Rudiger needed to find Zandrue. If she was still alive. He also needed to find Jorvan. And Borisin. “Where do I start?” he asked Lucinda, but the horse ignored him. Jorvan wouldn’t know anything had happened and would head for the Flying Fish once he was finished looking around. Rudiger needed to get to him before he did that. Zandrue and Borisin would know to stay out of sight, so he had to trust them to themselves for now. Luckily, he figured it wouldn’t be too difficult to find an Isyar in a town full of humans. Look for the crowds, he thought. Nobody here was likely to have ever seen an Isyar before. There would be people flocking around him.

Sure enough, he found Jorvan surrounded by a throng of onlookers of all sizes and ages. Grown men and women lifted children on their backs so that the youngsters could see the Isyar over the crowd. Other people pushed and shoved to get to the front for a chance to see, and maybe even touch him.

“I saw an Isyar once before,” an elderly man boasted. “I was just a young’un then. He came down from the sky and hovered over me and my friends and poured a magical blessing on us. He promised us a long and fulfilling life. And that’s why I’m still alive today when most people in my generation are long gone.” Rudiger chuckled, shaking his head. He was pretty certain Isyar were not capable of hovering.

Other people cried out to Jorvan, asking him to bless them and their families. Beseeching him to give them a good harvest for the year. Calling upon him to protect them from goblins and other monsters. One word that Rudiger heard frequently was angel. Rudiger had never really thought about it before, but it was true that Isyar looked a lot like angels. They were like humans with wings, which was really all that angels were. Although every picture of angels Rudiger had ever seen always depicted them with feathered wings, and an Isyar’s wings weren’t. Other than that though...

The look on Jorvan’s face when Rudiger finally pushed through the crowds to him was utterly flabbergasted. He tried to smile at the people and speak politely to them as he led his nervous horse slowly forward. It was very clear that he was not at all comfortable with the people clutching at him. His eyes met Rudiger’s with a pleading look. Rudiger had no idea what to do. Then an idea hit him.

“All right!” he cried as loud as he could. He couldn’t get loud enough to be heard over the whole crowd, but those nearby could hear. “That’s enough for today! The Isyar can only handle so many requests at once. You need to give him some space to fulfil them! He’ll be back again tomorrow to listen to further pleas!”

A few people actually listened. However, the majority kept pushing to get at Jorvan. “I must see him!” someone cried. “I must touch him!” another cried. “He must heal my child!” from yet another.

“Enough!” Rudiger screamed. “I am the Isyar’s watcher! Let him pass! He will hear more of you tomorrow!” He sighed. It wasn’t working.

Just then, Jorvan spread his wings, accidentally batting a few people in the process. Luckily, those hit seemed to think it some sort of blessing. Jorvan began to move his hands about in a circular pattern, and a funnel of air began to swirl around him, drawing awed gasps from the crowd as Jorvan rose a couple feet into the air and floated there.

Okay, so maybe Isyar could hover.

Jorvan said something, but his voice was too soft to be heard.

“Quiet!” Rudiger cried. “The Isyar speaks!”

Remarkably, people listened. The people nearest scolded those behind to be quiet, and the effect cascaded out. Within moments, the street was silent.

“I hear you,” Jorvan said. “I ask you listen to my...watcher and wait for...for...I return tomorrow.”

It was clear that not everyone could hear him, so Rudiger repeated what he’d said. There was a lot of reluctance among people to actually go, but slowly the crowd began to part and let him pass.

Jorvan floated back to the ground and the funnel of air dissipated as he ceased the movements of his arms. “Thank you.” His face was covered in sweat, and Rudiger noticed that his thin gown was also soaked right through. “People often look at me, but not like this.”

“Isyar are like angels in these parts,” Rudiger said. “People get you mixed up with them.”

“Thank you again,” Jorvan said. “I do not return tomorrow, right?”

“No, of course not!” Rudiger replied. “I mean, unless you want to.”

Jorvan shook his head.

They began walking through the streets. People still watched Jorvan as he passed, but most kept their distance, and the few who didn’t were admonished by others nearby who had already heard the story. News spread fast, apparently.

“I didn’t know you could hover,” Rudiger said as they walked.

“I cannot,” Jorvan replied. “I used magic to make air lift me.”

Explained the funnel of air.

