All three flattened themselves against the slope of the hill, carefully wrapped in the dark side of the bluff. The night had fallen already, but there was a broad moon in the sky giving off ample light.
There was the sound of marching and the snuffling of hounds. A swinging lantern caused a bobbing plume of light to crest the hill. They were low enough that it could not find them. For a moment all three quit breathing. Paedrin was aware of how close Hettie was to him, and it made him scowl for being distracted. There was something musky in her scent, an earthy smell like grass, sweat, and trampled wildflowers. He swallowed, trying to master his thoughts again, to count the various sounds and try to imagine how many soldiers from Kenatos were hunting them.
They passed the hillock, heading east. Soon the hounds were barking and the men began to jog. Around the far side of the hill, the one with the lantern became visible. Only one lantern. How foolish they were. In the dark they would not find anyone, even with those hounds.
Paedrin began counting the soldiers as they appeared.
“How many?” Kiranrao whispered.
“Thirty men,” Hettie answered, slowly rising. “No horses. I’m surprised.”
“There are thirty-two,” Kiranrao said, smiling at her condescendingly. “The Rikes walk more quietly. There they are. Do you see them?” The black robes made them difficult to see.
“Thirty-two,” Hettie answered calmly. “Why the Rikes?”
Kiranrao touched his lips with a finger. “To communicate back to Kenatos. This is not the only group that hunts us, I imagine. They are only following our trail to Havenrook.”
“Which is why we double-backed and now head west,” Paedrin said, bristling with impatience. “They may miss our trail in the dark, thinking us bound east. When they realize it, we are already gone. It is the Uddhava.”
Kiranrao nodded as if it were an accomplishment. “It is. The Bhikhu are not the only ones who use it.”
“You flatter us.”
“I did not intend to.”
“Quiet, both of you,” Hettie snapped. “It worries me that they found our shore trail as quickly as they did. I had hoped for a longer lead. I did not think they would catch up to us after only a day.”
“The Arch-Rike can afford the best Finders, my love. Better than you. We lead them on a merry chase. But they will not stay far behind us.”
“Then we should be going,” she said impatiently, starting to stand.
Kiranrao tugged her back down rudely. “Caution says wait. They may not all have traveled in a mass. Patience.”
Paedrin wanted to break his arm. He wanted to stab Kiranrao’s eyes with his fingers, chop his throat to make him choke, and slam him face-first into the nearest tree trunk. He watched covertly as Hettie rubbed her wrist. Pain was a teacher. Kiranrao was overdue a lesson himself.
In the dark stillness, they waited. The line of soldiers had long vanished into the night. Still they waited. Then two more men, walking side by side, could be heard; they hastened to join the others. Had they left the hilltop, they would have been exposed in the plains.
Kiranrao tapped his nose, smiling smugly.
Paedrin gritted his teeth, admiring the man’s keen senses but also hating him at the same time. When the final two had passed, the three rose from their hiding place and continued westward, toward Silvandom.
Kiranrao vanished into a shadowy mist, leaving the two of them alone again. For all they knew, he could have been walking right next to them. He had some sort of magic imbued in his sword that gave him the abilities beyond ordinary men.
“Explain to me again why he is with us,” Paedrin said in a low voice. “I know you said it before, but every time he opens his mouth, I seem to forget it.”
“He wants the blade, Paedrin. He will barter with my uncle for it. The stones for the blade.”
“But you found the stones. He would not have been able to get them on his own, by what you told me. It was as if the tree gave them to you.”
“There is a Romani saying, Paedrin. Let your bargain suit your purpose.”
He sighed. “And that means?”
“When he found me at the temple, I was going to lose the stones anyway. A man like him can just take what he wants. So I made a bargain with him to free you, in exchange for the stones, knowing that he would try and bargain with Tyrus for the blade. Of the two, I think Tyrus is far more clever.”
“How did you know he would accept your bargain?”
She gave him a wrinkled-brow look that reminded him of a disdainful cat. “You can be such a fool, Paedrin.”
“Yes, I know. But humor me anyway.”
“He relishes a challenge. He is the only man known to have stolen from the Arch-Rike’s palace and lived to boast of the deed. Stealing a prisoner from the dungeon is just the sort of thing that appeals to him. Romani love a challenge. They thrive on risk.”