Quiet Magic by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller

 
     
    And Hawks for
Heralds
    Steve Miller
     
    ROVE CAPTAIN ROMILY Slate sat
comfortably ahorse, enjoying a moment of solitude. Afternoon clouds
shredded themselves on still higher mountains. Before him a hanging
mist was folded into a green-and-stone tumble of hillsides;
hillside and mist fell away together into the river gorge they'd
heard so much about for the last ten-day. Beneath all, a
disquieting distant rumble-- more felt than heard-- as if the
entire land trembled at the might of the river they
approached.
    Ahead lay the Carrsbritch Crossing. It
was best, he'd been told, to keep merchants hours when crossing, no
matter that the bridge was open all the hours of the day and night
to accommodate the traffic that flowed so heavily between the
lands.
    It wise, too, to avoid those folks too
eager to sell in the hurly-burly town of Hartwell they'd just left.
Indeed, if one more well-meaning citizen told him "Never buy from a
traveler on the Carrsbritch Road" he would likely draw
sword!
    Advice could not be avoided in these
lands. Everyone was sure to let you know that it was unwise to
enter Lamonta with stolen goods if your route took you through
Hartwell and the Carrsbritch Crossing.
    And so they were warned....
    They were from overseas. Even in this
well-traveled corridor there was fascination about those from
beyond the Bilder Sea, especially when they traveled not as
merchants or mentor-and-student, but as soldiers under flag. The
fascination extended to their accents, which were sharper and
quicker than the speech of the seamen and coastal merchants the
locals were accustomed to encountering as travelers.
    "Captain! Hah! I'd camp if I were you!
Mist makes a crowd on the bridge, you know! Hah! Better view, too,
in the sunlight! Hah! Besides, soldiers deal better with soldiers
than magicians! Hah!"
    This from Ekyr Farer, the odd herb
merchant they'd met on the road days before. He tugged his train of
pack ponies behind him, and headed for the fork down-trail toward
the cliffsides, where he had business collecting precious yellow
'fron. The little man rode, as always, urging his own small horse
as if pursued; as always he smelled of his wares--a stark contrast
to the bracing scent of the river valley.
    "Hah. Camp before the rain comes! Hah!
Sleep till dawn! Hah!" came his instruction as he disappeared
around a sharp hillside to the right.
    Slate muttered under his breath while
Grayling, his horse, cocked his head, as if turning to get a repeat
of a badly given command, and then pulled slightly on the reins,
attempting to drift to the left...
    "Poof, horse! Everyone wants to give
me directions, including you!" Slate quieted the horse with a
good-natured pat on the neck.
    Slate and his small troop had made
good time from their bivouac on the far side of the sprawling town
of Hartwell until a series of gusty rain showers had overtaken them
on the slopes rising toward the divide, turning a relatively
comfortable fall ride into a miserably damp one, and slowing their
progress considerably.
    Now his troopers--Catania, Disburno,
Arbran, Littlebrook, and Hall-- were relaxing around the luxury of
an afternoon fire while they grazed their horses in a hilly meadow
a few hundred paces off the busy trade route. The area was known as
Kinzel Overlook after some ancient mage. Slate laughed to himself
and Grayling, already grazed, pranced for a moment.
    Fifty days ago he and his men had been
hurried out of DaChauxma on the order of his Lady and her new
wizard. Since then he'd gathered to him a magic map, a coin
sectioned by a wizard's will, a one-night lover who slept with a
glowing talisman around her neck....
    Fifty days ago he'd have ridden
through a thunderstorm to avoid stopping in a meadow said to have
been a wizard's vantage. Now, he merely did his best to move on
quickly. His sword had given him no warning of danger, after
all.
    With that thought he shrugged, flexed
his knees, and stretched into the stirrups, nearly standing