Bastion

regardless, I’m going to see about keeping these boys for myself.” She grinned. “I just might commission myself a new caravan if I can’t have this one.”
    He wondered what the other three were doing inside that rolling cottage. He was pretty sure he knew what Bear and Lena would have liked to get up to, but Amily’s presence would put a damper on that.
    Amily was probably reading. Lena was probably practicing—the notes of a softly plucked gittern couldn’t be heard outside those stout walls. Bear? Either making notes, or maybe sorting out herbs into his kits. He had one full cupboard devoted to just the herbs for his kits in there, but he had explained that it was better, so far as taking up space was concerned, for him to store them in bulk and make up the kits as he went along.
    Last night, the wind had blown most of the leaves down off the trees, and the sky had gone overcast. The wind had died down, but it was almost as cold as it had been last night, with the leaf scent gone bitter, and the air feeling even colder with the damp in it. There was the least little hint of fog, less fog and more a chilly haze in the distance and blurring the tops of the trees. The entire world was painted in shades of brown and gray now; autumn was nearly over, and winter right at hand.
    Mags was glad that Lita had given in to staying at the inns Jakyr planned to choose. I’ve gotten soft since I got to the Collegium, he thought wryly. Beds, regular hot meals . . . hard to do without ’em when you got used to having ’em.
    He wondered just how well the Guard had stocked The Bastion—and just what the purported caves looked like. If they were just shallow indentations, enough to shelter supplies but not much more, it was going to be a very cramped and crowded winter, unless they could come up with some auxiliary shelter.
    He and Dallen mulled that over as they trotted alongside the caravan. Lita seemed perfectly content just to drive, humming to herself under her breath. Jakyr dropped back a little, riding just in front of the horses, but he didn’t seem inclined to conversation. That left Mags and his Companion free to consider options.
    :It might just be best to make a second bedroom under the caravan. We could wall it all around, give it a floor. Use the canvas to cut the wind, back it with firewood or pack straw in between canvas and, say, some laths. Then Bear and Lena would have some privacy and you’d have privacy from them.:
    Mags thought that over. :Might could do the same sorta thing with a wall for one of them indentation caves. If we did that, could put a fire in there, wouldn’t be so cold.:
    Neither option seemed particularly comfortable however. He went over what he remembered from the reports. Surely the brief descriptions had suggested real caves. . . .
    :That’s how I remember it,: Dallen agreed.
    With real caves they could have real comfort. Real beds, even; easy enough to make a fine bed with a little wood, a lot of hay, and some canvas. Why, if the cave entrance was big enough, they could move the caravan inside, and whoever was lucky could sleep in it!
    :What’m I thinking? Bear and Lena’ll get it, sure as sure.:
    As the morning turned to noon, the terrain on either side of the river turned hillier. Mags didn’t envy the farmers who had to plow their fields here. Though most of the land seemed to be given up to orchards and grazing, there were still fields that had been cultivated, the plowing following the contours of the hills, giving them a slightly terraced look. He spotted more than one farmer out covering the fields with old straw or beanstalks or even leaves.
    :That’s to hold the soil on the side of the hill over the winter,: Dallen told him. It seemed a sensible precaution. :In the spring, all that will be plowed under. You won’t find anyone burning leaves or straw out here; no one wastes anything.:
    Lots of sheep here, which moved slowly away from the strangers on the road in an uneasy, woolen cloud, as their guardian dogs kept a wary eye out.
    By contrast, the cattle paid no attention to them at all, and the few horses—ponies, really—that were out in the fields came up to the fences to stare. Some whickered at the vanners, who replied but didn’t stop moving.
    :This is where some of your Kirball ponies are from,: Dallen told him. Well, he could see how they would have to be sure-footed on this terrain.
    Around noon or a little after, Mags spotted a thin stream of