Stalking Darkness

drifted over to join the knot of guards and servants who’d gathered around it. Sitting in the cart in wet clothes had chilled him through. Leaning close to the fire, he ignored the curious glances his sword and filthy clothes attracted.
    A few minutes later he saw Micum stride into the bailey. He was dressed in a fine coat and furs, and looked rather harried.
    “Someone looking for me?” he called out.
    “Me, sir,” Alec said, reluctantly leaving the brazier.
    “What is it then?” Micum asked impatiently. He stopped, recognizing Alec as he came closer. “By the Flame—!”
    “Greetings, Sir Micum,” Alec said, covering a discreet warninggesture with a bow. “Is there someplace we could speak privately?”
    Taking Alec by the arm, Micum drew him into the stable. Grabbing a horse blanket from a nearby stall, he handed it to Alec.
    “What happened to you?” he whispered. “And what are you doing here of all places?”
    Alec pulled the smelly blanket around him gratefully and sat down on an upended bucket with his back against a post. “It’s a long story,” he sighed. “I ran into a bandit on the hill track—”
    “The hill track. What possessed you to come that way this time of year?”
    Alec cut him short with a weary gesture. “Believe me, I won’t do it again.”
    “And you were attacked by bandits. Were you on foot?”
    “As a matter of fact, no. I borrowed a fresh mount at Watermead, and they took it. That is, she took it, his woman. I killed the man—Anyway, I’ll pay you for the horse and I’ll need another to get home from here. But that’s not what I came to tell you. Seregil and Nysander think the four of us—them, you and I—may be mixed up in some sort of prophecy having to do with the Eater of Death and that wooden coin we found up in Wolde.”
    Micum looked less surprised than Alec had expected. “After what I saw up in the Fens, that makes some sense. But what have we got to do with it?”
    Alec told him what Nysander had revealed, his own dreams, and the possible connections between the coin and the Plenimarans.
    Micum listened without comment. When Alec finished, he shook his head slowly. “These Illiorans and their dreams. You mean to tell me that he sent you clear up here by yourself in this weather just to tell me that something bad might happen and that he’s not even certain what it is?”
    “Well, yes. But Seregil says he thinks Nysander’s not telling us everything yet, and that he seems genuinely worried.”
    “If Nysander’s worried, then we’d do well to pay heed. But first we need to get you into some dry clothes. I’ll wager you haven’t eaten all day, either. Come on in.”
    “I’d better not,” Alec said. “Seregil didn’t want Kari or anyone to see me up here like this.”
    “All right, then. You wait here and I’ll bring things out. Stay put.”
    Micum returned quickly with a bundle of clothes and a mug of steaming soup, a hunk of fresh bread balanced on top.
    “Strip off those wet things,” he ordered.
    Alec pulled off his coat and shirt, anxious to get into warm clothes. As he was about to pull on the thick tunic Micum had brought him, the man let out a low whistle and touched a finger to a long
purple
bruise darkening across Alec’s left shoulder.
    “Fetched you a good one, didn’t he?”
    “I was lucky; he was aiming for my head. My arm’s fine, though.” Pulling on the tunic and breeches, he wrapped his hands around the hot mug and took a sip of the thick, steamy broth. “Maker’s Mercy, that’s good! So, about that horse? I mean to go back tonight.”
    Micum’s heavy red brows drew together ominously. “Now look here, Alec. You’re hurt, tired, and chilled through and it’s already starting to get dark. Stay here tonight and get an early start in the morning.”
    “I know I should, but I can’t. Seregil’s trying to track down some Plenimaran spies, and he may need my help.”
Whether he knows it or not
, he added mentally. It wasn’t exactly lying to Micum. Not exactly.
    Micum looked like he was about to argue the point, but then he just shook his head and said gruffly, “All right then. I can’t force you. I’ve got a horse you can take if you promise to stick to the road and not go gallivanting around through the woods with it in the dark!”
    Alec grinned as he clasped his friend’s hand. “You have my word on it.”
    Alec saddled Micum’s Aurënfaie black quickly, not wanting to give him time to