Bastion

new.” She chuckled. “Six of us, my pa, ma, and me and my three sibs. Two girls in the cupboard bed below, parents in the bed above, two boys in hammocks slung over the benches. I had reins in my hands at the age most farming younglings are toddling after their folks for their first planting.” She raised an eyebrow. “Probably the same age they put you down in that mine.”
    He nodded. Suddenly he felt as if he had a lot more in common with Lita than he’d had before. They were both working at an age when people like Amily, Bear, and Lena were still allowed to be children.
    “Don’t get me wrong, I loved every moment of it,” Lita continued, and chirruped to the horses, who cocked their ears back at her. “I drove a vanner just like these fellows. They’re a breed apart, I can tell you. Smart, steady, calm, and gentle. Willing, oh, you’ll not find a horse as willing as a vanner. We used to play among their feet and never a care that we might get stepped on. That’s one reason why I stepped in when I got wind of this. I went down to the Horse Market, called on my old friends, and looked over a good many pairs before I picked these two. I knew you’d need the right horses, and I knew you’d need someone who’d done more in the way of driving than take the reins on a pair now and again.”
    “Well, I’m mortal glad you did,” Mags told her sincerely. “I dunno nothin’ about horses. I reckon I’d’ve had to ask Dallen.”
    “Given that your lads can actually talk to horses, you might’ve been all right,” Lita replied, but she sounded dubious. “Still, things can go wrong in the time it takes to blink, and plenty of trouble can happen between a horse spooking and Dallen or Jermayan noticing. Still, I wouldn’t trust anything between the shafts of a caravan but a vanner. I won’t say that vanners won’t spook, but they trust their drover more than most horses, and if the drover stays calm, they settle pretty quickly.”
    “Do you—would you teach me to drive?” Mags asked hesitantly. If Lita would—well, it seemed like a valuable skill to have. Did they make smaller caravans? They must; single traders wouldn’t need this much room, and a trader would make a good disguise. Too bad that Companions wouldn’t take dye . . .
    :Don’t you dare even try.:
    “I intend to,” Lita assured him. “I intend to teach all of you to drive. Even the All-Alone-Herald up there, if he can climb down out of his self-imposed isolation long enough.”
    She said it with an ironic twist of her lips, but Mags caught the underlying bitterness. He deemed it prudent to pretend he hadn’t noticed.
    “Vanners are all-arounds, and these two have been trained for riding as well,” she continued. “We’ll probably not be able to move the caravan until the snow melts once it sets in, so the Three Inseparables in there will have to ride out to the villages. That’s not a problem, you saw the muscles on these lads. They could carry two riders and four packs and not strain themselves.” She chuckled. “I’ll bet Bear and Lena and Amily are walking stiff and sore for a while, though, once they start riding. Striding a vanner is like trying to get your legs around a small house.”
    Mags laughed, because he had noticed how broad a barrel these horses had. He didn’t envy his three friends one bit. Even he, who rode constantly, would have a little trouble adjusting to a horse that large.
    “It feels good to get the reins in my hands again,” Lita mused. “You know, Mags, I think I was getting stale and bad-tempered, cooped up in the Collegium, spending all day solving everybody’s damned problems. I never got to teach anymore. I didn’t get to write or perform nearly as much as I wanted. If Purchell does well in my absence, I think I may just step down and go out on the road again for a while, at least while I’m still fit enough to do it. Or I will if I get to steal this caravan to do it.”
    Mags had to laugh at that, because as cramped for six as the caravan was, it would be quite luxurious for a single person. “Not asking much, are you?”
    Lita straightened up and struck a pose. “I’m a Master Bard, head of Bardic Circle, and Dean of the Collegium. If I don’t deserve it, who does?”
    Mags had to admit, she had him there.
    “And think how jolly this rig would look painted all in Bardic Scarlet! Pick out those vines and flowers in black and gold . . . she’d be a treat. I think,