“Are you okay?” Rudiger asked. “You’re sweating a lot.” He hadn’t thought about how the warmer weather here might affect Jorvan. He knew Isyar liked cold weather—while they had crossed northern Arnor during the winter, Jorvan had never worn anything heavier than the thin gown he was wearing now—but it hadn’t occurred to him they might not take well to heat.

“I will be fine at the ship,” Jorvan replied. “It is cooler.”

Rudiger groaned. “We can’t, I’m afraid. The ship’s gone.”

“It left? Why?”

Rudiger shook his head. “No, someone blew it up. Zandrue and I were ambushed on the pier. Don’t know what happened to her. Worse, there are Red Knights here, too, and they want me arrested. I had to make a run for it, past city watchmen as well. Which, of course, means that the city watch will want me soon. We can’t stick around here.”

Jorvan nodded. “Where do we go?”

Rudiger shrugged. “Don’t know. We can take the road south of here a short distance and wait there. Borisin will be able to find us, and I’m sure Zandrue will find us, too. If she’s alive, that is.”

“I am sure she is,” Jorvan said. “She is...resourceful.”

Rudiger just nodded. He really hoped Zandrue was alive. He had no clue what he would do if it turned out otherwise. She’d become too much a part of his life to die on him now. If she was alive, it was time he got over his fear of intimacy with her, though. Death was likely to keep following them around. Any of them could die at any time. He shouldn’t be afraid to be close before that happened.

They found her a mile south of the city, standing with Borisin on the beach. Rudiger let go of Lucinda’s reins, ran up to her, picked her up, and spun her around. Then he kissed her. There was salt on her lips, but he didn’t care. She was alive! He soaked in the warmth of her, the softness of her skin.

“We should get separated more often,” Zandrue said when their mouths finally parted. “I could grow to like this.” She kissed him again.

Borisin’s snout pushed up against the sides of their heads. All right, break it up.

In his excitement at seeing Zandrue, Rudiger had forgotten about Borisin.

Doesn’t surprise me, either, the horse said. After all, I only saved your life. Why should you be happy to see me?

Zandrue slipped out of his arms with a sigh. “Sorry, but I’m not into threesomes with horses.”

Borisin snorted. That’s just gross.

“I am happy you live, Zandrue,” Jorvan said. “Rudiger told me what happened.”

“They blew up the ship,” Rudiger told her.

She nodded. “I heard. Literally, I heard it go.”

“I was worried maybe you were on board.”

She smiled. “No, I was in the water at the time. I heard your warning, but didn’t have much time to react. I think I got the first mate, but then they threw me in the water. I swam under the pier and then to shore. With the tide out, it wasn’t too far. Tell me everything else that happened afterwards.”

So Rudiger told her of his own brush with drowning, of the unbelievably fast man, of the watch and the Red Knights, and of his own escape from them. When he was done, there was a worried look on Zandrue’s face. “Well, at least the two of you came south from the city and didn’t go north.”

“What would have happened if we’d gone north?” Rudiger asked.

“You wouldn’t have found me,” Zandrue replied with a grin. “Sure, I’d have found you eventually, but we need to go south, not north.”

“You’re suggesting we travel overland?” Rudiger asked.

Zandrue nodded. “Just as far as Bever and catch another ship from there. It’ll take a little longer, but we made such good time from Arnor City that a couple days of overland travel won’t really affect us that much.” She took hold of Lucinda’s reins and patted the mare’s nose.

“Most of our supplies were on the ship,” Rudiger said.

“Gone now,” Zandrue said. “I’ve still got a few things in my pack. We should be able to make due until Bever where we can pick up some more. We can’t risk going back into Cilling though. In fact, we’d better get going now, before they catch up to us.” She mounted Lucinda, and waited for Rudiger and Jorvan to do the same with their horses. Then they were off.

“How did they know we were here?” Rudiger asked as they rode.

Zandrue groaned. “I shouldn’t have let those Darkers go.”

Rudiger shrugged. “They weren’t the only ones that got away that night. You think they had something to do with this?”

“Maybe, but as I think about it, I doubt it. They would have to get a message ahead of us very fast. Considering how good a time we made from Arnor City, that seems unlikely. On top of that, why Cilling? Sure, it’s a common stop-over port, but there was no guarantee that we would be on a ship that stops here. They would be more likely to send word to Lockanith or Ninifin. Plus, the way you described things on the pier, Rudiger, it sounds like it was a hastily planned ambush.”

