“Hey! No one said not to take it!”
The big man glowered. “I despair about you.”
“Hey, we’re partners.” Escalla passed the man a large sliceof tart. “Now eat up, and keep your eyes open.”
Dawn stole across the castle yard. In the stables, Polk could be heard loudly advising a priest on how to say his morning prayers. A tall man armored in silver plate came out of the castle to stand beside an archer and a sorcerer, who were loitering around the stables. Watching the gathering of their new allies, both Jus and Escalla laid aside their meal and shared identical thoughts.
Jus settled his sword and said, “I’ll watch your back.”
“Same back at you.” The girl flicked her wings and driftedoff the ground. “Are we ready?”
“We’re ready.”
The faerie heaved a sigh, headed out into the dawn, and said, “All right. Well, we’re on the road to fame and glory.”
“You see, son,
Marching grimly beside the lead wagon, the Justicar gritted his teeth and tried to ignore Polk’s constant monologue. Cinders failed to helpmatters. The hell hound kept his ears pricked up and his tail wagging, perfectly happy with the sights and smells of the road.
Sitting above his companions and behaving like a lord of creation, Polk took a drag from a stone jug full of whiskey. On the wagons behind him were arrayed two priests with their tents, baggage, portable altars, and relics; a lordly paladin encased in solid silver armor; and a close-mouthed pair of men from the baron’s garrison. Three large wagons were rumbling along aruined, broken roadway behind them, each carrying enough supplies to see an army through a thirty years’ war.
Even this close to Trigol, the land still showed ghosts of battle. The skeletal shapes of farmhouses and villages jutted through the weeds, and wild grasses still followed the boundaries of long-forgotten fields. Only the bones were missing. The slaughtered had found no rest. Even now, their corpses toiled in the armies of Iuz, preparing for yet another war. Wind moaned through the wild oats beside a broken well.
Oblivious to the grim surroundings, Polk dragged in a breath of fresh morning air and gave a happy sigh. “Image, son! A hero has to haveimage.” Polk corked his jug. “A clear-cut presence! A blazing eye! You ask thefaerie, she’ll back me!”
The faerie in question was lounging on the back of one of the great, hairy cart horses. No one could ever accuse Escalla of having a lack of personality. She reclined on her back eating wild strawberries taken from the fields, her toes wriggling happily inside her boots as she enjoyed the day. She rolled to watch Jus and gave the man a knowing smile.
“Hey, Jus! Bearing up?”
“The wagons are too slow.” Jus seethed with annoyance atbeing made to cater to so much useless baggage. “Tomorrow we start to lose theroads.”
“Yeah, well, enjoy it while we can.” Escalla dippedstrawberries in a little bowl of sugar crystals. “The muckity-mucks aren’t goingto give up their beds and bangles until they have to.”
The two priests kept to their own wagons-watching oneanother, watching the road, and trying to prevent each other from speaking to the other party members. The baron’s sorcerer carefully spied on the archer, andthe archer kept a cold watch over the paladin. A whole day of march had passed without introductions, without chatter. Polk and Escalla filled the vacuum with a will. Casting an appraising gaze over her fellow travelers, Escalla sat up and hunted for the last few sugar crystals in her bowl.
“Well, this crew is just a laugh an hour!” Escalla tossed astrawberry up to Polk, who gave her a salute. “Polk’s really hoopy, though!Where did you find him?”
Jus felt himself bristling like an angry hound. “I didn’t.There’s just no getting rid of him.”
With his head up in the sun and his tail trailing in the breeze, Cinders gave a dry, sniggering little laugh.
Jus gave an irritated sigh then looked back along the caravan. Three full wagons-tons of supplies-and none of it could possibly betaken into the wilds. He felt a delicious surge of malice as he anticipated a future full of wails and cries.
Escalla flew up from her perch on the cart horse, whirring between the big animal’s ears. She looped up and hovered, staring back along theline of wagons. Jus joined her, standing to watch the heavy vehicles rock and rumble slowly past them.
The Geshtai had sent a priestess on the expedition-a fat,powerful woman with cold eyes and a wealth of chins. Beneath her fish-patterned robes, bangles, and vestments of the river god, there came the gleam of metal armor, weapons, and charms. The big priestess sat in a nest of cushions and religious paraphernalia, spending her entire day keeping the Bleredd priest under surveillance.
Small, sharp-featured, and strangely weasel-like, the Bleredd priest wove subtle little spells to spy upon his rival-spells instantlycountered by the Geshtai. The contest had kept them occupied in deadly earnest ever since the journey began at dawn.
Escalla gave a shiver, as though casting off the evil eye. “Lovely bunch we have here.”
“Skilled killers.” Jus shrugged his backpack into a betterposition. “The two priests are field agents. The Geshtai is a slaver, and theBleredd priest is from Urnst-not a refugee from Tenh.” The Justicar watchedEscalla slyly appraising the other party members as they rolled by. “Oursorcerer is an ice mage. The paladin is called Olthwaite. The archer is Hanin. We were supposed to have an archer named Barkis, but he was stabbed in a tavern about an hour after he was assigned to us.”
“Wow!” Escalla hovered in midair, her little fists planted onher hips a she surveyed the wagon train. “These guys haven’t spoken to us allday. How did you pick all that up?”
“I talked to the barons men.” Jus gave a righteous sniff.“What did you think I was doing all last night?”
“I dunno. Ranger stuff?” Escalla shrugged, honestly confused.“Hey, man, I got my beauty sleep.
With the wagons finally passed, Jus walked into the pitted dirt roadway and crossed into the abandoned fields. He climbed up an overgrown apple tree, looked out across the wild hedges, and scanned for movement in the ruins of a farmhouse nearby. He let Cinders sniff the breeze, then tugged a trio of ripe apples from the bough. One he polished and tossed to Escalla, one he ate for himself, and the third he stuffed between Cinders’ jaws. The hellhoundgrinned his mad grin, looking a little like a suckling pig as the apple gleamed between his teeth.
Jus looked at Escalla and gave a little shrug. “He likesthem.”
The ranger crunched his apple and slid to the ground. Escalla joined him, puzzling over how to eat the apple, which was far too large for her to sink her teeth into.
“So, Jus, you think the archer guy is a spy?”
“I think they’re all spies.” Jus glared at the departingwagons. “They’re each on their own side, not ours.”
“So should I do something?” Escalla passed Jus her apple. Hescored the fruit with his nails and split it in two.
“I could fireball them all.”
The Justicar thought about the options, then heaved an irritated sigh and walked on in the wake of the wagons.
“No. The baron’s been useful. We’d just be pushing Trigolcloser to civil war. We’ll leave them alone… for now.”
Escalla cocked a sly eye at the Justicar. “Even Polk?”
