The dalla was making hard work of the ride, his exhaustion dulling even the reflexes needed to cling to the saddle of the slowly moving horse. Koli had moved beside him, ready to catch him should he begin to topple.

Two of the captured horses were limping despite the slow pace, but Storm refused to cut them out. It was a weakness that Koli filed for future consideration, but did not carp about.

“How much farther,” Storm asked, trotting up from his position at the rear of the small procession.

Koli looked slowly around, surveying the scenery and fitting it into his memories. “We should be at the spring by nightfall even at this snail’s pace.”

Storm shook his head. “I want to be there at least half an hour before that.”

“As do I, but you’re the one who wants to spare the lamed animals.”

Storm swung wide and leaned far over in the saddle, examining the gaits of the weakest horses, gauging their condition against the need to arrive at the spring with daylight available. One roan gelding —the one with the poorly trimmed hoof— was limping broadly. The black mare with the white stockings favored her off hind leg due to a badly split hoof.

Swinging in close, he waved Koli ahead. “Pick up the pace a bit. I’ll catch up.” He was dismounting even as Koli’s protest slashed the air above his head. “Go on, I said!” he told the angry trader.

Catching up the roan, he waited until the others had moved well off. “C’mere, knothead,” he called Sandahl.

The stud moved close, and Storm snubbed the gelding’s reins to his saddle. “Hold him,” Storm told the stud. “God, I hope he ain’t a sitter.”

Moving around behind the gelding, he took hold of a hind leg, swinging one of his own around to catch the cannon between his knees. Gently, working with a clasp knife he’d picked up in the thieves’ station, he pried the poorly fitted shoe from the hoof.

It had been decades since he’d done anything like this, and then he’d had the proper tools, but at least the gelding wasn’t trying to sit on him like some other horses he’d shod as a boy. It took forever, but the shoe finally fell clear. Taking up one of the daggers, legs straining at the unnatural stance, he drew the edge of the blade along the bad edge of the hoof, paring it as evenly as he could under the circumstances.

The horse jerked his leg periodically, not liking the odd position much, but the man eventually got the hoof trimmed to his satisfaction. It took him most of another hour to complete all four hooves with his inadequate tools. Finished at last, he walked the animal around in circles, watching closely the way it moved.

“Well,” he told it, “you might make it at that. Bet it’s been awhile since you ran barefoot, though, huh?”

Still, he wasn’t happy as he resumed Sandahl’s back. It had taken far longer to unshoe the animal than he’d anticipated. Now, even if Koli and the dall managed to reach the spring in daylight, he certainly wouldn’t

It was well after dark and the gelding was moving much better by the time the spring materialized out of the darkness. There was a small fire, heavily banked, providing only a dim glow, insufficient to see if anyone attended it.

Sandahl broke stride, snorting through his nose. Storm straightened in the saddle, instantly alert.

Koli rose out of the shadows almost at the stud’s feet, still well clear of the water and clearly agitated.

Storm brought the horse up, swinging his eyes right and left before zeroing in on the were.

“What is it?” man asked wolf.

“Soldiers at the spring,” the wolf told him flatly.

Dismounting, Storm peered toward the campfire. He’d been ready to ride up to the fire like a big assed bird. The thought sent a chill up his spine. “Same bunch?”

“No. I cannot approach from this direction in this form without their mounts alerting them, but they are clearly regular line troops, not sl— guards.”

“How many?”

“Too many.”

“How many?”

The wolf drew his lips back from his hind teeth. The man was a sore trial. “Twenty-five heavy infantry and two mounted officers.”

The man thought hard. “That doesn’t seem right. Does the army commonly move squad strength units across the open plain afoot?”

The wolf rocked his head back, tilting it in thought. He’d given that aspect no consideration, merely being alarmed that there were soldiers at the water at all. “Now that you bring it up, no. If infantry moves across the plain at all, they normally travel in companies or regiments. Rarely in larger formations, never in smaller.”

The man looked toward the campfire again. “And only one fire? So small a fire?” He looked back to the wolf. “Did you strike their trail?”

“I never even looked for their trail. There they were, what else could a trail tell me?”

“I’m not sure at this point.” the man admitted. “But I’m confused, and when I’m confused, I like to get all the information I can lay hands on.” He looked back to the fire, trying to pick out something surrounding it without focusing his attention too deeply. He’d seen guys who could feel eyes on them. Hell, he was one of them. “Where are Joblar and the other horses?”

