At the Queen_s command

The man hesitated, then did his best to crush it in a grip of surprising strength. "Caleb. Caleb Frost."

"Pleased to meet you, Caleb." Owen matched his grip firmly, pumped his arm, then freed his hand. He let Caleb see him flexing it. "If I could trouble you…"

Caleb arched an eyebrow.

"On my ride back from seeing the Prince, I encountered a beast, eight foot at the shoulder, dark brown, long legs, huge rack of antlers."

"Bowled or more like branches?"

"Bowled, with spikes coming off them."

"That's a moose, most like."

"'Most like?' There's more than one creature answering that description?"

Caleb laughed. "Have to wonder at the wisdom of the Crown."

"I beg your pardon."

"How is it they send you out here for scouting, and you don't know the first thing about Mystria?" Caleb slapped his thigh. "But you'll just be sitting on your tuffet here while others do your work, I 'spect. Just like the others."

"Did any of the other scouts ride out to see the Prince directly upon their arrival?"

Caleb's brow furrowed. "Don't recall them much leaving town."

"So, perhaps, I'm not much like them."

"Perhaps not."

Owen scowled. "So, how is it you know why I'm in Mystria?"

"It ain't as if the Ryngian war is any secret. What with them building forts to the west, we expected something would be done. But more to your point, Sergeant Major Hilliard told my father about you when he brought your things. And Cask and Branch been spreading it around that Langford has hired them to see you upriver. Easy work for them."

"What are you saying, sir?"

"Well, Captain Strake, it works this way." Caleb grinned broadly. "Colonel Langford pays Cask and Branch to guide some Norillian fop around. They take him out into some of the nastiest country they can find. The officer comes back, the boys go out hunting, trapping, trading. They talk to the Twilight People, get told what the Ryngians are doing, and that gets written up in the report. They include maps and the like, which is mostly worthless. And half the Twilight People trade with the Ryngians, so they're not inclined to be telling the whole truth, if you catch my meaning."

"But the Colonel has his duty."

"Sure, to himself. The trading Cask and Branch do is for him. He sends skins back under military impound. A friend in Norisle brokers them for him. No duty on them, you see. I hear tell he has a thousand pounds waiting for him in the City."

And Langford expects I will do the same as the others.

"Thank you, Caleb, for this information."

The Mystrian nodded. "So you'll be enriching yourself, too. Long as you treat my family right, it'll be soft duty."

"No, sir, I did not come here for soft duty."

Caleb shot him a sidelong glance. "You can say that now, Captain Strake, but the road to the Prince's estate, that is about as civilized as Mystria gets. Where you want to go, if there have been a dozen Norillians through there, I'll be surprised."

"But surely men have gone…"

"Mystrians, sure. Maybe a hundred." Caleb grinned glowingly. "Something for you to sleep on, Captain Strake. Norillians, maybe a dozen; and considerably less than that made it back alive."

Chapter Six

April 27, 1763

The Frost Residence, Temperance

Temperance Bay, Mystria

C learly Caleb meant to terrify Owen, but the words hadn't had quite that effect. Owen did not fear for himself. If what Caleb said was true, the wilderness remained truly uncharted. Specifically, the maps back at Horse Guards were worthless. If a strategy was being planned based on them, none of the details would be relevant. Any military expedition would be doomed.

Which makes my mission even more important.

Owen looked up, thinking to ask Caleb a question, but was struck by two things. The first was that a remarkable change had overcome his guide. Caleb had straightened up and moved more tightly-not nearly as loose-limbed and gangly as he had first appeared. He'd also tucked his shirt in, buttoned his coat, and had combed fingers through his hair. The transformation effectively disguised him as a gentleman.

Second, they had come to a house at the top of the hill at the corner of Diligence and Virtue streets. The square house rose to three stories with a captain's-walk atop the roof, and a balcony above the door. The house faced the bay and had been constructed of granite blocks, and trimmed with another, lighter stone at the corners. It had a slate roof and two chimneys, one at either end. A granite wall surrounded the house. Well-tended bushes and a couple trees shaded the front.

Caleb pushed open the dual iron gates and beckoned Owen in. A servant came running up the drive from the side of the house and took charge of the horse. He led it off toward the back of the property where, Owen presumed, a stable and carriage house lay.

Owen hesitated. "This is a grand house."

"My grandfather built it." Caleb mounted the steps and opened the door. "Come on."