White Road

at the marks on his arm and leg, matching them against those on the document, then waved them on. Seregil gathered the bags, using his cloak to mask his movements as he tried to kick the knife out of sight between two nearby barrels stacked against a wall, but it had landed point-out and he nearly skewered his foot. One of the curved guards caught between the barrels, leaving most of the thing in plain sight.
    “Come on, you!” Micum ordered roughly, cuffing Seregil on the ear. Seregil scuttled quickly under his arm to join the others on the far side of the gate. They were out, free and—
    “Hold on there!” one of the guards called after them. “You, trader.”
    Micum shot Seregil a tense look, then settled his features into a look of mild impatience as he turned back. “Yes, what is it?”
    The guard waved them back, and Seregil’s heart sank as the man held out the knife. “Is this yours?”
    “It is!” Micum exclaimed without missing a beat as he felt at his belt in surprise. “Sakor’s Flame!”
    The guard glanced back at his companions. “Told you the slave was up to something.” Then, to Micum, “You were too hasty with your dog, there. He was trying to fetch it for you.”
    Micum looked at Seregil. “Is that so?”
    Seregil bowed his head and nodded mutely.
    Micum patted his head roughly, as if he were a dog, then pushed him off toward the others again. “Thank you, Sergeant. That was a gift from my late wife. I’d have been sorry to lose it.”
    “Glad to help, trader. Good journey to you! Take care on the road. Say, where are you headed at this early hour?”
    Can’t you just let us go?
Seregil thought furiously.
    “Oh, I’ve got a friend up the road with a warm bed waiting. I meant to be off earlier, but luck was with me at a gaming table,” Micum told him with a chuckle. He threw back his cloak, showing off his sword and Alec’s bow. “And I fear no man on the road, or off it.”
    The guard grinned and waved him on. “Good luck to you then.”
    The four of them walked on in silence for some time, until Rieser finally broke the silence. “You are an accomplished liar, Micum Cavish.”
    Micum grinned. “Many thanks.”
    There was no time for complacency, though, knowing that word of them was likely to spread fast, given the bounty. They walked on, passing by houses and hamlets, and then farmsteads. It was dangerously close to dawn now; the houses were dark, but farm householders were notoriously early risers. Coming across one at last with horses in a corral, Seregil went in first to deal with the dogs; then they helped themselves. As they were leading them away, however, a man suddenly shouted behind them and they heard the sound of several people running in their direction. As one they sprang onto their horses’ backs, grabbed them by the manes, and kicked them into a gallop down the road, followed by cries of “Thief!” And, before too much longer, the sound of more horses galloping after them.
    “It’s going to be a damn poor end to this journey if we end up hanged for horse thieves,” Micum shouted to the others.
    “Rhal should be back,” Alec noted. “If we can just get there—”
    If
. Seregil tried not to think about what that turnip farmer had told them.
    Suddenly he heard a horse scream and looked back over his shoulder just in time to see Rieser’s horse throw him and stagger off on a broken leg.
    Alec happened to be the hindmost and saw Rieser’s horse step in the rabbit hole and founder. Rieser was on his feet already. Reining in, Alec gave the man a hand up. Rieser took it and sprang up behind him, then grasped the back of Alec’s shirt as he galloped off after the others. Not a word of thanks, of course.
    Micum was in the lead now, and Alec leaned over his mount’s neck, urging it on to catch up. Seregil was looking back, gesturing for him to hurry. Alec checked back over his shoulder and saw the farmer and his men gaining on his more heavily laden horse.
    “Oh, Illior, give this horse wings,” he muttered, then started as he saw the foremost rider fall, then another. Micum had stopped and was shooting, his eye as sharp and his hand steady as Alec’s. One by one, he picked off the lead riders until the rest turned tail and rode back the way they’d come.
    Alec let out a triumphant whoop and urged his horse on to reach the others as Rieser clung on behind. “It’s about time someone used that bow!” he called out with a laugh.
    Micum slung it