"Am I interrupting?"
Wynn stiffened and lifted her head.
Magiere leaned against the doorframe with arms folded, her hair pulled back with a leather thong. Her hauberk was buckled down over her thick wool pullover, and the falchion was strapped to her waist. Hood down, her cloak was pushed back off her shoulders.
"Or should I come back later?" she added.
There was no anger in her voice and her serious expression was marred by one cocked eyebrow. When it came to Leesil's affection, Magiere had nothing to fear from Wynn. She had nothing to fear from anyone. Leesil had eyes only for her. Magiere's humor was as caustic as everything else about her.
Wynn blushed, quickly holding out her arms to divert attention. "Look what he did."
"I know," Magiere replied. "I suggested it. You ready?"
Wynn nodded. She grabbed her pack loaded with scholar's wares to maintain the front they had first established in Darmouth's presence. When they returned to the common room, Chap paced before the bar, still whining. Leesil opened the front door and remained there as Magiere led the way down the street. No one said good-bye.
Wynn pulled her hood forward and lowered her head a little against the cold breeze. They walked without speaking, Chap trotting beside her. He finally quit mourning the loss of his sausages.
Wynn barely noticed the city around her until the keep appeared ahead between the buildings. They passed a few soldiers loitering in the street near a dry-goods shop. Magiere glanced at them and kept on walking. She had not bothered to pull up her cloaks hood, and Wynn wondered how she could stand the cold.
They passed more soldiers milling about. Rather than patrolling, they stood outside of homes and taverns as if they had nothing better to do.
Magiere reached the crossing of Favor's Row and stopped. Ahead of them, Lieutenant Omasta waited in the archway of the bridge gatehouse. No soldiers accompanied him, but three came slowly down Favor's Row from the right.
Magiere remained still, and Wynn wondered at the delay. Omasta waved them forward, and Chap growled.
''Start backing up," Magiere whispered.
Wynn stepped up next to her. "Bur…?"
Magiere was expressionless. Snowflakes landing upon her pale race seemed to disappear before melting.
"We run," Magiere said quietly. "Find a place to hide until dark and make your way back to Byrd's."
Wynn glanced back the way they had come.
Two cross streets back, the soldiers who had been hanging about only moments before now walked toward them at a quick pace. One drew his shortsword. Lieutenant Omasta stepped off the bridges end onto the cobblestones, walking casually toward them.
"It's all right," he called out. "My lord wishes to speak with you."
Wynn knew right then he was lying.
Magiere jerked out her falchion. "Wynn, to your left. They don't want you."
"But what about-"
"Run!"
Chap snarled, spinning about to face behind them.
Wynn bolted to the left down Favor's Row. She ran as fast as her short legs could without slipping on frozen cobblestones. She glanced back once over her shoulder.
Magiere headed the other way toward three soldiers charging to meet her. Chap was close behind her.
Wynn looked ahead and veered toward the first street away from the lakeside. She turned the corner and slammed straight into something.
Hard bumps ground against her face and forehead on impact. She recoiled and stumbled, barely keeping her footing. All she saw for a moment was a wide torso covered by a studded breastplate of hardened leather.
"Where you goin", girl?"
The soldier was more than a head taller than Wynn. A cap of quilted wool with earflaps covered his head and framed a square face of ruddy windburned cheeks and beard stubble. His eyes looked too small for his face. Another came up behind him.
All Wynn could think to do was scream out, "Magiere! Chap!"
"Not gonna happen," the soldier said, and grabbed the front of her coat.
Wynn gripped his wrist with both hands, trying to pull him off. He jerked hard, curling his arm, and spun her around. Her pack ended up crushed against his chest. He closed his other arm around her, and the ground dropped from under her feet as she was lifted.
Wynn's arms were pinned and she kicked wildly, but the soldier's hold would not give. She felt something grinding through her coat's bulk and her short robe into her ribs.
A dagger-the one on her left wrist.
"Be still, you little whelp," the soldier warned. "Malik, get over here and grab those legs."
Wynn focused on only two things. She pushed panic aside and folded her left leg up high. She kicked sharply downward.
Her boot heel ground down the soldier's thigh and hit sharply on his kneecap. His leg buckled, and he barked out a curse. When her feet touched down, she thrashed free of his grip, but he grabbed the pack before she could get clear.
Wynn slipped her arms from its straps and reached up her left sleeve. As her hand closed on the dagger's hilt, a booted foot struck her hard between the shoulder blades.
She toppled forward and slid. Her right cheek grated across the street's cold stones. Panic took hold as she scrambled to her knees, swinging blindly back with the dagger.
Its tip grated along a leather hauberk instead of a breastplate. The second soldier half crouched above her. His eyes widened at the blade's passing, and he lashed out with his hand.
His palm cracked against the side of Wynn's face, and her head whipped sideways. Wynn's vision turned white, and she vaguely heard a metallic clatter.
She lay facedown in the street, but the white still blurred her vision like a blizzard enveloping the world. What little she made out looked as flat as a picture-her left eye would not focus at all.
Something thin and biting circled her wrists. A sharp pain in both
Wynn's shoulders cut through the dull ache in her head and eye, as her arms were pinned back and tied.
"Lucky day, girlie," came a voice she barely heard. "We're supposed to bring you in one piece."
Wynn's arms jerked upward, her shoulders twisting back as she came off the ground. She exhaled sharply. Her feet dragged on the stones as she was carried away.
"You half-wits!" someone shouted. "You were to stay out of sight until they were on the bridge."
It took all Wynn's strength to turn her head. She looked up with only her right eye.
Lieutenant Omasta glared down Favor's Row and slowly shook his head. Wynn tried to focus.
Bodies lay in the street. Soldiers were Wynn's best guess. Magiere and Chap were gone. They had escaped-and she was alone.
Wynn could not feel afraid. She was too tired. She wished the soldier would just drop her so she could sleep on the cold stone. She remembered Leesil holding her as she told him that everything would be fine.
Omasta turned about and looked down at Wynn. "Take her in and wait for me. The rest of your contingent had better bring that hunter back."
Wynn's head sagged. A salty taste filled her slack mouth, and every few paces a dark red droplet spattered on the snow-dusted stones of the keep's bridge.
Magiere heard Wynn cry out. She faltered in her flight and stopped to look back. Chap whirled about as well.
Three soldiers closed behind them. Three more were coming out ahead. Magiere couldn't see Wynn, and anguish only made her furious that she'd led the young sage into this trap.
Chap lunged back down the road toward the trailing soldiers.
"No!" Magiere shouted.
The dog skidded to a halt with an angry snarl.
"We can't help her if we're caught," Magiere said.
Chap barked twice in denial, but he turned back, lunging ahead of her toward the soldiers in their path. Magiere rushed after him.
The soldiers were fully focused on her, and the first was caught by surprise when Chap grazed his leg in passing. The man stumbled sideways, and Magiere slashed into his side with the falchion as she passed She didn't look back to see if he went down. The next two slowed.