by her hip.
“He is in good health. Brother remains in the Capital until his audience is granted,” Mydea said. “I’m to be his lady advocate until he returns.”
Father’s dark, deep-set eyes brightened. “Good, good. Come, let’s get you settled and warmed up. I’ll tell Geiras to make your favorite. How was Aelisium? Was it everything you thought it would be?”
“I do not know if there exist enough words to describe it,” Mydea admitted as their horses began climbing. Thick curtain walls raised halfway up the hill came into view, curving with the ground it rested on. “It is everything the books say and more!”
“Ha! Well, we shall have time enough to discuss it over dinner,” Father said. “Ephyra wished to speak with you upon your return.”
Mydea’s brows furrowed. “Grandmother? Has her health improved?”
“She hasn’t declined,” Father said.
She hastened their pace, and not long after they passed beneath the castle’s murder holes and crenellations. “Bring my things to my room,” Mydea said to Troia as she made her way into the central keep. Grandmother’s rooms were kept on the ground floor on account of her age, and soon she found herself in front of a familiar maple door. Knocking thrice, she entered.