Ten

C H A P T E R T E N

t was late in the day when he saw the husk of the forest. Fes paused, staring at the remains of the trees, little more than fingers of what appeared to be rock, though he knew better. This was the Issana Forest, a place burned to husks centuries ago by the dragons and one of the areas closest to Anuhr where someone could see the effect of those ancient creatures. Fog hovered over the ground like a haze of smoke, adding to the impact. Seeing a place like that made it all too easy to

imagine how dangerous the dragons once had been.

He turned away and continued north. As he rode, dark clouds rose in the distance. Fes had been riding hard, trying to outrun the sound of the thunder rolling in from the east. Every so often, a drop of rain would strike him, and he swore to himself, trying to move more quickly. He wanted to outrun the rain, at least put enough space between himself and the rain so that he could find a place to hunker down for the night.

Had the rain come, he would've missed the dust cloud in the distance.

Could that be Alison and the priest?

It was too large. Even without getting close to it, he knew that. That meant there was another explanation, though the only other reason that made sense would be the other soldiers.

Hopefully, there were no more than seven. If there were, would he be enough to keep them from catching up to Alison and the priest?

He slowed, wanting to keep a certain space between himself and whoever might be in front of him. When it was darker, it would be easier to approach, and he wouldn't have to fear quite as much about who was there and what they might be after.

It was nearly dusk when rain started.

It came down gently at first. It was a drizzling sort of rain and more uncomfortable and unpleasant than anything else. Thunder followed, practically pushing the rain faster and faster, forcing it toward him. Fes wrapped his cloak around himself for warmth, but as the drizzling rain changed over to a steadier rainfall, even his cloak wouldn't be enough. And then it began a sheeting rain.

There wouldn't be any place for him to camp out for the night, not where he could get out of the rain. The land around him was mostly flat, and there were no trees, nothing to provide much protection. He thought about hiding beneath his horse, but the stupid creature would probably trample him while he was sleeping.

He crested a gently rising hill, and lights flickered in the distance. A village.

It wasn't a large village, no more than a couple dozen homes, but even a village of that size would have someplace for him. And for the soldiers.

Would Alison and the priest be there too? There was no reason Alison wouldn't stay in a village overnight, especially as it would provide a certain level of protection. If they were there, the soldiers would reach them without them having a chance to react.

Fes kicked the horse up to a gallop and reached the village shortly after full dark.

Lights flickered in some windows, and he climbed off the horse and walked it inside the village. He looked for signs of an inn, anything where the soldiers might stay for the night, and found it near the center.

He tied the horse up before entering.

There was a dining hall, if it could be called that. It was simple, a row of two long tables with benches on either side. A smattering of people sat on the benches, some grouped together and murmuring while others ate alone. A hearth at the far end of the room crackled with a warm fire and Fes made his way toward it, wiping the rain out of his hair and dripping in a pool across the floor.

He took a seat at the table, and a waitress approached. She was full- figured and cast him with a strange gaze. "Where you coming from, stranger?"

"Desyl," he said. It was a city near enough to where he thought he might be that it should be believable. He didn't want anyone to know that he came out of the capital.

"What are you doing here then?"

Fes tried to think about what he could remember of the maps of this area. What answer could he give it would be believable? "I'm heading toward Hovn." It was a city on the other side of the empire, and far

enough that he would have to stop along the way. Hovn was known for its goods, and well enough that it shouldn't draw too much attention to the fact that he was heading that way.

"That's a dangerous journey, friend," a man said from the table near him.

Fes looked over. He was an older man who was missing two of his front teeth, and he grinned at Fes while taking a bite of vegetables.

"Why is it dangerous?" he asked.

"Not many make that journey, not with the rebellion being what it

is."

"I don't put a lot of stock in the rebellion," Fes said.

The man scooted closer to him and leaned in. "No? Most people

around here might not put much stock in the rebellion, but I can

guarantee you that folks who come from Desyl would. From what I hear, the rebellion has already made its way there. Even the emperor's men can't tamp it down."

Could the rebellion be strong enough to risk attacking the army?

