<em>Clip, clop, clip, clop.</em>Lady's progress beat a regular, lazy rhythm as she plodded along the city streets.  Behind her, the cart rumbled along, its wooden wheels squeaking.  In it, the still-restrained Briallen lay, wearing only a loose-fitting tunic, the sole concession to modesty that Brand had allowed her.  It was obvious that the garment had seen much use; although it was probably originally white, it had faded to a dirty beige, and was stained and threadbare in places.  Her own clothes were stuffed behind him in one of his saddlebags; he would go through them later.  Most likely they would be sold to a tailor he knew in town, who would then turn them around as his own goods.  There was a sort of tidy efficiency to it that Brand loved.<br/><br/>He wasn't completely heartless.  He'd given Briallen a sack of grain to use as a pillow so that her head didn't bounce against the baseboards every time the cart ran over a rock or the wheels went through a furrow.  He had his swordbelt at his left hip, in case that he experienced any sort of bandit trouble; he had his whip curled up on his right, in case his captive managed to free herself and tried to escape.<br/><br/>In the middle distance, the stark minarets and parapets of Castle Cormac looked dark and ominous against the sky.  To many, those bleak towers evoked fear; Brand, however, was immune.  He merely shaded his eyes with his hand as he led his horse and cargo onward.<br/><br/>It wasn't until they had reached the gate-house of the castle that he stopped, Cormac's guards approaching him to inspect his baggage.   Their fierce countenances passed over the young, helpless seventeen-year old, their condescending smirks like leering vultures.<em>Another playtoy for the King.  </em><br/><br/>He was waved on to the stables, and there he dismounted, letting the hostler tend to Lady and detach the cart from her tack.  He threw one leg over the cart rail, and leaned down to untie the rope that secured Briallen's ankle.  "We're nearly there," he told her, casually.  "And then you will be no longer my concern.  A brief stop to eat, drink, and do your business; then we dress you up, make you look presentable.  And then--the King."<br/><br/>The last bond was undone, allowing her to stand up.  Standing on the edge of the cart, Brand pointed to an empty stall, one of the stalls used normally for the horses.  "In there you will find a bucket.  Use it to relieve yourself; I'll be in shortly with some food and drink."