So, the next day Dana started spending large amounts of time with Richard as they tried to discover proof that she was who she claimed to be, and that the Duchy of Lossington was hers. This job he did not seem to want to delegate to his subordinates. Marchan felt a little left out in the evnings as they continued to discuss what they had found during the day. He and the Duke returned to Kardin Square and purchased Marchan's travel clothes. He was quite pleased with his new clothes and boots. Marchan tried to find Mama Rita and Peter again, but all his inquiries were rebuffed, even from Mardic and Cartalla who had admitted knowing them before.

The Duke sighed. He took Marchan aside, 'It may be they refuse because I am with you. For reasons I cannot enumerate some people snub nobility merely for the sake of it. They somehow think it makes them more important. You will not get any information today. If you came back without me on another day, you might get a different response.'

'That's a very strange way to be,' said Marchan.

'Strange or not, it's what happens sometimes. Anyway, we'll return now.'

They returned to the carriage and returned to the Duke's abode.

Within a few days, Marchan was bored again. He caught his Mother alone that night.

'I'm going to start looking for my own kind again, Mother,' he said. Trevor looked oh so hard and found what he could. It's up to me to take that information and look for my own kind. I don't belong here. The tables are too high, the door knobs, everything.'

'Yes,' said Dana thoughtfully, 'that might be best for you. I'll miss you terribly.'

'And I already miss you, Mother,' he said.

The next night they had a little going away party. Trevor had come back from his leave of absence, looking the worse for the time, and joined them at the Duke's abode.

During the evening, Trevor suddenly stood up in front of Richard and asked a boon.

'What is it?' asked Richard.

'Promise you'll grant it first.'

'But it may not be in my power to grant.'

'This one is,' said Trevor. 'If it is not, I will take it upon myself.'

'Very well, what is it?'

'Send me with Marchan. I know the roads from here to the eastern limits of the kingdom. I can be a guide to him that far. For all your talk of having to complete our work before the King returns, we are far ahead of our schedule. You can spare me for three months and we would not be behind.'

'That is asking much. I do have power to grant you that. But first you must do something for me.'

'What is it? You've only to name it.'

'In your father's study is a scroll, sealed with the signant ring of his father. Do not ask how I know this. It is my business to know.'

'What of it?' asked Trevor trembling.

'I want you to make a copy of that scroll. You have worked in the Hall of Records long enough to know how to open a scroll and roll it without breaking the seal. Bring the copy of the scroll to me and I will grant your boon. I will give you orders to guide Marchan to the eastern limits of the kingdom. I can neither order you, nor give you permission to continue past that point.'

Trevor trembled for a bit then nodded his assent. 'I will have that scroll to you before the end of the first watch,' he said confidently. 'I will also bring myself some travel clothes.'

'Yes, do that,' said Marchan. 'I will be glad to have your company upon the road.'

Trevor stole out into the twilight. The first watch of the night was just beginning. The Duke looked mystified at his son.

Richard smiled at his Father. 'The contents of that scroll are the key to everything we need for Dana's case. Within a couple of weeks of receiving the contents of that scroll we will be ready to start her case. Without it, it could take months to find the information that we need.'

'But what is in it?' asked Martug.

'I believe a very direct statement from Dana's grandfather deliberately disinheriting her half-uncle from anything more than a single estate, and referencing the location of his will. Together with some notes describing his favourite granddaughter, Dana.'

'But why would he keep such a document?' Dana asked.

'To prove he's the son of his father. He seems to believe that the actual legal ramifications of the document are irrelevant, since Dana has been for the last fifteen years or so in no position to bring a legal case agatinst him. As long as he believes that we will be able to get ahold of that scroll during legal discovery.'

'You've thought this through haven't you?' said the Duke.

'Indeed!'

The Duke now turned to Marchan. 'To speed your journey, I am giving to you two horses. I will be very surprised if Trevor there does not know how to ride. You may have to be led, or ride with him and leave the second horse for a pack animal. These two horses are endurance horses. They can travel for many miles without much rest each day, but do not go too far with them! They are not particularily speedy animals, but I do not suppose you will need speed.'

