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Should he get away from the camp on foot, or try to take a horse? He might set the whole line of horses fidgeting. He was pondering this, pressing and sawing and wincing from the blister he had made on his palm, when he heard footsteps. He dropped down, shoved the knife under him, and lay still.

The steps came closer, and he tried to breathe slowly and evenly. He could see the tall silhouette against the embers. It wasn’t Garit; the man didn’t walk like Garit, and he was too tall. Before the man loomed over him, Teb shut his eyes. Then a hand reached under him and felt around until it found the knife. Teb squinted to look, and could just see in the darkness the way the hand held the blade, crippled and twisted.

Hibben knelt there fingering the knife.

It was all over now. Teb felt sick and helpless. How had Hibben known?

Hibben turned, still kneeling, so the knife swung close to Teb’s face as he raised it. And he began to cut at the tree.

Long, heavy strokes, swift and sure. Teb stared.

Why was Hibben helping him? Where was Garit? Was this some kind of trick?

Hibben nudged his shoulder. “Stand up. Hold the tree while I cut on through. I’ll take the weight when it falls. Brace your feet.”

Teb stood up and braced his shoulder against the tree, gripping the trunk against himself as tight as he could. He could feel the trunk tremble as the knife sliced and sliced, could feel the tree begin to give way. He pressed with all his strength, then he felt it ease as Hibben stood up and grasped it above him. He moved away when Hibben pushed him, and stood helpless to do more. He felt, as much as saw, the tree let down, with a whisper of leaves, onto the wet ground. He knelt at once, slipped the chain over the stump and tied it to his leg, was ready to run when Hibben pulled him up. “Come on.” He pushed Teb in among the horses so he was pressed between their warm rumps. “This one, here,” Hibben gave him a leg up, pressed the reins into his hands, and backed the horse out of line, then led it with his own as they moved away from the camp. Other horses moved with them, led by men Teb could not see in the darkness.

Away from the camp, they stopped to mount. Teb stared at the dark, moving shapes, trying to make out who they were. Garit? He thought so, and breathed easier. And then someone small, who could only be Lervey. They moved out at a slow, silent walk; not even the bits jingled. Teb thought they were wrapped in cloth. There was no sign of the jackals following, no heavy rushing flight at them, no irritable, coughing bark. A rider moved up beside Teb and touched his arm. He stared up into Pakkna’s bearded face. Pakkna squeezed his arm, then moved on in silence. Teb thought he heard Garit whisper a command. They rode for a long time without speaking, up across the rising meadow, moving faster when they were well away from the camp. Then at last they were on drier ground beside tall boulders, and then on a rocky trail.

They had not traveled far over the rough shingle when Garit moved his horse up beside Teb. It was lighter now, for the clouds were blowing away, and the pale constellations of Mimmilette and Casscassonne shone above the ridge. Garit leaned down as if to study the gait of Teb’s mount.

“Your horse has gone lame; can’t you feel it? Picked up a stone, likely. Pull him up and let’s have a look. Go on, Hibben. We’ll catch up.”

Teb and Garit dismounted as the others moved ahead, and soon stood alone as Garit lifted the gelding’s near front foot.

“I didn’t feel him go lame,” Teb whispered.

“Shh. He’s not. I wanted you alone. Now listen well. I am going to give you some instructions pretty soon, in front of the others. I don’t want you to follow them.”

Teb nodded, puzzled.

“What I do want you to do is this. Go to the caves of Nison-Serth as I will tell you. But go on through them, clear through and out the other side, above the Bay of Dubla. Make sure there is no one on the coast to see you, stay hidden, get down the coast and back into Auric. Stay near the shore; keep to the brush and rocks. You can get into Bleven all right, but do it at night. Go directly to the cottage of Merlther Brish on the back street. You’ll know it by the big dray horses in the side yard and the pile of barrels and the smell of malt—he’s the brewer. Give him this note.” Garit pressed a piece of paper into Teb’s hand. “He will hide you. You are to stay there, Teb. Safely hidden. You are to wait there until I can bring you an army. Merlther will do the best he can for you.”

Teb stared at Garit in disbelief.

“You will retake Auric one day. I promise you. I will bring you all the armed men I can muster.”

“But how can I stay there so long and not be discovered? For years, until I grow up? So close to the palace . . . just stay—with a stranger?”

“He is your subject, Teb. Merlther will take the best care of you. And there are ways of hiding someone—cellars no one has seen, passages between the houses . . .”

“I never heard of—”

“Such things can be built in four years. Auric, young prince, has taken a lesson from Ebis the Black. Auric, too, will rise again. Do you think I got myself sent down to the coast for nothing? All it took was a little judicious criticism, a little too much complaining. I know my value as horsemaster well enough to be pretty sure he wouldn’t kill or imprison me, just get me out of his hair. And he did need the colts from down there. Now mount up, lad, before they get curious. I don’t trust any of them, except Pakkna. But they all wanted to be free of Sivich. Maybe they’re all right—time will tell me.”

“But you—what will you . . . ?”

“We’ll get away. When Sivich trails us, it will not be you he follows, but us. And we’ll lose him all right.”

“What about the jackals? Did you kill them?”

“Only one. I couldn’t find the other two in the dark; they dropped down to sleep somewhere, full of deermoss.”

“How long will they sleep?”

“Eight or ten hours.”

“The men, too?”

“Yes. You should be deep in the caves by that time, maybe through them.”

It was not long after they joined the others that Garit called a second halt, and the riders moved close together, their horses nosing one another, as Garit gave Teb the false instructions. They had moved up behind boulders now, where sight and sound were shielded from the plain below. Starlight touched the cliffs, and now Teb could see that the sixth rider was a tall, thin soldier called Sabe, a pale, saturnine man whom Teb had never liked. Six riders and seven horses, the seventh laden with pack. Garit put a gentle hand on Teb’s shoulder.

“Sivich’s men will follow us as soon as they wake and see we’re gone. There was no way to hide our tracks in the wet meadow. They will follow our trail, Teb. You must leave us now. You must go to the caves of Nison-Serth and hide there. Pakkna tells me you know the caves well.”

Teb nodded.

Garit pulled at his red beard. “The plan is this. You will go on foot from here up across the rocks, where you will leave no trail. You will wait in the caves of Nison-Serth and watch the meadow and the camp from there.

“You must wait until Sivich has sent out his trackers and the two jackals after us and has himself moved on toward Baylentha. I don’t think I misjudge; I think he will take the main party there, he’s that eager for the dragon. He’ll want the troops who trail us to kill us, all but you, and bring you there to him.

“When the meadows are clear of him, you must move down across the border to Ratnisbon at night, and seek safe sanctuary from Ebis the Black. He will be happy indeed to shelter the Prince of Auric, for he has no love for Sivich, as you well know.”