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“You figured that out just from my description?”

“I think I understand,” Jorvan said. “Why did they push you when you could...go on the ship and...” He stumbled over his words.

“Why did they attack us when they could have just let us die on the ship?” Zandrue completed for him. “It’s like they didn’t know each other’s plans.”

Jorvan nodded.

Rudiger grimaced. “You mean we have multiple groups of enemies after us?”

“Let’s see,” Zandrue said. “Darkers, Volgs, Red Knights, maybe even separate factions within each of those groups. I’d call that multiple groups. What did you expect?”

“I was kind of hoping they were all just part of one large group working together.”

“That would be frightening,” Zandrue said. “Frankly, I’d much prefer to go on the assumption that they’re not. They’ll be less organised that way. Still, we mustn’t take anything for granted.” She smiled at him. “With a little luck, maybe we’ll learn something in Lockanith.”

They rode long that day and the next couple, passing through a few small villages along the way, but not stopping until the second day to get as far from Cilling as possible. Rudiger kept a constant watch behind them for signs of anyone following. The farther they got, the less likely anyone would catch them, but he couldn’t help thinking of the man with the drooping eye. He must have been a wizard of some sort to be able to move so fast. With his speed, he might actually be able to catch up to them. Rudiger also took first watch each night after they’d set up camp, and again, he focused most of his attention on the road to the north—although he didn’t totally ignore the other directions, even up. But nothing came at them during the night.

The third morning dawned hot and humid. Although it cooled somewhat each night, as soon as the sun was back in the sky, the temperature rose rapidly. By mid-morning, it was like the height of summer in Fisvin. Even Rudiger found it uncomfortable—especially in his armour—but Jorvan was far worse off. He slumped in his saddle, completely drenched—not from sweat, but from the miniature rain cloud that followed him along just above his head, showering him with water. His horse was quite unimpressed by the cloud’s presence, but try as the young mare might, she couldn’t get away from it. Jorvan kept her under control for the first while, but gradually began to be oblivious to her wanderings. Eventually, Zandrue had to take the reins from the exhausted Isyar. As the day passed, the rain from his cloud got lighter, and the cloud itself began to dissipate. Jorvan had been making small motions with his fingers, and those motions were getting slower and less pronounced.

Rudiger wiped sweat from his forehead as they travelled the last stretch towards Bever. To their left lay long stretches of farmland and orchards. To their right was the beach and the long expanse of ocean. Up ahead, there was a group of people on the road, the first other travellers they had seen in a few hours. It had been nice having the road to themselves for a little while. Previous travellers they had passed on the road had all reacted to Jorvan and his rain cloud, most in awe, some in fear. Either reaction, however, resulted in no peace for Jorvan.

“How are you doing?” Rudiger asked.

The Isyar looked weakly over at him and forced a smile. “Good.”

“More people coming. You can bet they’ve never seen an Isyar before either.”

Jorvan nodded. “I will be fine.”

“We need to get him in, out of the sun,” Zandrue said. “Damn those Darkers!”

The group on the road was surprisingly large. There had to be twenty to thirty of them. Groups that size generally only occurred with caravans or military patrols, but there was no sign of any vehicles or draft animals. Not a caravan then, and they wore no tabards nor carried any banners to identify them as soldiers. They could be pilgrims, although Rudiger was unaware of anything in this region worth going on a pilgrimage to. To be fair, he didn’t know the region well.

Zandrue was watching the group intently as well.

“Big group,” Rudiger commented.

“Yeah,” Zandrue replied. “It’s probably nothing. We’re just jumpy after events in Cilling. Still, keep alert.”

Rudiger nodded. “What do you think, Borisin?”

I’m not sure.

“What happened to your infallible sense of smell?” Rudiger joked. “You know, smelling shifty and all.”

They’re not close enough yet, the stallion replied. Besides, I never claimed it was infallible.

Rudiger rolled his eyes.

The group was a mixture of copper-skinned Eloorin and tanned Foliths. All men, as best as Rudiger could tell. Most carried a sack or two. A few held pitchforks. Maybe they were just farmers.

“Thirty-three of them,” Zandrue said. “Strength in numbers, I suppose.”

Something’s not right, Borisin said.

“Something’s not right,” Rudiger repeated out loud.