“Hidden in a small swale about a stad to the west.”

“Joblar knows about the soldiers?”

“Of course,” the wolf snapped.

“How is he, by the way?”

“Still not good for much, but he’ll be on his feet by morning. The dall are a sturdy people.”

The man was moving away from the horses, circling around to the east. Still in a whisper, he asked, “they have sentries out?

“Not far enough out to detect us,” the wolf said calmly. "I wouldn’t let you get in that close, would I.”

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“Where,” the man ignored the jibe.

A flip of the muzzle. “One over there to the east, one an equal distance to the west. Two more south and north.”

“Have you been around the camp?”

“No. I watched them posted from here. I had no way of knowing when you’d arrive, and I didn’t want you riding into a soldier’s camp unawares.”

Storm wanted to be really insulted, but couldn’t dredge up the emotion, since he’d been about to do just that. “Well I’m here now. Tell Sandahl where the others are and let’s you and I have us a little walk, eh?”

“That look like twenty-five sets of human footprints to you?” Storm whispered.

Koli had his nose in the dirt, snuffling out the identity of the track layer. His eyes were confused when he raised them to regard the man. “I’ve no idea what made these,” he admitted. “I’ve never seen the like, nor have I ever before encountered this scent. One thing I can tell you: it reeks of magic.”

Storm only nodded. “Is there any other water around?”

“That we can reach in time for it to be of any use? I’m afraid not.”

Storm sat back in the tall grass, arms on his knees. This smelled all over of an interdiction party. The events of this afternoon would tell this king, if he was watching, that he, Storm, was in the area. So what would he do? The strategy was old as deserts and dry land. Sit on the water. On all the water, if you had the troops. Your enemy’s only opportunities then became attack against superior numbers or death by dehydration. these guys would probably be sitting at this water for the foreseeable future.

“What do you want to do?” he asked the wolf.

“What is there to do?” Koli wondered. “We need the water, but we cannot fight them for it. We can only lessen the number of bellies to fill with what water we have and turn back for the forest.”

“How many troops does this king have?” Storm ran his hand along the edge of the large, splay-footed track. Farther from the camp, they’d found where the horse tracks had begun, deep-set into the turf, like the animals had been dropped from the sky. Further on, they’d found where several of the soldiers had dug a large cart of some sort out of a shallow pit and dragged it toward the spring.

“Shelador?” Koli affected surprise. “Of Turalee? Ruler of this, commander of that, lord protector of some other things? Tens of thousands by this time I should imagine.”

Storm had moved to the next pair of tracks and was gauging the distance between the hops. “What makes you think there won’t be twenty-five more at the next water.”

Koli lowered his head, not liking the implications. “Will they lay siege to the station, do you think?”

Storm shook his head. “Doubt it. At this point, I’m fairly certain they know I’m not there. Moving troops in would probably be more costly than it would be worth.”

“I hope you’re correct,” the wolf breathed, adding silent prayer to Dossa the Changeling for his daughter’s safety. “So what course is left us?”

“Working on it. Could you tell if they had a wizard with them?”

“Not that I could see,” the wolf told him. “But some of the military mages wear the uniform to avoid being picked out of a crowd and made a target of opportunity. Not seeing one doesn’t necessarily mean they haven’t got one with them.”

Storm was looking skyward now, natural eye squinted closed, scanning the darkness with his mechanical eye, cycling between infrared and light gathering modes, magnification turned to full. Whatever had landed here had been huge. Huge enough to carry twenty-seven men, two horses, and a cart. Unless this Shelador had developed suborbital shuttles with lizard feet, there was only one thing from the old stories he was looking for. But the skies were empty of all but clouds and a few night birds.

He was probably safe. Law of averages, right? How many wizards and how many dragons could this character have just sitting around waiting for one lost marine to wander by? Except that this was the nearest water to the location of Joblar’s rescue. Koli had assured him that the magic had come, so the watchers, assuming there were watchers, would have known about where he was.

“You have dragons here, Koli?”

The wolf cringed, a small whine escaping his lips before he could stifle it. His eyes flew involuntarily skyward, scanning. “Not here, here,” he growled. “But dragons do roam the second world. No longer, thank the gods, in any great number or with any great frequency. I’ve never encountered one.”

