The Edge of Chaos by Jak Koke Page B

shade of a large flagstone. It was right where she knew he’d been all along, but if she looked away, even for a second, she had a hard time finding him in the tableau of shadows and shapes.
    The riders approached at a rapid canter from the direction of the Tyrangal’s mansion. Slanya picked out four of them, coming directly for her: three human men she didn’t recognize and one red-headed female dwarf in blue clerical robes, tied at the waist with a braided white rope. The dwarf had been part of Vraith’s party when she’d visited with Gregor. Within moments they drew reins in the path next to her.
    “We can see you, cleric,” said a large man in dull plate armor. “And our quarrel is not with you. I’m Beaugrat from the Order of Blue Fire. We’re looking for a man by the name of Duvan.”
    Behind the man, an archer with a pockmarked complexion nocked an arrow. Next to him was a thin skeleton of a man with the air of a pilgrim.
    “The criminal was recently seen walking with you,” said Beaugrat.
    So they havent seen Duvan yet, she thought.
    Slanya stepped out into the open, standing ready. She gripped her staff loosely, prepared to swing it. “Good morning to you—”
    Beaugrat swung down from his horse and stood facing her. He wore a heavy suit of armor and a huge sword on his back.
    “Criminal?” Slanya took stock of the other three. The archer and the pilgrim hung back on their horses. The pilgrim
    wore leathers but seemed uncomfortable in them. The archer brought the bow up, the ready arrow aimed at her. The dwarf cleric merely looked on, her dark eyes set in a ruddy face. The Order of Blue Fire symbol of a flaming blue eyeball, was embroidered on her robes.
    “Yes,” Beaugrat said, “he killed two respected members of the Order and is wanted for questioning and — enlightenment.”
    Slanya winced. Enlightenment was not something that could be imposed upon someone by an external force. Despite the fact that Gregor had forged ties with Vraith, the more Slanya learned of its practices, the less she respected the Order of Blue Fire.
    “My meeting with Duvan was brief. I don’t know where he is at the moment.”
    Beaugrat stepped closer, prompting Slanya to lift her staff. “If he submits without a fight,” the man said, “you have nothing to fear.”
    Slanya drew up to her full height. She was taller than Beaugrat, and although the man outweighed her by double, she managed to look down on him. “I do not want to fight you, sir,” she said. “But you will find me a formidable opponent. There is also a formal alliance between the leaders of my monastery and Commander Accordant Vraith of your order. Any aggression toward me would jeopardize that, and such an act would meet with punishment from above. So, in that light, Beaugrat, I suggest you look elsewhere.”
    For a passing moment, Beaugrat hesitated, his face revealing his confusion. Then he threw his head back and laughed. Tm afraid you don’t understand,” he said. “Just tell me where Duvan is, or we will be forced to kill you.”
    Without warning, the bowman on the horse behind Beaugrat grunted. Slanya looked up to see his face stricken into a frozen grimace of pain. He toppled sideways off the horse, bis arrow springing free from his grip. The wayward quarrel
    plunged into the hindquarters of Beaugrat’s riderless horse. The black stallion reared and bolted.
    Slanya saw Duvan’s shadowy form approaching Beaugrat from, behind, moving fast. Go, go, she urged silently. On the periphery of her vision, she noticed the cleric make a pattern with her hands, drawing power from her god. That would not do.
    Slanya leaped sideways, closing the distance, and struck three rapid blows to the cleric’s head and neck, aiming for the specific spots she knew had a high chance of stunning the dwarf. Two of the blows landed, and the dwarf slumped unconscious mid cast.
    A quick glance told her that Duvan was fighting with Beaugrat. Duvan lunged, touching the