If so, could that have been the rebellion that had attacked the Bayars? Talmund hadn't thought so, and Fes was inclined to believe him, but what if it had been?

Could he be chasing rebellion troops back to their stronghold?

The waitress returned with a plate of food and set in front of Fes. He picked at a lump of overly done meat, shredding it off before stuffing it in his mouth. His stomach had been rumbling, and it was good to have food.

The other man kept watching him. He'd have to engage him in conversation or find some other way of placating him. "Are you from there?" Fes asked in between bites.

The man shook his head. "No. I come from Boldon."

That was to the south, almost to the capital. "Then you don't know. There might be rumors, but that's all they are. Rumors. Those of us who live there know the truth."

The man grinned. "I suppose that's right, though I suppose if I were from there, I would know that the rebellion has begun to press in, pushing in on the emperor's lands." He leaned closer to Fes again and flashed another smile. "Rumor is that they are after the dragon fields."

Fes snorted. "Who isn't after the dragon fields?" He glanced over at the man. "The emperor has long used the dragon fields to hold power. A fire mage like him would be able to use those artifacts to push back the rebellion." He shrugged. "Those of us from Desyl don't care so much about that. The emperor doesn't make himself known all that much, and so long as trade keeps coming through, what do we care?"

"There were others that came through here earlier in the day," the man said

"What kind of others?"

Man shrugged. "The kind of others I don't mess with. I see them, I see their swords, see the hint of crimson on their cloaks, and I know better."

Crimson. That meant the empire. And not the soldiers he'd feared.

Could they have taken care of the other soldiers? If so, then he didn't have to worry about the priest. The empire's soldiers would ensure their safety. "Yeah? The emperor sent men through here? It seems a little out of the way."

"Not if the rumors out of Desyl have any meat to them." The man took another bite and sat upright. "Then again, as you're from there, you would know, wouldn't you?"

He ignored the man he began to eat, digging into his meat. The food was stringy and tough, and the vegetables were mushy, but it was food. It was better than the dried jerky that he had been eating on the road, and the mug of ale set in front of him was warm and pleasant. The fire felt wonderful against his skin, helping dry out his cloak. All he needed was a few hours here, and he could get back on the road, let the storm pass, and be back after Alison and the priest.

"Anyone else come through here?" Fes asked.

"No one that matters. A group of men and a woman, but they didn't stay long, trying to get ahead of the rain." He scratched his chin. "Though there was a priest. We don't see too many priests down in Boldon, though I know they're there. Most the time, they stay to themselves, or they make their way up to the dragon fields, doing their weird worship of the remains."

Fes snorted. He tried to hide his interest. "How long ago was the priest through here?"

"They said he came a day ago. Didn't stay long. Had something to eat and hurried down from here. Kind enough man, though you know the priests, they have a bit of a temper to them."

"I can't say that I do know the priests." "That right? Even in Desyl?"

Did the priests have more of a presence in Desyl? Maybe he'd made a mistake throwing that out as his homeland, though it had seemed safe enough. What were the odds that someone would know rumors of Desyl here? "How can you ever know really know the priests?" Fes asked, deciding on diversion.

The man shrugged. "That's a question I can't answer."

Fes tried to pull away, getting tired of having this conversation with the man. Now that he knew both soldiers and the priest to have come through, he wanted nothing more from him.

When he finished eating, he took a chair and dragged it over near the fire, sitting close to it with his cloak wrapped around him. He might have drifted off and jerked awake when a minstrel began playing.

The inn was emptier now, not nearly as many people sitting around the tables, and Fes wondered how late it had gotten. The waitress who had been serving him was nowhere to be seen. When he stood, stiffness left him sore. As he reached the door and peeked outside, he saw that the storm had mostly passed.

It was muddy, and as much as he might want to leave, he was bound to turn an ankle and lose the horse if he ventured out tonight. It was better to wait until morning, better to wait until there was more daylight, which meant that he was holing up here for the night.

When he turned back, three men stood in front of him.

"You have the look of someone who works for the emperor," one of the men said. He was tall, almost as tall as Fes, and had a muscular build. His hands were stained, and there was a quiet sort of strength about him. He was a man to be careful with. The other two with him were shorter, and they stood off to the side, deferring to the first man.