Storm pointed to the tracks. “I think you may have now.”

Koli reexamined the tracks. “How is it you know of dragons in any case?”

A shrug. “How is it I know any of this? The stories get passed down.”

“How big is it?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know for sure it was a dragon,” the man admitted. And I certainly don’t know how to gauge a dragon’s size from tracks. But figuring that it was big enough to carry that whole mess over there through the air, bigger than I want to wrangle with. I’ve yet to see a single tale where even a small dragon wasn’t like going up against an army, and this thing must be huge even for the breed.”

He left off his perusal of the skies. “In any case, I can’t see anything.”

“That’s very comforting,” the wolf smarmed. “I’ll try to remember that as I’m being digested.”

Storm ignored him, racking his brain for a way to get clear of this without a fight. None came immediately to mind. “I can try to creep the spring, but I’m not happy about my chances of getting away with it. Besides, even if I make it, there isn’t any way I’m going to carry out enough water for the three of us and all the horses.”

Koli was still scanning the skies for the dragon. “Which leaves?”

“We pool all our water and give it to Sandahl. I leave him out in the dark and walk in like a pilgrim. I spot the mean ol’ sodjers just a few paces too late, let out a girlish scream, and run like hell for the east.”

Koli left off his sky search to regard the man in disbelief. “What?”

“Maybe I can draw them away from the spring. If they see me afoot, they might think they can chase me down. All I have to do is make it to Sandahl and there ain’t no way they’ll ever get near me.”

“Did one of those horses kick you in the head after we’d left you?” the wolf demanded. “Has it escaped your attention that there are two horses in that camp as well as the foot soldiers?”

Storm smiled grimly at the angry wolf. “Unsaddled horses. I’m guessing from what I’ve seen of them that the king’s men don’t do much bareback riding.”

“Think you Turalee has conquered half the known world in only a score of years with second-rate soldiery?” the wolf hissed. “You’ve encountered guardsmen and slave herders; what makes you think you’ve even seen a soldier?.”

Storm rocked back on his haunches, and when he answered, his voice had changed, going flatter than Koli had ever heard it. “Look closely at my face, wolf,” the man grated. “The steel is there for a reason. It takes the place of a good chunk of my face and some skull that boiled away.

"Two hundred of us crawled down a hole one night, see? Twelve and some spare parts crawled out three days later. We left bits and pieces of our own scattered for sixty klicks of tunnel, and three of theirs for every one of ours. Command considered it a fair trade. Sixteen days later, we went down another hole, and they were waiting for us there too. I’ve seen a soldier, wolf.”

Koli’s eyes were squinted and his ears laid back at the venom that had appeared in the man’s voice. But he didn’t feel the cold. The force of the words was that of emotion, no more. “Those soldiers you knew are not these soldiers here,” he allowed. “But do not take these lightly for that.”

Storm was rubbing his face, as though to scrub away the flash of hot anger. “I”m not likely to take twenty-five heavy infantry lightly whether their officers ride bareback or not,” he told his lupine companion. “I merely voiced an opinion that infantry officers would be more likely to view the back of a horse as the thing that goes under the saddle than as a fighting perch.”

Somewhat mollified, but still on edge, the wolf turned his gaze toward the camp. “Be that as it may, how can you know that they will even pursue?”

Storm looked back toward the camp and the tiny glow of the fire. “Because they have no choice. They’ve got orders.”

“How can you—?”

Storm turned from the camp, regarding the wolf levelly. “They aren’t there to pick raspberries. And they aren’t there to capture me. Not on foot, they’re not.”

Koli’s ears shot forward. “A murder party?”

Storm was watching the camp again. “Only thing that makes sense.” He turned again and the grim smile was back. “Hey, I never thought they were there to sell me petrosynth siding on the easy payment plan. Now go get Sandahl while I finish here.”

The wolf faded into the darkness without answer, and Storm nodded to himself. The trader was good people, despite his enormous ego and prickly demeanor. He’d think about apologizing for his little outburst when the wolf returned. He might not do it, but he’d think about it.

Just to be fussy, he moved away from the camp, looking for any more tracks. There were none. The party had arrived on something with great big lizard feet within the past six hours, and hadn’t moved. No patrols, no sweeps. They hadn’t even dug a privy pit outside the small circle of lusher grass and trees surrounding the spring.