(Shadowmarch #2) Shadowplay by Tad Williams Page B

than Briony herself. Chastened, she thanked the young woman and wished her the blessing of the Three, then headed back toward the gate and the place outside the walls where Shaso waited.
    And, it suddenly came to her, not only had no one recognized her, it was unlikely anyone would, unless they were Hendon’s troops and they were already looking for her: in all of Marrinswalk only a few dozen people would know her face even were she wearing full court dress—a few nobles, a merchant or two who had come to Southmarch Castle to curry favor. Here in the countryside she was a ghost: since she could not be Briony, she was no one.
    It was a feeling as humbling as it was reassuring.
     
    Briony and Shaso ate enough cheese and bread to feel strengthened, then they began to walk again. As the day wore on they followed the line of the coast, which was sometimes only a stone’s throw away, other times invisible and completely absent but for the rumble of the surf. The valley walls and trees protected them from the worst of the chilly wind. They slipped off the road when they heard large traveling parties coming and kept their heads down when they couldn’t avoid passing others on the road.
    “How far to Oscastle?” she asked Shaso as they sat resting. They had just finished scrambling up a wet, slippery hillside to go around a fallen tree that blocked the road and it had tired them both.
    “Three days or more,” Shaso said. “But we are not going there.”
    “But Lawren, the old Earl of Marrinscrest, lives there, and he would…”
    “Would certainly find it hard to keep a secret of your presence, yes.” The old man rubbed his weathered face. “I am glad to see you are beginning to think carefully.” He scowled. “By the Great Mother, I cannot believe I am so tired. Some evil spirit is riding me like a donkey.”
    “The evil spirit is me,” Briony said. “I was the one who kept you locked up for all that time—no wonder you are tired and ill.”
    He turned away and spat. “You did what you had to do, Briony Eddon. And, unlike your brother, you wished to believe I was innocent of Kendrick’s murder.”
    “Barrick thought he was doing what had to be done, too.” A flood of pain and loneliness swept through her, so powerful that for a moment it took her breath away. “Oh, I don’t want to talk about him,” she said at last. “If we’re not going to Oscastle, where are we going?”
    “Landers Port.” He levered himself up to his feet, showing little of his old murderous grace or speed. “A grand name for a town that never saw King Lander at all, but only one of his ships, which foundered off the coast on the way back from Coldgray Moor.” Shaso almost smiled. “A fishing town and not much more, but it will suit our needs nicely, as you will see.”
    “How do you know all this about Lander’s ships and Coldgray Moor?”
    His smile disappeared. “The greatest battle in the history of the north? And me master of arms for Southmarch? If I did not know any history, then you would have had a reason to hang me in irons in the stronghold, child.”
    Briony knew when it was a good time to hold her tongue, but she did not always do what was best. “I only asked. And merry Orphanstide to you, too. Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
    Shaso shook his head. “I am old and my limbs are sore. Forgive me.”
    Now he had managed to make her feel bad again. In his own way, he was as difficult to argue with as her father could be. And that thought brought another pang of loneliness.
    “Forgiven,” was all she said.
     
    By late afternoon, with Kinemarket far behind them and the smell of smoke rising from the cottages they passed, Briony was hungry again. They had sucked the meat from the eggs long before, but Shaso had kept back half the bread and cheese for later and she was finding it hard to think about anything except eating. The only rival to food was imagining what it would be like to crawl under the warm, heavy