Hammers in the Wind by Christian Warren Freed Page A

almost feel Raste’s contempt rising beside him.
    The younger scout thumbed the edge of his blackened dagger impatiently. He’d like nothing more than to charge in and make the kill. Unfortunately that wasn’t his job anymore. He was being paid to sit and watch and report. So Raste sat quietly and observed his enemy. The pair had almost grown bored when the man suddenly froze. His head darted from side to side as if frantically searching for something.
    “Damn,” Raste barely whispered.
    His first instinct was they’d been discovered and it was time to attack. If they didn’t stop the man now it was all over. He would return to his masters and report their position. That was unacceptable. He glanced over at Mahn to see if the older man’s body language suggested the same intent. It didn’t. Mahn sat still as a tree and watched. Raste, being the junior, resigned himself to the same.
    Mahn watched their prey with extreme interest. There was nothing familiar about him. He moved like a normal man with limited field experience. His dress was non-distinct. He wore a thin rapier on his right hip, not the sort of weapon a man in this profession would choose. Mahn suddenly felt as if he was wasting his time. Their stalker was definitely not from Badron’s court. Mahn watched the man bolt back in the direction from which he came.
    “Do we follow?” Raste immediately asked.
    Mahn shook his head. “No. He’s harmless.”
    “He might have friends.”
    “Then let us hope they are better at this game than this one. We don’t have anything to fear from him.”
    Raste wasn’t so sure. “I don’t like it. We should at least see where he is going.”
    “To what purpose? I’d be willing to bet he’s no more than a boy chasing an easy score. Let the wind take him. We have better things to do.”
    “Such as?” Raste raised an eyebrow.
    They were sitting in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the worst situation Raste had been in but he could think of several better ones. Besides, it was getting too cold to be wandering through the Delranan forests by themselves. He imagined how warm Aurec’s fire must be and stifled a jealous pang. The luxuries of being a prince, he guessed. Fat and warm while all of us soldiers do the dirty work. Just lovely .
    “A bit of sleep and some hot food,” Mahn answered.
    He’d never admit it, but he was every bit as tired and cold as Raste. Years of military service failed to immunize him to nature despite the hard edge. That edge often made it difficult to make friends or adapt in social situations very well. Mahn wasn’t quite old yet. He was only a few years beyond thirty. The downside was that the military was all he knew. Part of him wished Raste never had to know the same hardships, and a little luxury was most certainly owed them.
    Raste cracked a thin smile. “I like the sound of that.”
    “Let’s head back to camp. It will be dawn in a few hours and I need some rest.”
    “Lead on, oh wise one.”
    The scouts wheeled their mounts around and headed back to their small camp. Pale moonlight bathed the ground in an eerie glow. Shadows gave the impression of foul creatures stalking the innocence of the night. Neither scout paid much attention to such. They were accustomed, if not wholly comfortable, with working in the night. Still, both remained ready in the event the darkness turned on them.
    Mahn occasionally glanced behind them. He still had the sinking feeling that comes from being watched. Every time he turned he saw nothing. Mahn eventually decided the paranoia was from the lack of sleep and focused on the path ahead. So it was that he failed to see the small figure trailing them from a safe distance.

ELEVEN
    The Dragon’s Bane plowed through the open waters. Gulls soared along the prow. Sea spray coated those close to the rails. She made good time though Bahr felt they could do better. He paced the decks with a constant scowl. The northern ice