The Dragon's Path

snow.
    Deep scores and marks marred the surface of the ice. Poking out just at ankle height, something black and square. He squatted, brushing the snow away. A box, half drowned in recently cut ice and then covered over. And others beside it, all of them crusted over with thin ice and hidden by the carefully arranged snowdrift. He looked up. The girl carter was standing now, craning her neck to see him, her hands knotted at her belly. Geder took out his knife and forced the latch. Topaz, jade, emerald, pearl, gold and silver filigree as delicate as frost. Geder pulled back like the gems had stung him, and then, as he understood what he was seeing, felt a sunrise in his chest, relief and pleasure rushing through him, unknotting his muscles and bringing a grin to his face.
    He’d done it. He’d found the missing caravan and the hidden wealth of Vanai. No more of Geder Palliako, the expendable idiot. No more apologizing for what he liked to read or the roundness of his belly. Oh, no. His name would be carried back to Camnipol and King Simeon on a carriage of gold by horses with rubies on their reins. He would be the talk of the court, praised and honored and celebrated in the highest circles of the kingdom.
    Except, of course, that he wouldn’t. The name that would be celebrated in Camnipol was Alan Klin’s.
    Alan Klin, who’d humiliated him. Who’d burned his book.
    Geder took a long, deep breath, let it out slowly, and closed the lid. A moment later, he opened it again, dug two double handfuls of gems out, and poured them down his shirt. The lovely little stones gathered around his belly where his belt cinched tight. He closed his jacket to cover the lumps, lowered the lid again, and scraped the snow back over it. Ashe stood, a wide, black joy filled him and made his first pleasure seem weak. When he walked back to the carts, he didn’t need to remind himself to hold his head high. The girl watched him approach. Geder grinned at her like he was greeting an old friend or a lover. An accomplice. Briefly, he lifted a single finger to his lips.
Don’t tell.
    The girl’s eyes went wide. Half a breath later she nodded, only once.
I won’t.
He could have kissed her.
    When he found his second, the Timzinae had finished leading the common soldiers through the mill house. Geder noticed that the conversation among the soldiers stopped when he walked in the room, but this time it didn’t bother him. The interior of the house smelled of mold and smoke, and the signs of the caravan’s night in the shelter marked the stones of the flooring. A broom leaned against the far wall. Its head was wet, and a thin puddle of water darkened the stones beneath it. Geder pointedly ignored it.
    “What have you found?” he asked.
    “Nothing, my lord,” the second said.
    “We’re wasting time here,” Geder said. “Gather the men. We should move on.”
    The second looked around. One of the soldiers—a young Timzinae with black scales that shone like he’d polished them—shrugged.
    “My lord, we haven’t turned the basement. If you’d like—”
    “Do you really think there’s a point to it?” Geder asked. When the second didn’t reply at once: “Honestly.”
    “Honestly, no.”
    “Then let’s get the men together and go.”
    The caravan master, sitting on a stool, made a rough impatient noise in the back of his throat. Geder turned to him.
    “On behalf of empire and king, I apologize for this inconvenience,” he said with a bow.
    “Think nothing of it,” the ’van master said sourly.
    Outside, the soldiers fell into position as they had every time before. Geder lifted himself to his own saddle carefully. His belt held. The gems and jewels dug at his skin, pinching a little at his sides. None fell out. The caravan guards watched with well-feigned lack of interest as Geder drew his sword in salute, turned his horse, and moved forward at a gentle walk. With every step they took away from the caravan, he felt his spine relax. The sun, already sliding down toward the horizon, half blinded him, and he craned his neck, counting the soldiers behind him to make sure no one had doubled back or been left behind. None had.
    At the top of the ridge, Geder paused. His second came to his side.
    “We can make camp at the same place as last night, my lord,” he said. “Strike out south and west in the morning.”
    Geder shook his head. “East,” he said.
    “Lord?”
    “Let’s go east,” Geder said. “Gilea’s not