Tang was staring at the scale through which he intended to drive his halberd, so he did not see Cypress's wing sweeping toward him on the backswing. He simply heard an earsplitting thump, then found himself sailing over the toppled tree trunk with his gold-trimmed helmet flying in one direction and his weapon in another. He splashed into the warm water, sank to the bottom, and nearly got tangled in a bed of fish skeletons before he recovered his wits and kicked free.
His head ringing and his body aching. Tang broke the surface and peered over the log. The bog scum had erupted into a pink-tinged froth, with the dragon stand- ing waist-deep in blood and shark skeletons, battering his foes with wings and tail and calmly tearing their bod- ies apart with gore-dripping talons. The prince's warriors could do little to defend themselves. The legs of most were hopelessly tangled among the fish bones, and the rest could barely hold their chins above the water, much less swing their heavy blades powerfully enough to pierce
Cypress's thick scales.
The voice inside Tang's head shrieked through the lasal haze, reminding him that he was a Shou prince and should have fled long ago. He managed to ignore it for a short time, but when the alligators appeared at the fringe of the battle and began to drag away the wounded, the voice began to sound wise. Tang pushed away from the log and, moving very slowly to avoid attracting alli- gators, he slipped beneath the surface and swam toward the mountain.
Twelve
A sliver of pearly light split the mid- night gloom between the gate towers, and Ruha realized the guards of Moon- storm House were opening the gates for her. She lashed her mount with the ends other reins, urging the exhausted Shou prancer into the ragged sem- blance of a gallop. The two packhorses behind her snorted in protest, but had little trouble adjusting to the new pace. They were both larger than the witch's mount and, loaded with four sacks of ylang blossoms each, far less heavily burdened.
From behind Ruha came the clatter of firing cross- bows, followed instantly by the ringing echoes of iron bolts skipping across cobblestones. One of the packhorses screamed, and the witch's prancer stumbled as the train slowed. She twisted around and saw the last beast hob- bling badly. Like the animal ahead of it, its chest was covered in lather, and its eyes were bulging with fear and exhaustion.
Thirty paces down the deserted street, two dozen of Hsieh's guards lashed their mounts madly, making a last desperate effort to catch Ruha. As planned, they were closing the distance and doing everything possible to make it appear they truly wanted to succeed. The lead rider accepted a loaded crossbow from the man at his flank, then raised the weapon and fired. A dark streak flashed between him and the hobbling horse. The beast screeched and would have fallen had the other animals not dragged it along, stumbling and staggering.
Cursing her pursuers for heartless killers, Ruha blew a sharp breath in their direction and uttered a simple wind spell. A howling gust tore down the street, blasting the first three riders half out of their saddles. As they struggled to regain their balance, they were overtaken by the galloping throng at their backs; two more soldiers raised their crossbows. Hsieh had commanded his men to make a convincing show of the chase, and Shou were nothing if not obedient.
A chorus of strumming bowstrings sounded from atop the gate towers. The leading Shou riders sprouted arrows in their chests and fell from their wooden saddles. The rest of Hsieh's men whipped their reins around, guiding their horses into a sheltering alleyway.
Ruha's prancer clattered through the dark gateway of Moonstorm House into a spacious, hexagonal courtyard of ornamental trees and twining garden pathways. The witch reined in her mount, bringing the entire train to a halt and drawing a relieved nicker from the wounded packhorse. The enormous garden was enclosed by a milky wall, with slender, cone-roofed towers standing at each of the six corners. The castle had no central keep, nor, as far as the witch could tell, any sort of inner defensework at all.
Despite the excitement of the phony chase, Ruha found herself completely and utterly exhausted by the long ride from the Ginger Palace. This was her second night with- out sleep. She kept yawning behind her veil, and her eyes were burning with the need to close. She braced her hands on her saddle pommel and fought to clear her head; she could not allow herself to even think of resting, not until she had laid her trap.
Captain Fowler rushed from a gate tower's narrow doorway, followed closely by Vaerana Hawklyn, Tombor the Jolly, and Pierstar Hallowhand. Though the hour was well past midnight, they were still dressed in jerkins, tunics, and trousers. They had, no doubt, been up plan- ning tomorrow's assault on the Ginger Palace.
Fowler stopped beside Ruha and took her mount's foam-covered reins. 'Are you well, Witch?' The half-ore scowled at the lather on his hand, then wiped it on his pants. 'And what have you done to this poor beast?'
'Galloped him all the way from the Ginger Palace, by the looks of it,' said Vaerana, joining them. She turned to Pierstar. 'You'd better have someone rouse John the far- rier and his boys. These horses need some attention.'
Pierstar stopped beside the wounded beast and winced at the two bolts lodged in its rump, then turned toward a tower in the back of the castle.
'I'll do it myself,' he said. 'And I'll send a patrol of Maces after those riders. I doubt we'll catch them, but I don't want them in the city. Those Shou can be sneaky.'
Tombor the Jolly went to the first horse and stood on his toes so he could reach the knots. 'Perhaps we should unload. Since Ruha risked her life to bring us this cargo, I assume it is of some importance.'
'It is.' The witch glanced at the cleric just long enough to nod, then stifled a yawn and dismounted. 'It's the last ingredient the Cult of the Dragon needs to steal Yansel- dara's spirit-ylang blossoms. They arrived on the Gin- ger Lady with Minister Hsieh.'
'Then you've saved Yanseldara!' Fowler's outburst was as much question as exclamation, but that did not stop him from folding Ruha into his arms. 'Maybe now you can get me my gold.'
'Not so fast.' Vaerana went to help Tombor unload the pack train. 'As I understand things, stopping the cult's not the same as saving Yanseldara.'
'That is correct. I have bought us more time, but Yanseldara is still in danger until we recover the staff.'
Vaerana tossed a sack of ylang blossoms on the ground.
'I don't suppose you can tell us where it is?'
The witch shook her head. 'I am sorry. Lady Feng's familiar was gone. It was all I could do to return with the ylang blossoms.'
Vaerana sighed wearily. 'I guess I'll have to do this myself.'
'I am sorry I failed you.'
Vaerana shrugged. 'I'm sure you did your best.'
The Lady Constable probably did not mean to be insulting, but her patronizing tone vexed Ruha and made the witch burn to expose Tombor's treachery. Unfortu- nately, vindication would have to wait. Until the cleric was gone, Ruha could not tell Vaerana about his treach- ery, or about her plan to trick him into leading them to Cypress's lair.
'What are you planning to do?' Ruha tried to sound genuinely sorry for her failure. Once she sprang her trap and exposed Tombor, it would be Vaerana's turn to apolo- gize. 'Perhaps I can help?'
Vaerana rolled her eyes, but managed to make a civil reply. 'Why don't you get some rest? You look like you need it, and this is better done alone.'
'Then you'll try to snatch a member of the cult?' asked Fowler.
Vaerana nodded and reached across a horse to untie another sack of ylang blossoms. 'I know a couple of likely places to find one.'
Tombor shook his head. 'Even if you're lucky enough to catch someone who knows where the lair is, he won't tell you. If you want to make him talk, take me along.'
'Sorry, Tombor. We'll be moving fast tonight.' Vaerana patted the cleric's stomach. 'I don't think you can keep up.'
'You'll have to torture them.'
Vaerana nodded grimly. 'I won't enjoy it.'
Somehow, Ruha suspected the Lady Constable of being less than honest.
