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cleric； explaining what might happen when they reached Fezana； and after。 Ibero noted； a little wryly； that he was entirely conversant now with the location…and the proper spelling…of all the major cities and rivers in Al…Rassan。
Four more days passed。 The spring weather remained mild； they made steady progress； drumming hooves and the dust of an army moving over the grasslands of Al…Rassan。
Then Diego announced； shortly before they broke camp one morning； that he had seen his father riding west。
The king and the constable and the tall cleric from Ferrieres had asked all sorts of questions he couldn't answer。
Once； such questions had made Diego feel inadequate； as if he was letting the questioners down by not being able to reply。 He didn't like disappointing people。 Later； though； the queries…even from his parents…had begun to irritate him； betraying； as they did； such a failure to understand the limits of his capability。 Diego had made himself practice being patient at such times。 The fact was； people didn't understand his limits； they couldn't possibly； because they didn't understand how he did what he did。
Not that Diego really understood his own gift； where it came from； why he had it； what it meant。 He knew some things； of course。 He knew that what he could do marked him as different from others。 He knew…from his mother long ago…that there was some undefined danger associated with being different in this way； and that he was not to tell others about what he could do。
All that； of course； had changed now。 Horsemen had e from the king of Valledo and taken him to war。 Fernan； naturally； had e too。 Fernan was the one who really wanted to go to war； but when they had reached the encampment by Carcasia's walls it had bee clear…during a first intimidating meeting with the king himself and the cleric from over the mountains…that Diego was the one they wanted。 He'd had to explain； shyly； what it was he could do。
Not so much； really。 He could see their disappointment。 At times over the years； he had wondered about all the secrecy and anxiety。 It wasn't a plicated gift： he could sometimes tell where his family was； even when they were far away。 His father； his mother； his brother； though Fernan was never far from him； and his mother very seldom was。
Also； he could sometimes sense danger ing for any of the three of them。 As to that； it had almost always been his father。 His father's life involved quite a lot of danger。
Fernan wanted to be exactly like their father。 He dreamed of it； practiced for it； had rushed through his childhood hungry for a man's weapons； and war。
Fernan was stronger and quicker； though they had been born identical。 There were times when Diego thought their father preferred Fernan； but there were other times when he thought otherwise。 He loved his father without reservation。 Other people found Rodrigo intimidating； he knew。 Diego thought that was funny。 Fernan didn't； Fernan considered it useful。 They differed in such small things。
It didn't much matter； really。 Nothing was ever going to separate the sons of Rodrigo Belmonte； they had realized that； definitively； when they were very young。
Fernan was enjoying almost everything about the campaign they had joined。 Diego thought it was an interesting place to be； certainly better than another summer on the ranch； but he had a recurrence of his old feelings of anxiety when it appeared that he was disappointing those who had brought him here to help。 At that first meeting he had answered the sharp questions from the High Cleric as best he could； and a few from the constable and the king； too。 He liked the king most； though he supposed it wasn't really his place to like the king or not。
In any case； he couldn't be much help to them and he did his best to make that clear。 Some days ago he had sensed his mother's arrival among the main body of the army； half a day behind them。 He had told Fernan； of course。 He'd considered telling the king and the cleric from Ferrieres just to have something to offer them； but thinking about his mother led him to keep quiet。 Her movements； surely； weren't a part of this campaign。 It felt like a kind of betrayal to talk about her； and so he didn't。 Besides； he knew why she had e。 Fernan did； too。 It made Fernan prickly and angry； Diego just felt sad。 They probably ought to have waited for her to e home that day before riding off。 He'd been thinking guiltily about that since they left。
He knew she would not have let them join this army had she been at the ranch when the soldiers arrived。 Fernan had scoffed at that suggestion when Diego mentioned it； pointing out that their mother； forceful as she might be； was hardly likely to have defied a direct summons from the king。
Diego wasn't so sure about that。 He found that he missed his mother。 She was gentler with him than with most people。 He knew Fernan missed her too； but his brother would deny that if Diego spoke of it； so he didn't。 They talked about their father； instead。 It was all right； the way Fernan saw the world； to miss their father。
Then one morning Diego woke with an image of Rodrigo in his mind。 It was blurred； because his father was riding very fast； and the landscape changed too quickly for Diego to get a clear picture。 But he was ing towards them from the east； and he wasn't far away。
Diego lay under his blanket for a little while； eyes closed； concentrating。 He heard Fernan wake up beside him； and start to say something。 Then Fernan was quiet。 He could usually tell when Diego was reaching out； or reaching in。 It was hard to know the right words for this。
The landscape refused to bee clearer。 He saw that his father was with only a few people； not a large pany； and there seemed to be a river beyond him…which would make sense； if Diego remembered the maps correctly。 Rodrigo would be riding along the Tavares。 He seemed to be agitated about something； but Diego had no sense of immediate danger。 He tried casting his mind a little away from his father； to see if he could place him more exactly。 He saw the river； grasslands； hills。
Then； vividly； an image of a city and its walls。 That had to be Fezana。
His father was going into Fezana。
Diego opened his eyes。 Fernan was there； watching him。 Without speaking； his brother offered him an orange； already sliced。 Diego bit into it。
〃Why；〃 he asked softly； 〃would Papa be going into Fezana？〃
Fernan's brow knitted。 〃No idea；〃 he said at length。 〃Is he？ Are you going to tell the king？〃
〃Guess so。 That's why we're here； isn't it？〃
Fernan didn't like thinking of it that way； Diego knew； but it was the truth。 They told Ibero first。 Then Diego and his brother and their tutor went to find King Ramiro。
A remarkably short time after that conversation they were racing； with the king and the constable and one hundred of Valledo's best Horsemen towards Fezana； a full day's fast ride away。
〃This is very important；〃 the king had said to Diego。 〃You have now justified your being here。 We thank you。〃
〃Papa isn't in trouble； is he？〃 Fernan had asked sharply。 He was no longer shy in this pany。 〃He isn't exiled from her