risk another plague. I didn’t know what Dradac’s views on magic were and I wasn’t about to ask him, but I was ever mindful of Brig’s advice to keep my ability to myself.
I looked out over the spreading treetops below. Perched high in the thick boughs of a tree a few miles beyond the perimeter of Red Rock, we were on morning watch. Or rather, Dradac was on watch and I sat with him, pretending the task was mine too.
When a shrill birdcall split the air I was so lost in my thoughts that I started and nearly fell from my precarious perch. The bad imitation of a crested redbird was a familiar signal, one that meant trespassers were approaching the perimeters of the camp.
Dradac winced. “That’s Seirdric. I’d know that strangled warble anywhere. Come on.”
“What do you think it is?” I demanded, scrambling down the tree after him and following as he slipped into the underbrush.
“Probably only innocent travelers blundering through the forest. Looks like you’ll have an opportunity to see a bit of action today.”
I kept my thoughts to myself, reluctant to remind him Brig preferred to keep me far away from “action.” Torn between eagerness and unease at witnessing whatever was to come, my nerves fluttered skittishly. But excitement won out. I had waited a long time to be considered old enough for this sort of thing. I wondered if Dradac would kill anyone. Then I wondered if I might kill anyone. I had a sturdy staff with me just in case.
Following our man’s call, Dradac moved swiftly and silently through the forest so that I had difficulty keeping pace with him. It was easy to locate our quarry as we drew near. They made a great deal of noise, crashing clumsily through the underbrush and conversing in loud, angry tones. We heard them long before we caught sight of them.
“You had better know what you’re about, you impudent scoundrel. I’ve paid dear coin for safe escort to the abbey and if I find you’ve gone and lost us in this gloomy wood—”
“You’ll stutter, puff up your fat jowls, and do nothing at all. You cannot frighten me, priest, so save your breath and your threats for someone else.”
“Why y-you mother-forsaken black heart! How d-d-dare you?” In his indignation, the priest was so overcome by his impediment he had difficulty spitting out the words.
His companion ignored his complaint. “I’ve told you before, Honored One, you’ve nothing to fear. I know this wood like the back of my hand. It’s but a shorter path I lead you on.”
“I should have been content to r-remain on the road,” the priest replied sullenly. “But now that it’s too late to turn back, at least lead us on with a little more speed. I’d as soon be out of this forest by nightfall. They say these woods are crawling with murderous brigands.”
He paused to call over his shoulder to a third companion. “You, boy! Have a care with my belongings. That’s not a sack of potatoes you’re carrying.”
Dradac and I crept closer until we had a full view of the trespassers. There were three of them. A large, balding fellow led the way, followed by a chubby, elderly man dressed in the traditional gray robes of an Honored One, a priest of the Light. Trailing these two was a slender boy of about my age, also wearing priestly robes and carrying a heavy pack across his shoulders.
The path they followed would soon lead the travelers straight past us. Dradac and I had dropped to our bellies, concealing ourselves in a tall patch of waving toadsbreath. A glance at the trees to our right revealed two of our men, Illsman and Nib, concealed in the branches of a pair of thick elder trees. To our left, the swaying of a low stand of shrubbery gave away Seirdric’s position.
Imitating Dradac, I kept my head low as we crouched in the greenery, and as we waited for the approaching strangers, I used the time to size up the three unlikely traveling companions. The lead man had the appearance of a woodsman by his