The Dragonprince's Heir by Aaron Pogue

sharing stories and a dirty bottle of smoky liquor. I earned no more than a glance from them as I passed, and then I had their camp, too, between Toman and me. After that I moved swiftly, sure-footed as a fox, and soon I didn't even need to sneak. I left the vigilant knight sleeping and made my way out of our formation.
    There were sentries posted beyond the outer edge of the camp, but they were meant to keep enemies and pilferers from gaining entry. They paid little attention to the late-night movements of individuals already inside the lines. I slipped easily along a lane that took me past the supply wagons and the seamstresses and the cooks. I saw perhaps a dozen other souls awake as I moved toward the lines of the military men, but none of them spared me more than a glance.
    The military men gave me more trouble. As I approached the first line of infantry, I accidentally made eye contact with someone sitting on the southwest corner of his formation. He might have been a posted sentry or just a sleepless soldier, but he popped to his feet as I approached.
    "Oi!" he called. "Who're you?"
    I met his eyes and tried my lie. "I'm a squire of Lord Souward's. On an errand."
    His eyes narrowed. "What's your errand?"
    My heart hammered, but I didn't look away. I kept my voice level. "I.... I'm searching for the officer of Souward's Seventh. He's been missing since we left the Tower."
    The soldier peered closer for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Old Cotter? You might better say he's been missing since Tirah. Doesn't make a lot of difference, though, does it?"
    I blinked. "Does it?"
    He shook his head and chuckled. "Haven't found him yet? Try the seamstresses' camp. Or the alchemists down east end. Could be either one." His eyes shone with a private humor.
    I gave him an amused smile and a bit of a blush that I didn't have to fake. "Tried them both already, and everywhere else I can think of. Just going back to report to Lord Souward now."
    The soldier's laughter dissolved. He fixed me with a look of perfect pity. "Being the bearer of bad news, are you? Haven watch over you, boy. Better sooner than later, anyway. Get on."
    I encountered two more soldiers standing sentry among the archers' formations, and then an officer, too, who confronted me through a fog of bourbon fumes. I borrowed some of the things I'd learned from the first soldier to smooth out my lie, and each new encounter gave me more to work with.
    By the time I reached the drunken officer, I made it through the conversation without a single suspicious glance, and with a gift of a silver coin earned of heartfelt sympathy. I chuckled to myself as I scurried on up the lane, closer and closer to the carriages and the camp where my mother slept.
    I held my breath as I passed among the cavalry camps, but I was working my way up the left flank, nearly half a mile from the lane we'd used that first day. Still, I watched the neatly-ordered lines of their fine, tall tents for any sign of a familiar face. I passed two rows of heavy cavalry and saw another single cavalry formation on the northwest corner of the camp, but to the east of it was a smaller camp with a very different feel.
    There were no tents at all. There were no bedrolls. There were long lines of men in full armor on the open ground. The soldiers sleeping lay flat on their backs, arms at their sides, with the hilt of a naked sword waiting beneath each man's right hand and four throwing knives arrayed around the left.
    But every third soldier, all the way down the line, was on one knee, eyes bright, watching the night. I stepped up to the intersection of two lanes, near one corner of the strange camp, and I stopped in my tracks at the strange sight.
    I recognized the armor. I had seen it often in the last week. These were the Green Eagles, the king's personal guard. For a heartbeat I stood frozen, staring in awe, then just as some of the kneeling sentries began to turn my way, I felt a heavy hand