Dana piped up, 'And I've got something for you that you haven't had for some time.' She pulled out a satchel and inside were pumpkin cakes. Marchan's favourite food! He almost reached for them then noticed his Mother's look. 'These are for your journey,' she said. 'Don't make the mistake of eating them now. And do share them with your companion.'

Samuel looked over at Marchan and said, 'I'll pack some saddle bags for you. No worries, there'll be some stuff in there from me.'

'I've got little thing you might like,' said Martug and passed over to Marchan a short sword. 'Admittedly, Dwarves by all accounts carry axes, not swords, but this is the best I could do on short notice.'

'It'll be fine,' said Marchan. 'My Father taught me a bit of sword play a few years ago. Anyone I come up against will likely be surprised enough that I've got a sword not to notice I'm so clumsy with it.'

Magra looked embarrassed. 'I've nothing for you,' she said.

'Come,' said Marchan. 'I've only just met you the other day. You've no reason to be embarrassed. Here, give me a hug and we'll call it even.'

She hugged him tightly. He was surprised by how tight it was. 'I wish I could have gotten to know you better,' she said.

David spoke, 'I'll have something for you in the saddle bags too. You'll have reason to celebrate from time to time, me thinks. I'll make sure you have something to celebrate with.'

Richard came last, 'I've something you will hopefully never need,' and handed him a wrist-knife. 'Strap that on your wrist under you shirt. No one will notice it there, but if they try to ambush you, you can have it sticking out over your hand faster than you can say "Boo!"'.

Marchan thanked each of them in turn and promised to come back to visit when he could. In the room was almost everyone he had ever cared about. He did not want to leave them, but he knew life would be difficult with them as he reached adulthood.

The continued to talk for the rest of the watch. All sad that Marchan was leaving, but hopeful, just the same. Eventually, the Duke and most of his household went to bed, leaving Dana, Richard and Marchan sitting up waiting for Trevor's return. Marchan started napping as Dana and Richard talked in low tones by the fire. The scene reminded him of his early childhood, but he could not remember why.

Marchan woke with a start when Trevor returned. Richard and Dana rose to greet him. Trevor was triumphant.

'I've never done anything against my father before,' he said. 'I've always been too afraid of him. It doesn't matter anymore, though. I'm not going to see him for a long time.'

Richard sat down at the writing desk and wrote up an order for Trevor. 'Trevor, you are ordered to escort the Dwarf known as Marchan to the limits of the Kingdom. You are to see that he is well provided for and protected and aided in his journey as you escort him.'

'Thank you,' said Trevor. Dana led Marchan off to his bedroom as Richard led Trevor to where they would bunk.

'I'm so proud of you, Marchan,' Dana said. 'Remember I will always love you as my own dear son. I look forward to they day you can come and visit, and maybe show me my grandchildren.'

Marchan got embarrassed. He stammered a bit and then said, 'Now that we're together again, I'm not sure if I want to leave you again.'

'You'll see,' she said. 'You needn't worry about it. Once you get on the road again, you won't be missing me any more. But if it chances that you do miss me, look at this and remember.' With that she took off the necklace that she had worn since as long as Marchan could remember.

'It was a gift to me from my father,' she said. 'The only thing that I kept from my family when I was married. Do not lose it. Just remember I love you and you're never far from my heart.'

Marchan smiled and hugged her. She tucked him in and went to her own room.

Early in the morning David and Samuel led Marchan and Trevor to the stables. They saddled two horses and loaded another with baggage. After being sure that the horses were ready to go, they led them out into the courtyard where the rest of the house met them.

Magra and the Doctor said their goodbyes, Richard had a few words of instruction for Trevor while Dana hugged Marchan for the last time. Finally David helped Marchan up into the saddle, which, even with the stirrups tied as short as they could be, fit Marchan badly.

