Miri was no longer scared of ponies. Instead, she had learned to be scared of much bigger things.

To a girl brought up with the plenty of the sea, the famine she saw around her was needless. Hollow eyed children with swollen bellies, ragged farmers on the road to the city in search of food, and a better life. Even Commander Buri's tales of Sarain were nothing compared to this.

Miri had been one of these on the road to the city in a happier time. She had joined the Queen's Riders before any of this started, whilst Ozorne was a strange name and Carthak was a million leagues away. When the legendary animals that had plagued and enriched Tortall in the years that had passed had been just that: legendary. The Queen's Riders was far removed from her humble fishing village, with its solitary school and temple. The Palace started as a bewildering yet spectacular monument to the greatness of her country. Now it was home. A home she had not seen much in the past year.

Thundering down the side of the highway, she was delivering proclamations to the furthest fiefs that swore loyalty to King Jonathan. More reforms, some changes in law. All very dry, offering no hope to these poverty stricken farmers. Help was on its way - the lesser aflicted fiefs were sending aid. Food and healers would be here soon. That was of little comfort to that orphaned child, bawling by the side of the road. No stranger would help it, and Miri knew that if she were to throw it some of her rations, they would be taken by someone stronger and fitter. She would have gone hungry for no reason.

Suddenly, her pony reared and Miri had to fight to remain seated. A few rough hands grabbed at her reins, and she knew her inattention had led to her stepping into an ambush. In the not so distant past, people would never have dared attack Riders on the highway, but now, desperate times bred desperate men. Her horse was worth more than she was: her tack and pittance of money would be discarded, whilst her horse would be butchered and sold. It had happened to incresing numbers of Riders recently.

Her boots and drawn dagger and steady seat soon saw off the ruffians. Hopefully she had marked a few, rendering them liable to be questioned. But she would have to push on to reach the nearest fief before dark. Then the roads became really dangerous.

******

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Lord Argul's loud and strident tones rang out from the top table. Miri had arrived just as his lordship was sitting down to dinner. She was seated with the servants, in the back of the lavish hall. Lord Argul was what you could call conservative. He liked his servants in their place, and his dinner on the table. Miri had presented her dispatches to him before being led to her seat by a sullen maid. He was reading them with grease stained fingers.

The utter silence of the room was unsurprising. Miri had been in these sorts of halls before. The servants kept their heads down and ate, and ignored their lord as much as possible. Miri's attempts of conservation had met with a shushing gesture on one side, and a ducking motion from the other. The girls beside her were of an age with her youngest sister: sixteen or so. Yet some of them were nursing young children and some of the others showed signs of joining them sooner or later.

Miri was sorely tempted to ask after the fathers, nearly certain that my lord Argul would be named. But the lord's pontificating got in the way of any discreet enquiries.

"It's ridiculous!" A loud belch punctuated this statement, as Argul waved the decleration making bondsmen illegal in the air. He waved a chicken leg in the other. Miri went back to her thin soup, wishing she didn't have to spend the night here. At least she could leave with the first light of dawn, pleading urgent dispatches further along the border.

"How is a man supposed to keep body and soul together." At least she could leave. Her dinner companions were stuck here until Argul decided he'd have enough of them, and then they would join the steady stream of people headed towards Corus or Port Caynn. Her next port of call was the near empty fief of Mindelan, friendly to the King, with the Baron away in the Yamani Islands.

Suddenly, dinner was over, and the assembled struggled to its feet to watch Argul leave the room. Miri sank back to her seat, looking for a respite from the exhaustion swmping her. She'd been on the road a week, without stop, with meagre rations. It was an idiocy when the steward appeared at her shoulder, ordering her to my lord Argul's chambers. Most lords considered themselves above the Riders, and were happy to let them find a pallet among the horses in the stables. Some lords even allowed her a bed in the house. Argul was evidently not going to let her play the role of a mere messenger.

She caught sight of herself in a mirror as she left the hall. Eyes deeply shadowed, sunken cheeks, the scar from a stormwing's claws standing sharply out in contrast to the paleness of her skin. The rough wash she'd had at the well had merely slicked back her hair - the rest of her remaining dusty from the road. Was there any sign of the hopeful youth she'd been in this old and battle-scarred woman?

Luckily, Argul just wanted someone to rant at, not requiring more than a "yes, my lord" every so often. Dealing with the nobility had never been something Miri was all that good at. Thayet and Commander Buri didn't seem to count, and neither did the officers and knights she'd met during the defence of Port Legann. These petty lords, whose influence only extended as far as their fief's borders, were awkward to deal with sometimes. Some of them expected far too much from a Rider. It was not that much later when the steward arrived once more to lead her to a pallet, which she collapsed onto grateful, easily sliding into a light sleep.

Miri never slept peacefully. The dreams were common now - first faces of dead friends - Riders, then their wounds and then the monsters that wounded them. Miri was scared of the monsters. It was easy to wake before dawn, saddle her pony and start riding against the stream of people towards Mindelan.

This time she would just keep her eyes on the road.