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He explained his mission in broad terms； first as a diplomatic messenger for Sir Andrew； then on his own after his strange encounter with Draffut。 That was a well…nigh incredible tale； he realized； but Kristin watched him closely as he spoke and he thought that she believed him。 If she had ever heard of Mark； the despoiler of the Blue Temple； she did not appear to connect that person with the man before her。 He sometimes thought； hearing his own name in the song of some passing stranger； that he was famous。 But actually the name was mon enough。 And fortunately for his chances of avoiding the Blue Temple assassins； his face was not famous at all。
Before they left the stream； he tried to study his own face in the quietest available pool。 〃How do I look？〃 His fingers searched his forehead。
〃There's a scar。 No more than that。 A simple scar； you'll still be handsome。〃 She kissed it for him。
He sat back。 〃So； as you see； I was on my way to Tasavalta anyway。 As a courier。〃
〃How convenient。〃 She kissed him again。
〃Yes。 What is the Princess like？〃
〃A few years； older than I am。〃 Kristin paused。 〃I can hardly claim to know her。〃
〃I suppose not。 We'd better get moving。〃
They were dressed； in washed garments； and packed and back on their animals heading east； before Mark resumed the conversation。 〃I don't know Tasavaltan customs at all well。 Should I be asking you who your parents are？ I mean； what is the customary way of taking a wife in your land？ Who else must I talk to about it； if anyone？〃
〃My parents are both dead。〃
〃Sorry。〃
〃It was long ago。 Yes； there will be people we have to see。 Old Karel first； I suppose。 He's my uncle； and also my teacher in magic。 A rather well…known wizard。 You may have heard of him？〃
〃No。 But I've known other magicians； they don't frighten me especially。 We'll see your Uncle Karel。。。 by the way； will you marry me？〃
Kristin appeared vaguely disappointed。 〃You know I will。 But I am glad you thought to ask。〃
〃Ah yes。〃 And again there was an interval in which no thoughtful planning could be acplished。
The interval over； Mark said； 〃I gather you're not exactly looking forward to seeing your old uncle。 He was intent on consecrating you as a sorceress； is that it？〃
〃Partly。〃
He felt somewhat relieved； he could have imagined worse。 〃Well； not all the women who are good at magic are virgins； I can assure you of that。〃 He paused。 〃I mean。。。〃
They cautiously approached and entered a deserted house； and then another； and helped themselves to a few items of clothing the inhabitants had not bothered to take with them when they fled。 Mark wondered whether to leave payment； and decided not … the arrival of Vilkata's looters seemed likely to occur before the return of the proper owners。 Feeling a shade more civilized； they rode on。
It struck Mark that Kristin was resisting making plans for their own future。 She loved him； they were going to marry； that much was certain between them。 But she was reluctant to go into details at all。 A sense of mystery； of something withheld； persisted。 Mark put it down to exhaustion。 Though Woundhealer had restored them marvelously； still the journey was hard and their food meagre。
Yet it was happy； despite continued difficulties and periods of fear。 And as they left the last fringes of the area already devastated by Vilkata's army； their own foraging became correspondingly easier。 Farms and houses were even fewer now； this was a region sparsely inhabited in the best of times。
Mark tried to count up the days of their journey。 Watching the phases of the Moon； he decided it was now almost a month since he had approached and entered Vilkata's camp。
At last there came the day when they rode into sight of a banner of blue and green； raised on a tall rustic pole。 The Tasavaltan flagpole stood atop a crag that overlooked the road； just where the road entered the first pass of mountain foothills。 Kristin shed tears at sight of the flag； Mark had to look at her closely to be sure that they were tears of joy。
She assured Mark that what he had been told of Tasavalta was correct； that although it was not a huge land it was certainly spectacular。 In any event he could now begin to see that for himself。 Kristin explained the topography in a general way： there were two main mountain ranges； one right along the coastline to the east； the other a few kilometers inland； just inside the first long line of sheltered valleys。 Both these ranges were really southern extensions of the Ludus Mountains； now many kilometers to the north。
〃I grew up in sight of the Ludus；〃 Mark said。 〃We could see them on a clear day； anyway； from home。〃
Despite the southern latitude they had now reached； here in late summer there were still traces of ice and snow visible upon the highest Tasavaltan peaks ahead。 The coast was deeply cut with fjords here； and cold ocean currents kept this almost tropic land in a state of perpetual spring。
Mark and Kristin pushed on； urging their tired riding beasts past that first frontier marking。 Mark kept glancing at his panion。 She was more often silent now； and looked more worried the farther they went。
He asked Kristin suddenly； 〃Still worried about what your teacher in the white arts is going to say？〃 〃That's not it。 Or not altogether。〃
Still the secrecy； and it annoyed him。 〃What； then？〃
But she would not give him what he considered a straight answer； and his annoyance grew。 Something about her family； he supposed。 What they were going to say when she brought home an almost penniless foreign soldier as a prospective husband。 Mark was sure by now that Kristin's family were no peasants。 Well； the two of them had been traveling alone together for a month。 If her people were like most of the well…to…do families that Mark had known； that would be a powerful inducement for them to give their consent。 In any case he was going to marry her； he would entertain no doubt of that； and he kept reassuring himself that she showed no hesitation on that point either。
She might； he sometimes thought； be withholding information about some plication or obstacle。 If she feared he might be influenced by anything like that … well； she didn't yet know him as well as she was going to。
Once they had passed that first flagpole marking the frontier； the road immediately improved。 It also began a steeper climb； sometimes requiring long winding switchbacks。 For the first time on this journey Mark could glimpse the sea； chewing at the feet of the coastal mountains。 It was deep blue in the distance； then the color of Kristin's eyes； then as it met land frothed into white。 Now； on either side of the road； there were meadows； presently being harvested of hay by industrious…looking peasants who were not shy about exchanging waves at a distance with shabbily dressed wayfaring strangers。 The lifesaving cloak of Vilkata's colors had long since been rolled up into a tight black bundle and lodged behind Mark's saddle。
Now Kristin pointed ahead； to where the sunspark of a heliograph could be seen winking intermittently from the top of a small mountain。 〃That may be some message about us。 In times like these； the lookouts tend to take notice of