Trevor swung into the saddle and Samuel said to him, 'You mind those horses, young man. They're the Master's good horses and he'll be wanting an account if you mistreat them.'

'Never fear,' said Trevor. 'I love horses to bits. My father complains that I love them too much. He complained that I wouldn't learn to use them when I was learning to fight with them. '

'That'll be well then,' said the Duke. I hope you find what you are looking for, both of you.'

They turned the horses and slowly rode them out of the courtyard.

Past the various gates they went, through the orchard, the Merchant's Ring, the fields within the city and finally past the barracks. Marchan breathed deep when they finally reached the forest beyond. He could smell the earth again. The smell of animals and food and perfume and humans and plants. The inhabitants of the city had overshadowed the smell of the living rock and the earth.

Trevor started to lead the other two horses into a gallop. 'Let them stretch their legs,' he said. Marchan held on to the saddle horn as best he could, but he felt so much like a sack of apples tied to the horn.

After a little while, Trevor slowed and looked back to notice how Marchan was sitting. 'No, no,' he called and slowed his horse, but Marchan's horse also slowed to match it. Finally he let it stop and turned his horse so that he could talk to Marchan.

'Here,' he said, 'you must grip the body of the horse with your knees. And keep your back straight up, don't hunch over so.'

Marchan tried to do as he was told but felt sure he would fall off. He leaned forward again to grasp the saddle horn.

'No, no, oh, I never thought you might not have learned to ride a horse! I thought everyone did!'

'Listen,' he said. 'It's okay if you fall off. See the ground here is soft turf. Now, watch see how I sit in the saddle.'

Marchan finally sat up and looked around. It was an exhilerating feeling to be able to see so far. He noticed the pack horse starting to wander away.

'What about that?' he asked.

'Yes, it's fine,' said Trevor. 'I'll get it in a moment. Now that you're siting up, turn your legs a bit and try to dig your heels into the horse, without loosing your grip with your knees.'

Marchan did as he was told, but could not avoid loosing his grip with his knees. His horse, spooked by the sudden jab darted forward and Marchan spilled onto the turf, which he didn't think was that soft.

Trevor turned his horse again and quickly caught Marchan's, then gathered up the pack horse.

'I guess that's a good start,' he said when he returned. 'Here, I'll help you into the saddle again.'

He dismounted and lifted Marchan back up to the stirrup. Marchan pushed the nearer foot into it and swung around, to discover himself facing the back of the horse. Trevor laughed.

'I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you which foot to put into the stirrup. Here, dismount and I'll help you again.'

They tried again and then Trevor mounted again and got hold of the bridles of the other two horses and led them on again. This time, Marchan didn't quite feel like a sack of apples. He kept his chin up and started to feel like he had some idea of how to ride. He knew that he wasn't directing, but there couldn't be all that much to it.

At noon they dismounted and let the horses graze while they ate their lunch. The first saddlebag they opened contained enough food to last them several days. They would easily be able to hold off spending Marchan's money until for a number of days.

After lunch Trevor helped Marchan mount and showed him how to properly guide the horse with his heels. 'These horses are very well trained,' he said. 'Samuel was not exagerrating when he said these were the Duke's good horses. The captain never told me his father was such a horselover. Or that they had such wonderful horses. I begin to wonder what else I do not know about the captain.'

'So what are these for?' Marchan asked holding up the reins.

'They can be used to guide or slow her down, but she's so well trained that you should need them much, as long as you keep your head about you and do as I've instructed. I'm still going to tie her bridle to my horse until you get a little more used to guiding her though.'

'She?' Marchan said.

'Your horse,' said Trevor surprised. 'Didn't you know your horse is a mare?'

'Uh, no,' said Marchan.

'Well, she is,' said Trevor. 'I guess they thought you might want a gentler beast since you've not ridden before. She's quite a beaut too. We'll probably have to watch with the stallion that they gave me.'

'Watch?'