Zandrue shrugged. “Like I said, it’s probably nothing. Move off the road anyway to let them pass. We don’t want them surrounding us.”

Shifty’s here, Borisin said.

“What?” Rudiger said. Near the front of the group was a broad Eloorin with stringy hair and a drooping eye. “I don’t believe it. How the hell did he get ahead of us? No, never mind. Stupid question.” He called out to Jorvan and Zandrue, “It’s a trap!”

The people in the group opened their sacks and pulled out clubs and maces, even a few swords. The droopy-eyed man was gone in a flash. There was a blur of motion to Rudiger’s right and Jorvan’s horse reared, her reins pulling out of Zandrue’s grasp. The stunned Isyar tried to calm the horse, but his saddle slipped from beneath him and he tumbled to the ground. There was a gash on the mare’s side where the saddle’s straps had been cut.

The mob began to charge, waving their weapons above them. Rudiger let go of his reins and drew Slay. Borisin was already moving. It quickly became apparent that they were all untrained rabble. Most broke their charge and ran the moment they saw the huge roan horse galloping at them. The few who didn’t offered very little resistance. Even with the limits using Slay on horseback caused—he didn’t want to accidentally cut off his horse’s head—they were no match for him. They quickly fell to Slay or Borisin’s hooves.

“That was easy for a change,” Rudiger said.

Zandrue yelled and Borisin spun around. Zandrue had dismounted and was wielding her sword, glancing in every direction. A blur sped past her and she cried out again, dropping the sword. Rudiger could see blood dripping from her hand.

There was no need to give any indication to Borisin. The stallion was already on his way back, stopping right beside Zandrue, who picked up her sword. Rudiger looked about, trying to pinpoint where the droopy-eyed man had gone. He caught a brief glimpse of him farther up the road before the man became a blur and behind Zandrue again. His dagger sliced across her back. With a yell, she threw herself forward. As soon as she was out of the way, Rudiger swung. A moment later, the man was gone again, but the tip of Slay was red with blood.

“We have to get him,” Zandrue said. “As long as he’s alive, he’ll keep getting ahead of us to set up more ambushes.”

“He’s injured,” Rudiger said. “Maybe that will slow him down.” He dismounted, keeping an eye out in case the man came in for another attack. He moved so that he was standing over Zandrue.

“Don’t count on it,” she said.

“There can’t be that many Darkers. Surely their numbers will run out eventually.”

Zandrue shook her head, groaned and pulled herself to her feet. “He doesn’t need Darkers. All he needs are people willing to do anything for a bit of money. The only thing working to our advantage is that he doesn’t have the time to be picky about who he gets.” She touched her back and winced. Her hand came away red with blood.

“You going to be okay?” Rudiger asked.

She nodded. “I’ll live, but I need to get the wound cleaned. Check on Jorvan, then come give me a hand. The problem with back wounds is they’re a bitch to reach.”

“You think he’s gone then?”

“He would have been back at us by now,” Zandrue replied. “You wounded him. Depending just how badly, he might have to hold off for a while to get it taken care of. With a little luck, maybe it was a mortal wound. Now, go check on Jorvan.”

“Right,” Rudiger said.

He found Jorvan face down in the dirt, apparently fast asleep. His horse was grazing just off the side of the road, free from the rain cloud, which had vanished. “I will be okay,” Jorvan said as Rudiger reached down to help him.

Rudiger stepped back. “I thought you were out cold.”

“I think I was,” Jorvan replied. “Is everyone all right?”

“More or less,” Rudiger said.

“I am sorry I did not help,” Jorvan continued. “I am not at my best in heat.”

“No apology necessary.”

Zandrue had started preparing a fire when they reached her, but a lack of good material was causing her difficulty. She had removed her tunic; her undershirt was drenched in blood. “Jorvan, get this fire going for me. We don’t have any alcohol, so we need to boil some water to sterilise the wound.” She tried to stand up, but nearly fell over. Rudiger caught her.

“You’re really hurt. You should have said something.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said with a grin, which quickly turned to a grimace. “Just as long as we’re quick. The wound must be deeper than I thought. I’m losing a lot of blood.”

Jorvan handed Rudiger a pair of rocks. “I need a spark. There.” He pointed to where Zandrue had been attempting to start a fire.

Rudiger knelt beside the spot and began slapping the rocks against each other. He stopped when he a small spark didn’t vanish. He dropped the rocks into the small pile of kindling Zandrue had gathered.

