Luck in the Shadows

city. Streets fanned out like spokes from circular plazas, or intersected to form ordered squares and commons. From this height he could also see past the citadel wall to the outer harbor, where boats bobbed at anchor in the shelter of the moles. On the landward side, open country quickly gave way to rolling foothills and jagged, snowcapped mountains beyond.
    As he turned to go down the steps again, a blue message sphere suddenly winked into existence in front of him and Nysander's voice said,
    "Alec, join us in Seregil's room, please."
    He found Seregil and Nysander in the midst of a heated discussion when he arrived. Nysander was calm, if solemn, but there was a decidedly stubborn set to Seregil's jaw.
    "Are you certain you want him involved?" the wizard was saying.
    "Come on, Nysander! He's already involved up to the eyebrows, whether he knows it or not," Seregil retorted. "Besides, you wouldn't have let him stay here if you didn't already trust him."
    "Those are two separate issues," Nysander replied, giving Seregil a meaningful look. When the younger man maintained adamant silence, the wizard nodded gravely. "Very well. But the final decision is his to make." He looked up at Alec for the first time. "Would you become a Watcher, Alec?"
    A twinge of excitement shot through Alec. "Does that mean you both can tell me more of what's going on?" he asked, guessing the import of this strange exchange.
    "Certainly."
    "Then yes, I will."
    Seregil gave him a wink as Nysander took out his small ivory dagger and waved Alec to a chair.
    When he was seated, Nysander set the knife spinning end for end in the air mere inches from Alec's eyes.
    Alec's mouth went dry as he listened to the angry buzz the blade made as it flickered in front of him; he could feel the breeze of it against his face.
    "Alec of Kerry," Nysander intoned solemnly. "A Watcher must observe carefully, report truthfully, and keep the secrets that must be kept. Do you swear by your heart and eyes and by the Four to do these
    things?"
    "Yes," Alec answered quickly, steeling himself not to lean away from the spinning knife.
    "Good!" The knife fell out of the air into Nysander's hand.
    "That's it?" Alec exclaimed, falling back in his chair.
    "You answered truthfully," the wizard told him.
    "Had you lied, the result would have been rather more dramatic."
    "And considerably messier," Seregil added with a relieved grin.
    "Considerably," said Nysander. "And now, what have you to report, Seregil?"
    Seregil settled his shoulders more comfortably against the pillows. "When I left Rhнminee at the end of Rhythm, I took ship to Nanta and spent two days listening around the docks. Rumor had it that there were an unusual number of ships being refitted Plenimaran ports, Karia in particular. This confirmed what we already heard from Korbin.
    "Moving north, I poked around Boersby, learning that a delegation of Plenimaran merchants had stopped there a month to discuss overland trade routes. A contingent of fifty armed riders had continued inland in the direction of the Fishless Sea."
    "To what end?" asked Nysander. "There is little in those barren hills but a few nomadic tribes."
    Seregil shrugged. "There were all sorts of speculations. Apparently local men were hired on as guides and haven't been heard of since. If the mounted column did come south again, they came by a different route. Thinking they might have followed the Brilith River down toward the Woldesoke, I decided to check in with a friend at Ballton. There'd been no sightings in that area, but she said that similar parties had been seen to the east.
    "The word is that the lords of the various mountain demesnes are being visited, but nobody's certain of their purpose. It boded ill for Plenimar to be so far north, so I decided to work my way along the mountains and see what these riders had been up to.
    "If they went as far as Kerry, there wouldn't be much doubt that they were casting a greedy eye at the Gold Road again.
    "I was right, but quickly learned that the Plenimarans had left their new friends with a healthy distrust of strangers. Even as a bard, I had one or two difficulties before Asengai finally caught me. Not everyone was taken in, though. Lord Warkill and his sons gave them the air. Lord Nostor seems to have been noncommittal. My old friend Geriss had just died, and his widow, a Mycenian by birth, would have nothing to do with the envoys."
    "Lady Brytha? I knew her as a girl," remarked Nysander. "Her