Cool winds guided Desdira and Abadu as they continued northward, not hurrying their horses.
“We’ll soon be nearing the border,” said the sorcerer. “Two, perhaps three days.”
“We won’t have daylight much longer,” Desdira observed. “When will we come to another village?”
“I’m not yet sure.” Abadu eyed the rocky hills and forests about them. “The plains are far behind. Once over these foothills, we’ll be in field land again and cross into Logne. I sense snow.” He glanced at Desdira. “We’ll wake up to ice and snow tomorrow morning. Let us night ourselves in some of these small caves in the rock.”
Desdira nodded and sighed wearily. “I think I’m toughening up on this journey, Abadu.”
“Probably. But you will be on your throne again, in a time.”
Desdira felt talkative, but she refrained. She
