Luck in the Shadows

dreams. Pulling the stolen cloak around his shoulders, he went into the bushes to relieve his bladder, then walked down to the edge of the pool below the falls. Every bruise and welt protested as he dipped up a handful of icy water, but he was too happy to care; he was alive and he was free! Whoever, whatever this Rolan Silverleaf was, Alec owed him his life.
    But where was the man?
    Branches rattled on the opposite side of the pool as a doe stepped from the trees to drink.
    Alec's fingers itched for the taut pull of a bowstring.
    "Maker keep you fat until we meet again!" he called softly. Startled, the deer sprang away on slender legs and Alec set off to see what he could forage.
    It was an old forest. Towering firs had long since choked out all but the most persistent undergrowth, so that a man could easily have driven a cart between their thick, straight trunks. High overhead, the dense canopy of interlaced boughs filtered the sunlight to muted underwater tones. Moss-crusted boulders studded the slope. Between them, patches of dead ferns whispered dryly as he passed. Finding a few late mushrooms, he gathered them, nibbling at one as he went along.
    As he passed a large boulder, he was surprised to find a rabbit dead in a snare. Hoping this was Rolan's work, he freed the carcass and sniffed it.
    It was fresh. Mouth watering at the first prospect of hot meat in days, he headed eagerly back to the camp. As he neared the clearing he heard the knock of steel against a flint and hurried on to show Rolan their breakfast.
    Stepping from the shelter of the trees, he froze in terror.
    O Dalna, they found us!
    A rough-clad stranger was standing with his back to Alec, looking out over the pool. His tunic of green homespun and leather breeches were unremarkable; it was the long scabbard slung low on the intruder's left hip that caught the boy's attention.
    Alec's first thought was to melt back into the woods, find Rolan. As he took a cautious step back, however, his heel struck a dry stick. It snapped loudly and the man whirled about, sword drawn. Dropping the rabbit and the mushrooms, Alec turned to bolt. A familiar voice behind him brought him to a halt.
    "It's all right. It's me. It's Rolan."
    Still poised to run, Alec took a wary look back and realized his mistake. It was Rolan, after all, though he bore little resemblance to the foppish coxcomb of the night before.
    "Good morning," Rolan called. "You'd better go get that coney you dropped. I've only got one other and I'm famished!"
    Alec's cheeks flushed hotly as he hastily gathered up the rabbit and mushrooms and brought them to the fire.
    "I didn't recognize you," he exclaimed.
    "How can you look so different?"
    "Just changed my clothes." Rolan pushed back the thick brown hair that hung now in damp waves over
    his shoulders. "I don't suppose you got a very good look at me before, racing around in the dark as we did."
    This was true, Alec reflected, sizing his companion up. Rolan somehow seemed taller in the daylight, though he was not a large man at all.
    Rather, he was slender and fine-featured, with large grey eyes set over high cheekbones and a long, narrow nose. His mouth was fine, almost thin, and tilted at the moment in a lopsided grin that made him look younger than Alec would have guessed before.
    "I don't know, Rolan—"
    "Oh, and about the name." The grin tilted a bit higher. "It isn't actually Rolan Silverleaf."
    "What do I call you, then?" asked Alec, not particularly surprised.
    "You can call me Seregil."
    "How's that?"
    "Serah-gill."
    "Oh." It was an odd-sounding name, but Alec sensed it was all he was going to get for the moment. "Where were you?"
    "Checking to see if anyone tracked us. There's no sign of Asengai's men yet, but we'd better move on soon in case they get lucky. We'll eat first, though. You look starved."
    Alec knelt by the fire, inspecting the two lean coneys with a rueful smile. "We'd be eating venison if I had my bow. Those bastards took everything I owned. I don't even have a knife! Lend me one and I'll clean these."
    Reaching into the top of one tall boot, Seregil handed him a long poniard.
    "Maker's Mercy, that's a beauty!" Alec exclaimed, running a thumbnail appreciatively along the edge of the narrow, triangular blade. As he set about cleaning the first rabbit, however, it was Seregil's turn to be impressed.
    "You're pretty handy at that sort of thing," he remarked as Alec opened the belly with a single quick stroke.
    Alec offered