Jorvan was making gentle motions with one hand, repeatedly pulling in and then letting go. Each time he pulled in, the fire grew a little larger. Once it was the size of a campfire, Jorvan stopped his hand movements. The fire’s small amount of fuel had already burned away, and it now seemed to be burning the ground itself, which was blackening.

“I need you to stitch the wound,” Zandrue told Rudiger.

Rudiger looked at her wide-eyed. “With what? We don’t have anything!” Even if they’d had something, he wasn’t certain he would be any good at it. His big hands weren’t well-suited for such delicate movements.

“Please.” She was sounding very weak now.

The seriousness of the situation became apparent to him. She could be dying, and he was just standing there holding her. Rudiger sprang to action. He tore her shirt off and tossed the now-useless rag aside. Her back was covered with blood, and the wound was very apparent. A long, deep cut ran from just beneath one shoulder blade to the other.

“The water is ready,” Jorvan said.

It barely occurred to Rudiger how fast Jorvan had prepared the water; he didn’t really care. He grabbed the pot from Jorvan, saying, “Something for her to bite down on!” Jorvan looked about them, and soon found a stick, which he stuffed in Zandrue’s mouth. Rudiger then poured the scalding water over her back.

The scream which emerged from Zandrue’s throat was loud, guttural, and unnerving. A sound no one ought to have been able to make. Then she passed out.

“I need to stitch the wound,” Rudiger told Jorvan. “Do you have anything? Check Zandrue’s pack. Look around. There’s got to be something. We can’t let her die. Not now. If only we hadn’t lost most of our stuff on the ship. Maybe there’s something in one of these fields, or down by the beach, or maybe along the road. Check the bodies of the attackers, maybe they have something in those packs and stuff they were carrying or threads from their clothes or maybe—”

Jorvan put a hand on his arm. “Wrap cloth around her for now. I will find something, then I will stitch her wound. You are too...upset.”

Rudiger nodded meekly. While Jorvan wandered in search of something to use, Rudiger turned to Borisin, who had wandered up at some point, and looked through his pack. He pulled out a shirt and wrapped it tightly around Zandrue. Then he waited, holding her against him all the while. Eventually, Jorvan returned and took Zandrue from him. Rudiger stood beside Borisin and waited some more.

Rudiger had no idea what Jorvan had found to use, but soon the Isyar announced that he had finished. “I think she will be fine,” Jorvan said, and slumped over. Rudiger had to catch him.

“You all right?”

“Just the heat,” Jorvan replied.

“Heat, right,” Rudiger said. “The fire!”

“I put it out already,” Jorvan responded.

“Oh, good. I guess we all need some rest. Can’t stay here though. We need to find somewhere a bit more secure.”

Rudiger walked over to where Jorvan had laid Zandrue. She was on her stomach, and the wound was clearly visible. The stitches were made from thin strands of rope, probably taken from their attackers’ sacks. Jorvan had only made a few—he probably hadn’t had much to work with—but it was enough to hold the skin together long enough for it to heal itself.

Rudiger bent down, slipped his hands under her and gently rolled her over into his arms, then picked her up. Fast asleep, she looked strangely contented, and despite the dirt on her face and chest, still beautiful. Rudiger blushed when he realised he was staring at her bare breasts. A longing for her was definitely building in him. No. Not now, he told himself.

Jorvan had taken a tunic from one of their attackers. He and Rudiger put it on Zandrue and then carried her over to Lucinda. She was beginning to stir, and together, they helped her into the saddle and made certain she was secure.

“We cannot go to the city,” Jorvan said. “That is where they will expect us to go.”

“Not right away, at any rate,” Zandrue said with a groan.

“What about our speedy friend?” Rudiger asked. “We need to deal with him. As long as he’s alive, he can keep dogging us.”

“We don’t have the means to chase him,” Zandrue said. “We need time to recover.”

“You say we,” Rudiger said. “What about Jorvan? You’ll recover, but the heat isn’t going away.”

“I will be fine,” Jorvan said, though the sweat dripping down his face made Rudiger doubt that.

“Let’s just head east,” Zandrue said. “We’ll put some space between us and the city, and figure out what to do tomorrow.”

Rudiger nodded and helped Jorvan onto his horse. Then he mounted Borisin, and they were off.