Free The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley Page B

has been actually ravished of anything beyond a few uncomfortable hours across somebody’s saddlebow or not. It was generally accounted an honor for a Hillman or woman to be seduced by a member of the royal family—which was why
kelar
, originally a royal Gift, continued to turn up in odd places—if a somewhat uncomfortable honor, for who could be entirely at ease with a lover who must never quite meet one’s eyes? And Outlanders were peculiar, as everyone knew, so who did know how they might react?
    “Sola,” Faran quavered, and Corlath paused and turned a little toward the man to indicate that he would listen. “Sola, what will happen when the Outlanders find her gone?”
    “What of it?”
    “They will come after her.”
    “Not if they do not know where she has gone.”
    “But—how could they not know?”
    Corlath smiled grimly. “Because we shall not tell them.” Faran, by his own choice, had not been one of those who accompanied his king to the council with the Outlanders; Forloy and Innath and the others who had gone were wearing smiles to match the king’s. The Outlanders could not see what happened under their very noses. “You shall leave here at once, and travel, slowly, toward the mountains; and set up camp again where the Leik spring touches the surface. There you will wait for me. I will return the way we came, in secret, in three days’ time, so that the girl will not disappear too soon after the Hillfolk were seen in the Outlander station. Then I shall take the girl from her bed as she sleeps in the big house, and ride back to you.”
    There was a meditative silence; at last Faran said: “I would go with you, Sola. My horse is fast.” His voice was still unhappy, but the quaver was gone; and as he looked at the faces of the six Riders who had been with Corlath when he spoke with the Outlander commissioner, he began to feel curious. He had never seen an Outlander, even from a distance; never looked upon an Outlander town.
    After three restless days at the deserted campsite, Corlath, Faran, and Innath rode swiftly back toward the Outlander town. Corlath thought: They can’t see us even in broad daylight when we gallop toward them with cloaks flapping and horses whinnying. We creep like burglars to an empty house, pretending that it has an owner because we can’t quite believe it is this easy.
    Faran and Innath knelt down where they were and did not look as their king left them, for they knew they would see no more than he wished them to. The horses waited as silently as the men, but the king’s bay stallion watched him go. The only sound was the wind whispering through the low brush and the horses’ long manes.
    Corlath reached the house without difficulty; he had expected none. Watchdogs ignored him, or mysteriously counted him a friend. There were several black-and-brown furry shapes lying about sullenly snoring in the Residency garden. Outlander dogs did not like the northeast Border of Daria; and Hill dogs, who would have awakened at once and watched him silently, did not get on well with Outlanders. He passed the stables, but the grooms slept as heavily as the dogs. He couldn’t see in the dark, but even in the places where the moonlight was no help he knew where things were.
    He reached the wall of the house and laid a hand on it. Depending on what sort of a mood the
kelar
was in, he could occasionally walk through walls, without knocking them down first, or at least see through them. And then again, sometimes he couldn’t. It would be tiresome if he had to break in like the common burglar he felt, and wander from room to room looking at faces on pillows. There was even the remote chance he could get caught at it.
    No. This wasn’t going to be one of those times: the
kelar
was with him—since it had gotten him into this dilemma, he thought, at least it was going to help to get him out of it—and he knew almost at once where she was. His only bad moment was when that damned clock in