The Veiled Dragon by Troy Denning

other, the warriors fired their weapons, then turned to follow the rest of the company through the gate. The terrain outside Pros was surprisingly clear. Other than a few weed-choked farm plots lying close to the village stockade, the vista was one of grassy, rolling knolls, with a vast sapphire sky hanging so low it seemed they would ride into it. The muddy road snaked its way up a broad, dry valley, meandering back and forth around the base of the dome-shaped hills, gradually growing drier and dustier as it climbed away from the Dragonmere. At last, the road curled around a knoll and angled up the headwall of a small dale. As the company approached the slope, the largest part of the column peeled off and circled the hill, leaving the wounded and those riding double, save the Lady Constable and Pierstar, to continue up the main route. Ruha caught up to Captain Fowler, and together they followed Vaerana to the back side of the knoll, where the warriors were dismounting and reloading their crossbows. They dismounted and passed their reins to Tombor, who had been assigned to stay with the horse holders
    and ready his healing spells. Vaerana cast a wary glance in Ruha’s direction, but turned without comment and started up the slope. Fowler offered a helping hand to the witch, and they began to climb. During the ascent, they had to pause several times to rest the witch’s throbbing leg, giving them ample opportunity to study the road to Elversult. After cresting the dale’s headwall, it struck out as straight as an arrow across a broad expanse of flat, featureless tableland. Already, the wounded riders and the sailors were a hundred yards across the plain, but the distance before them seemed immeasurable, and the witch could see that there were no knolls or ravines where the company of riders could hide while it regrouped and tended to its wounded. By the time Ruha and Fowler reached the summit, the Maces had already fallen to their bellies and crawled to positions overlooking the road below. Some of the men had wrapped small strips of oil-soaked cloth around the heads of their crossbow bolts and were preparing small piles of tinder to ignite with flint and steel. The witch made note of where the nearest fire would be, then she and Fowler crawled to the crest of the hill and laid down on either side of Vaerana. “If we are setting an ambush, I have fire magic that will prove useful.” “I’d like to keep you secret, at least as much as possible.” As Vaerana spoke, she kept her hazel eyes fixed on the road. “Don’t use your magic unless you’re certain of getting them all.” “I cannot be certain. It depends how many they send.” “It’ll be a bunch,” Fowler said. “That arrow squall at the gate was no accident. They were waiting for us.” The suggestion drew an angry scowl from Vaerana. She remained silent a long time, then reluctantly nodded. “I guess we weren’t as sneaky as I thought. The Cult was watching us.” “How’d they know you were there?” Fowler asked. Vaerana shrugged. “Pros is a small town, and we hadn’t planned to be there four days. The Cult probably grew suspicious when they heard the innkeepers gossip ing about all the strangers lolling about in their rooms.” “You are certain they do not have a spy among your men?” Ruha asked. Vaerana frowned as though insulted. “Not among this bunch. Pierstar picked every man himself.” She glanced down the long line of warriors as though confirming to herself that she was right. “Besides, I’m the only one who knew you were coming. A spy couldn’t have told them anything except that I was in town.” “When Pierstar fell, their wizard tried to capture him.” Ruha observed. “Perhaps they were curious about what you wanted in their village.” “Not that curious,” Vaerana retorted. “They’ve had a thousand gold coins on my head for two years. Their assassins wouldn’t pass up that price out of curiosity.” “Speaking of