for Seregil, who had the stone. Tiny points of light shone through the parchment like miniature constellations.

“What does it say?” Alec whispered.

Seregil squinted at the letters for a moment, then his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “It’s in Aurenfaie.” Seregil scanned the page, muttering under his breath. “Dark moon with the tide. Twenty-five. More?”

“More what?”

“Who knows? But ‘dark moon’-perhaps the traitor’s moon-and ‘tide’ suggest smuggling to me.”

Alec nodded excitedly. “That and the manifests!”

“Sounds like our marquis is stockpiling valuables. The question is, why?”

“It must have something to do with that list of names.”

“Very likely.”

Putting the room back in order, they went out the way they came in and headed back to the inn.

Early the following morning they carried the news to Thero, who was at breakfast with several other wizards. A

spread of fresh currant buns, ham, pears, boiled eggs, white cheese, puffed berry pastries-an Oreska House specialty-and pots of strong tea were laid out on one of the worktables. Nysander’s breakfasts had been famous, and to everyone’s surprise, Thero had continued the tradition.

The other wizards greeted them warmly, believing, as intended, that Lord Seregil and Lord Alec had just arrived back from their travels.

“Ah, you’re just in time for another free meal,” Thero noted dryly as they came in.

“Cranky this morning, are we?” Seregil grabbed him in a hug and kissed his bearded cheek, much to the wizard’s dismay.

“Do that again and you’ll find yourself at the top of Mount Apos,” Thero warned, slopping his tea on the table as he shook Seregil off.

“At least it would be an escape from this heat,” Alec said as he filled a plate.

There was no choice in front of the other wizards but to make small talk and pretend they’d come for nothing more than breakfast. But when the wizards were gone Seregil and Alec detailed the findings of their night’s work.

Thero nodded as he listened, then considered it for a long moment. “There’s no way of knowing if the list of names and the apparent smuggling are related. You did find the suspicious documents in different places.”

“There could be any number of reasons for that,” said Seregil.

“Maybe Kyrin was waiting until nobody was there to move the scroll to the hidden cupboard behind the tapestry,” Alec pointed out.

Seregil nodded. “Perhaps.”

“And don’t forget Elani’s stolen letter,” Alec reminded them. “If Kyrin is sharing secrets with Reltheus and the others, maybe they know about the letter, too.”

“Korathan’s secretary, and someone stealing the princess royal’s letters.” Thero frowned. “This could strike at the heart of the court.”

“More work to be done,” said Seregil. “I think Lords

Seregil and Alec will be out of the city again for a bit while the Cat attends to this Watcher business.”

“But I’ll be able to reach you at the inn if need be?”

“Of course. We’ll work out of there until Alec’s name day, then reappear from our ‘travels.’ ”

“Keep me informed of your progress. I fear you may have stumbled onto something quite serious.”

Seregil nodded. “So do I, and I don’t much like our names on that list.”

CHAPTER 5. Whispers in the Dark

KLIA and her force took the Plenimarans by surprise just before sunrise in a carefully coordinated attack, striking at one corner of the encampment. Beka and her troop successfully overwhelmed the pickets before they could raise the alarm, then Lieutenant Kallas and the Urghazi riders went after the enemy’s horses. Klia rode through the gap with Danos, Anri, and their troops, thundering into the camp as the first startled soldiers emerged from their tents.

Even taken by surprise, the Plenimarans were quick to mass against them, and it was a hard-fought battle that surged back and forth between the wood and the river. But as Klia had hoped, the Plenimaran line did begin to thin as they were pushed back.

Within a few hours the broad meadow was littered with the dead and dying, Skalan side by side with Plenimaran.

Bloody to the elbows and half blinded by sweat, Beka and her riders were fighting beside Klia when she heard Danos shout, “Commander, look there!”

Beka couldn’t see Danos, but she did spy a Plenimaran standard wavering above the melee no more than a hundred feet away. Summoning her flagging strength, throat already raw with shouting, Beka yelled, “Riders, to the commander! Blood and Steel!”

Fighting like the demons the Plenimarans had named them, they hacked their way through what felt like a wall of

flesh and armor, scattering the enemy commander’s bodyguard and clearing the way for Klia.

Beka was in the lead when they broke through at last and there was the Plenimaran officer, wearing the insignia of a cavalry commander.

Klia must have been as exhausted as any of them, but she gave no quarter as she shouted “For Skala and the queen!” and lunged past Beka to attack the commander with Beka and Captain Danos at her back. The others had their hands full holding off the Plenimaran soldiers.

Suddenly a cry went up from the enemy. Beka dispatched the man she’d been fighting with a blow to the neck, then looked over her shoulder quickly to see the Plenimaran commander on the ground, with Klia’s blade at his throat.

“Bretza!” Klia shouted, loud enough to carry around to the men still fighting. It was the Plenimaran command to yield.

The fallen officer glared up at her for a moment, then dropped his hands to his sides, relinquishing his sword. The day was theirs.

It took well over an hour for word to spread around the field that the Plenimarans had lost. Meanwhile, Klia had the captured officer and his bodyguard disarmed and escorted to the edge of the river, where Beka and several of her riders stood guard over them.

The sun had passed noon when the fighting finally stopped and the last of the enemy were disarmed. Klia had the Plenimaran provision wagons emptied, then gave them to the vanquished commander so he could gather and transport his dead. The wagons were nearly empty to begin with, just a few barrels of salt fish and hard biscuit; the Plenimarans were as badly supplied as they were, if not worse.

Leaving Klia with a sizable guard, Beka, Captain Anri, and Danos went to gather the remaining squadron.

“That was a bloody day.” Anri sighed, looking around. She was as filthy as the others, and there were dark circles under her darker eyes. She was a good friend, too. Years of bitter war had forged a solid bond between them.

“Do we see anything else?” asked Danos, yawning.

They continued on in silence, taking in the carnage. As the battle fever drained away, Beka felt exhaustion creeping into its place, but there was still much to do.

One by one, they found their lieutenants and listened to their reports. Urghazi Turma, which had already taken losses that summer, had lost eleven riders more and Braknil, who’d been lieutenant since Beka’s promotion, was mortally wounded. Sergeant Zir had only three riders left. Most of the others had wounds of some degree.

Klia allowed her exhausted forces to eat what they had, then gave orders to recover the Skalan dead for burning. What was left of Beka’s Red Horse Turma were ordered to guard the ford, sparing them the grim task of dispatching the enemy wounded and speeding on those of their own who were too badly hurt to survive. There was no time to grieve for the fallen.

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