Traitor's Moon

boots over stone, then the echo of voices. Judging by the amount of noise they were making, they were searching blind, not realizing how close they were to their quarry.
    He couldn’t see them yet but knew it would be impossible to get the horses away without being heard. With Alec wounded, fighting was not an attractive option, especially since he couldn’t tell how many men there were. What he didn’t hear were more horses.
    Crawling over to Alec, Seregil gently covered his friend’s mouth. Alec came awake silently.
    â€œHow’s the leg?”
    Alec flexed it and grimaced. “Stiff.”
    â€œCompany’s on the way. I’d rather run than fight, if you can ride.”
    â€œJust help me up into the saddle.”
    Grabbing the blankets and sen’gai, Seregil wrapped his free arm around Alec’s waist and helped him down to the horses. He could feel the younger man wince with every step, butAlec made no complaint. By the time Seregil had mounted his own horse, Alec had his bow and quiver slung ready over his shoulders.
    By now they could both hear snatches of their pursuers’ conversation.
    â€œGo!” Seregil ordered.
    Alec kicked his horse into a gallop and sprang away. Close behind, Seregil hazarded a backward look and made out a few dark shapes down the trail, men on foot.
    They got away clean, but soon had to slow down again. As Nyal had warned, the trail skirted precipices and in places was just wide enough for a single horse to pass. Fresh blood was seeping through Alec’s trouser leg, but there was no time to stop.
    They left their pursuers behind but kept a sharp eye out for another ambush ahead. By the time they reached the summit, just before midday, both were tense and sweating. From here, the land fell away sharply, affording them a clear view of the patched and rumpled sweep of Gedre fai’thast and the pale expanse of sea beyond.
    â€œI’d better have a look at that leg before we go on,” Seregil said, dismounting. “Can you get down?”
    Alec leaned heavily on his saddlebow, breathing raggedly. “If I do, I may not be able to get back on.”
    â€œStay there, then.” Seregil found the flask of painkiller in Alec’s saddlebag. Pressing that and the last of the bread into his hands, Seregil set about cutting away the bandage Nyal had put on.
    â€œYou’re lucky,” he muttered, rinsing away the crusted blood. “It’s just seeping. The wound seems to be closing up on its own.”
    He tore strips from his shirt and bound the leg up again.
    â€œHow much longer?” Alec asked, finishing off the bread as Seregil worked.
    â€œBy late afternoon, if we don’t meet any more trouble along the way.” Seregil scanned the distant coast, searching for a familiar bend in the shoreline and finding it. “That’s where we’re headed. This trail of Nyal’s has brought us out closer than mine would have.”
    He squinted at the horizon, wondering if Korathan’s vessels were faster than he’d guessed, or if the following wind blew stronger—
    Alec shifted his leg in the stirrup, looking worried again. “I know Riagil is a friend of your family, and I like the man, but he’s also the Akhendi’s ally. What if he’s looking for us, too?”
    Seregil had been avoiding that thought all morning, remembering instead that first bittersweet night in Aurënen, when he’d stood with Riagil in the moon garden, sharing good memories of the past. “We’ll keep out of sight as much as we can.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Thero glanced up from the scroll he’d been reading, then threw it aside and jumped to his feet. Klia’s eyes were open.
    â€œMy lady, you’re awake!” he exclaimed, bending anxiously over her. “Can you hear me?”
    Klia stared dully at the ceiling, giving no sign that she understood.
    O Illior, let this be a sign for the better and not the worse!
he prayed, and sent a summoning to Mydri.
    Coming down out of the mountains, Seregil and Alec avoided the roads and skirted well clear of the scattered villages.
    Shadows were lengthening toward nightfall by the time they came within sight of the sea again. Chancing the road at last, Seregil led the way to the edge of a little fishing village called Halfmoon Cove. The locals had always done a thriving trade with smugglers, including a good many