'So she don't get pregnant. When we're travelling is no time to deal with a pregnant horse. The pack horse is a mare as well. My poor stallion. He's so going to be in for it in the summer if we're still all together.'

Marchan kept quiet. It was all a little too much for him.

They continued their journey and the next day Trevor let Marchan ride without being led. At first the mare wouldn't do what he wanted, but, after a bit, she got the idea and moved as he indicated. He was excited to think of it.

Dusk a few days later caught them as they approached a small village. The gatekeeper was surprised to see a dwarf atop a horse, but let them in without a problem and directed them to an inn where they might spend the night. After the innkeeper showed them their room, they entered the public room for supper. The fire smoldered and various patrons sat around the tables. A lutist was plying his trade. After they found a table, a wench came and asked them if they wanted supper.

They agreed and asked for some ale to go with it. They listened as the lutist sang the Ballad of Jilan's Flight.

'A man of the villages, run from his home,
Burdened with life, tired to death
Aged forever, young as a duckling
Always alive, never living

The music took Marchan away to some of the stories that he remembered his father telling. He suddenly missed him terribly. It seemed forever since they had buried him, and yet just yesterday. Marchan longed to see him again.

Suddenly, he woke up. The supper and the ale had been finished and he had fallen asleep at the table. He looked around and noticed that he wasn't the only one. Trevor was talking with someone in the corner.

Marchan was about to say something when he realised what had woken him. A large burly man had entered the room and was seething at the sight of Marchan. He recalled the look on Martug's face and knew what was coming. He ducked. Just in time. The table his head had been on splintered in pieces as the man's fist dove into it. He yelled and tried again as Marchan slipped away under the next table.

The man started yelling, 'Get that thing out of my house! I want nothing to do with such vermin. Get it out of here.'

The serving wench, at whom he was yelling, ran over to Marchan and ushered him outside.

'The landlord is not a kind man. My master lets the rooms for him. Come, let's get your things and get you out of the house. Hopefully your friend will have the sense to come out of the public room and join us.'

They rushed to the room and Marchan took the packs and headed back to the stables. The horses were comfortable in their stalls and not a little upset to have their rest cut short. Trevor and the man he had been talking with met them there.

'This is Charook,' Trevor said. 'Charook, this is Marchan.'

'It is a pleasure to meet the son of a noble race,' said Charook. 'Come my home is not far. I will put you and your horses up for the night.'

The serving girl said, 'I'll watch the landlord so he doesn't see you leave together. I've no idea why he hates you, but there's no telling what he might do.'

'You are as wise as you are beautiful, Kaidlan,' Charook said. 'Please be sure no one knows. I look forward to seeing you later.'

She smiled at him and headed back to the public room.

'Come,' said Charook when she was gone. 'I will show you to my home.'

He led them out of the innyard and down a few dark lanes and came to a small house, a bit apart from the others, but still within the walls.

'I've a small gate over there which your horses should be able to go through,' said Charook. 'I'll let you out there in the morning.'

'Why did the landlord act like that?' Trevor asked after they had seen to the horses.

'Some people apparently blame my race for losing some battle,' said Marchan. 'It's a little strange to me since I wasn't even born yet.'

'I'm not sure that's why the landlord is like that,' said Charook. 'He tends to do all kinds of strange things. Last year, he got the notion someone in town looked a bit too pale. Claimed the poor guy was a freak of nature and beat him to a pulp. Then punished anyone who would have anything to do with him. The guy eventually left. I've not heard anything about him recently.'

'That's horrible!' said Trevor. 'Some people think I'm a bit paler than most. I'm glad we're just passing through.'

'Yes, be glad,' said Charook. 'Now, I'm afraid I don't have any beds to put you up in. I normally sleep on this mat myself. You're welcome to it for this evening. I'll sleep over here.'

'Oh, don't bother yourself about your mat. You sleep there. We've got bedrolls in our baggage,' said Marchan. 'Thanks for offering though.'

'Well, then it won't be a horrible night,' said Charook.

They retrieved their bedrolls and settled down for the night.