Stalking Darkness

your scouts returned?”
    “Yes. They report no interference. We’ll make camp by late afternoon today and be well in place for the final ceremony tomorrow.”
    “The will of Seriamaius is with you, as always, my lord.” Irtuk studied the dark man’s comely profile. “I must say, you seem remarkably sanguine, given the death of Vargûl Ashnazai and the escapes last night.”
    Mardus shrugged eloquently. “Ashnazai brought his death on himself, despite all my warnings. Losing Alec was regrettable, though. What a remarkable young man.”
    “But the prisoners?”
    “My trackers say the Skalan raiding party numbered less than a dozen riders and that they fled east. No, the Helm will be restored and I shall serve Seriamaius as the
Vatharna.”
Mardus’ cold smile broadened perceptibly.“Not a shabby attainment for an Overlord’s unacknowledged bastard, eh?”
    “I have foreseen this day since you were a child at my knee,” the dyrmagnos said fondly. “Even now the young Overlord suspects nothing. When the time comes he will be forced to give place to you, his trusted half brother. With the Helm on your brow and the hand of Seriamaius over you, no one can contest your claim to the throne.”
    “And how is young Thero this morning?”
    Irtuk Beshar gave a dry, whispery laugh. “Subdued. Most subdued.”
    The second scouting patrol was larger. Watching from the shelter of several large boulders, Micum counted a dozen Plenimaran riders moving up the track toward the temple site.
    Stealing back to the salt pine, he found Nysander listening calmly to the scouts calling back and forth to one another as they spread out through the trees behind the site.
    “What are they saying?” whispered Micum.
    “From the sound of it, they are looking for a place for an encampment.”
    Before long the Plenimarans backtracked to a sloping meadow a quarter of a mile back the way they’d come. Micum and the wizard followed cautiously.
    “Looks like they’re settling in,” Micum said, watching as several soldiers set to work felling trees at the edge of the clearing. “And right in Seregil’s path, too. You can see the ledges from there.”
    “He must have seen them earlier,” Nysander replied, heading back to the pine shelter.
    “Let’s hope so,” Micum muttered. “I didn’t like the way he stormed out of here. You know, there’s nothing to do here just now. Maybe I should head out looking for him. Will you be safe?”
    Nysander smiled. “From that lot? Oh, yes. You go on.”
    Keeping behind the underbrush along the road, Micum passed the Plenimaran camp without being seen. From the cover of a fallen tree, he counted ten soldiers in the clearing. That left two unaccounted for.
    When he was well away from the camp he moved out onto the ledges and looked south for some sign of movement. Nysander had not been specific on how far away Alec was. Checking the sun, he guessed Seregil had been gone a little better than an hour.
    The incoming tide boomed against the rocks as he continued south. Another hour passed before he finally caught sight of two figures moving toward him in the distance. Though too far away still to make out details, he could see that Seregil was supporting Alec as they made their way unsteadily over a rocky stretch of shore.
    Seregil drew his sword at the sight of him, then sheathed it again as he recognized Micum.
    “By the Flame, we found you after all!” Micum exclaimed joyously as he reached them. Throwing an arm around Alec, Micum gave him a welcoming hug and helped him to a seat on a driftwood log. The boy was hollow-eyed with exhaustion, and dressed in Seregil’ boots, tunic, and cloak. “Are you all right? Where’s Thero?”
    “Dead or captured,” Alec told him, and Micum heard the strain in his voice.
    Seregil gave Micum a quick warning look. “Thero helped him escape. He’s had a rough time of it these last few weeks. We’ve still got a ways to go, Alec. Do you want to rest before we go on?”
    “No, let’s just keep going,” Alec replied. “Where’s Nysander?”
    “Don’t you worry about him. He’s safe. And by the Flame, so are you!” Micum said warmly, clasping Alec’s shoulder. “Bilairy’s Balls, Alec, I was afraid we’d lost you.”
    “Have the second group of scouts reached the place yet?” asked Seregil.
    “Two hours ago, I’d say. They staked out a camp just below the temple. I didn’t want the two of you running into them by accident, so I came out