Bard rode forth before dawn the next morning.  The hour was so early that the easternmost sky had not yet begun to flush with the red dawn; all four of the moons were in the sky, though only one near the full; three small crescents, and the pale disk of Mormallor, floating over the distant hills behind them.  Bard's mind was filled with the memory of Carlina's shy kiss; perhaps a day would come when she would kiss him of her own free will, when she would be glad and proud of being married to the king's banner bearer, the king's champion, perhaps the general of all his armies....  His thoughts were pleasant enough as he rode at the head of his first command, small though it was.

On the other hand, Beltran, somberly dressed and wrapped in a great cape, was sullen and morose; Bard sensed that he was angered and wondered why.

Beltran growled, "You seem content enough, and perhaps for you this command is welcome, but I would rather ride north to Hammerfell at my father's side, where he could see whether I do well or ill; and here I am sent to capture a caravan, sent off like the leader of a bandit gang!"

Bard tried to tell his foster brother how important it might be, to make sure that the clingfire from Dalereuth never reached Serrais, to be used against the fields and villages and forests of Asturias; but Beltran could only see that he had not been given the privilege of riding at his father's right hand, in sight of his armies.  "My only comfort is that you will not take my rightful place there," he grumbled.  "That post he gave to Geremy... damn him, damn all the Hasturs!"

Here Bard shared Beltran's displeasure and thought it politic to let him know it.

"Right; he promised me I should have Geremy at the head of the sorcerers riding with us, and at the last moment he tells me he cannot spare Geremy to me, and has given me three strangers," he added his grumbling to Beltran's.  He looked ahead to where they rode, a little apart, from the picked combat men he had chosen; a tall laranzu, graying, his red moustaches hiding half his lower face, and two women, one overplump for riding, ambling on a donkey, and one thin, childish girl, so deeply shrouded in her gray corcerer's cloak that Bard could not make out whether she fair or plain.  He knew nothing of these three, nothing of their competence, and he wondered nervously if they would be willing to accept him as leader of this expedition.  The laranzu in particular; although, like all of his kind, he rode unarmed except for a dagger at his side, a small knife such as a woman might wear, he looked as if he had been riding on campaigns such as this since long before Bard was born.

He wondered if this was Beltran s apprehension, too, but he soon found that the prince's displeasure was from quite another cause.

"Geremy and I pledged one another we would ride together to battle this year, and now he has chosen to remain at the king's side -"

"Foster brother," Bard said seriously, "a soldier hears only the voice of his commander, and his own wishes must be subordinate to that."

Prince Beltran's voice was petulant.  "I am sure, if he had told my father of this, Father would have honored our promise and given Geremy to this expedition.  After all, it is only a stupid matter of chasing down caravans, not much more important than riding out to capture bandit raiders on the border," he added; and Bard, frowning, knew suddenly why the king had said firmly to him that he, and not Prince Beltran, was really in command of this expedition; quite obviously, the prince had no notion of the strategic importance of the clingfire caravans!

If Prince Beltran has no military sense, no wonder my lord the king is eager to train me for command at last; so that if he cannot leave his armies in the hands of his son, he may leave them to his son-in-law....  If he has no son fit for a general of all his armies, he will marry his daughter to his own general instead of to a rival outside his borders....

He tried to make Prince Beltran see something of the importance of his mission, but Beltran was sulking, and at last said, "I can see that you want it to be important, Bard because it makes you feel more important."  And Bard shrugged and let it go.