Now he was getting accused of working for the emperor outside the city? It was bad enough in the city, especially when people like Alison felt that lessened him, but what about him looked like an empire soldier here?

"Is that a problem?" Fes asked. "Last I heard, we're part of the empire."

"We might be part of the empire, but that don't mean that we have to have love for the emperor."

Fes leaned close, unmindful of the fact that the man could punch him. These fools needed to be careful, especially as there had been actual empire soldiers through here recently. "Is that right? No love for the emperor? What happens if he sends his men up here?"

"I thought you said you didn't work for them."

"Well, now I seem to remember I didn't answer that question. You came here accusing me of something, and I simply said nothing."

"Like the empire. It's done nothing here. They let them move through here, openly attacking—" One of the other men grabbed his arm, cutting him off, but the man shook him off. "If he's with the empire, we're going to get them to pay attention to us."

"I'm not here to argue," he said.

"No? Then what are you here for? And if you're not with empire, are you with them?"

Fes frowned. What was taking place here?

"Just step back and let me leave." He pulled open his cloak and grabbed each of his daggers.

The man snorted. "You don't scare us. There's just you. No soggy man coming into the middle of Jalden all alone like this is to be feared. Now, the woman with bright red hair and angry gleam to her eyes? That's a different matter."

Fes squeezed the hilt of his daggers more tightly.

The man at the table had mentioned a group of men and a woman.

And now the red hair? That was Carter. It had to be.

She was here.

Attacking a caravan wasn't the kind of thing Carter would typically do—and it wasn't the sort of thing she would have the power to do.

That meant something else.

Could her master have been drawn out after this item?

Fes had wondered who employed Carter for the last year and had gotten no closer to getting any answers. Would they finally come now that they were outside of Anuhr and away from the emperor?

What had Horus gotten him into?

It was time for him to go, but he had to deal with this first. "Go sit down," Fes said.

"Sit down? I think it's time for you to be leaving."

"It's middle of the night. I'm not going anywhere," Fes said. "You can sit outside and sleep just as well as you can inside."

Fes looked past the man, intentionally ignoring him. "Is this your tavern?"

The man shook his head.

"Then you have no reason to be throwing me out. Even if it was your tavern, I haven't done anything."

"Don't matter. We don't want you here. There's been too many strangers coming through here. And too much happens when they do."

Fes pulled the daggers from their sheath and stepped toward the man, jabbing the daggers up toward his neck, stopping short of slicing into his throat. "You'll step back and head home. Or to your rooms, if this isn't your home." Based on their comments, Fes suspected it was. "Either way, the only other option is dying."

The other two men acted more quickly than Fes would have expected and reached his arms. The pulled him back, lowering his daggers from the other man's neck.

The first man punched and connected with Fes's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He held onto his daggers, refusing to let them go.

He struggled to catch his wind but needed just a moment. Let the man get closer

He kicked.

He caught the man in the chest, driving him back, so he stumbled over a table. The two men holding onto Fes's arms tried to pull him off to the side, but Fes twisted and managed to bring his wrists down, and the daggers sliced through their forearms.

Anger began bubbling within him.

Fes resisted the urge to let it consume him. It would do no good for him to get into that place here. These men were fools, but that was it. They didn't deserve to be slaughtered.

The men on either side of him grabbed for their wrists, clasping their hands over them as blood spurted.

"You might want to have those looked at," Fes said.

He stalked toward the first man and slammed the hilt of each dagger into his chest. It was enough to hurt, but not enough to do anything more. The man fell back, and Fes followed him, kicking him again and sending him toppling into the tavern.

Checking to ensure the man wasn't dead, Fes wiped his daggers on the man's jacket, then stuffed them back into their sheaths.

He looked around, but no one else in the tavern seemed to be paying much attention to him.

He took a deep breath and made his way back to the hearth. He knew better than to let someone get him riled up, but maybe now he could rest peacefully. At least until morning. Then he'd have to go and see what Carter was up to—and maybe finally learn who she worked for.