Lanterns hanging from stout posts lent a cozy glow to the stable. The dusty smell of fresh straw hung thick in the wide passageway running in front of the stalls and pens. Men and women, some with their children along, had filled the walkway and in a few places spilled over into the empty pens, but now, after Richard had talked to the relatives of the men who had been killed, many had bid him a safe journey and started for their homes.

Dawn was still a couple of hours off. Despite the hour, there had been a number of people other than grieving relatives who had come to ask questions about the impending battle for their city. More people, sitting on hay bales, had watched from the loft but now many had started down the ladders. Richard supposed that they would be going back to bed to catch a little more sleep. He knew that their sleep would be troubled by worries about the soldiers marching toward their city.

Victor, standing nearby, looked grim after speaking about the bravery of his men and how much he would miss each of them.

Many people wept openly as they'd listened. Richard had known that nothing he could have said would have lifted their grief. He had done his best to make them understand what good men he thought they had been, and how much he cared for them. In the end, all he could really do was sympathize with their loss. He had felt helpless and useless, even though they had seemed to appreciate the things he'd said.

From the corner of his eye, Richard caught sight of Nicci and Cara as they came in the big doorway at the end of the stable. They had to ease their way among people who were leaving. He had been wondering where the two of them had gone to, but, surrounded by people all wanting to speak with him, he hadn't had a chance to go check. He'd figured that either they had wanted to let him have the time to talk to people, or else Cara had wanted to look around outside to make sure that all was well. Either way, he was glad to see their faces.

"So that's what you think, then, that this thing, this beast, that crashed through the walls of Ishaq's inn was after you?" an older man named Henden asked as he paused beside Richard. He held a pipe with a long curved stem in one hand, his elbow propped on a rail as he spoke.

The skin on his thin, leathery face sagged with the weight of years. Because he was older, and possessed a quiet, prudent manner, many in the crowd had deferred to his earlier questioning of Richard. Henden drew air in through his pipe and released aromatic clouds of smoke from the opposite side of his mouth as he waited for Richard's answer.

"Like I said, the evidence seems to point to it so I think it probably was. But whatever it was, it's likely that it was coming after me, so you can see why I think it's best if I leave now and not risk that thing coming after me again in the city and maybe causing harm to a lot of people here."

The man removed the pipe from his mouth and gestured toward Richard with the stem. "You mean like those men with Victor were harmed as a result of you being near?"

Victor stepped forward. "Now look here, Henden, it's not Lord Rahl's fault that evil people are trying to kill him. Those same evil people want to come here and kill us as well-beast or no beast. Would you be to blame if Jagang's soldiers coming to kill you happened to harm Lord Rahl on their way to get you?

"My men were fighting against the Imperial Order when they were cut down by something evil. That evil was spawned by the Order. They were fighting for a world for themselves and their families in which they could live their lives free and safe. They made the choice to do that rather than live in subjugation."

Henden chewed on the pipe's stem a moment as his placid eyes considered Victor. "Just asking. Only think it's reasonable to know what the situation is and what we're up against."

Richard saw heads among the men and women nodding.

"You're right, it is reasonable," he told the man before Victor could get any hotter. "I don't begrudge a man asking questions, especially where lives are concerned. But Victor is right as well. Jagang is intent on killing us all and, as I've told you, the Order needs to be stopped or none of us, no matter where we are, will ever be able to rest easy."

Richard saw Nicci slipping effortlessly through the press of people departing. Her flowing blond hair cascaded over the shoulders of a black dress. The dress, cut low with a laced bodice, showed off her shapely form to advantage. But it was her commanding presence that made her stand out like a queen in the throng. Cara, in her red leather, could have been the royal escort.

Richard felt a little uncomfortable at the way they both stared at him as if they hadn't seen him for a month.

Henden unexpectedly clapped Richard on the back of his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. The man spoke with the pipe clenched in his teeth.

"Safe journey, Lord Rahl. Thank you for everything you've done for us. We look forward to your return to the free city of Altur'Rang."

"Thanks," Richard said with a smile to the man.

Henden moved in with the flow of the others who were engaged in conversation as they made their way along the aisle and out the door. Richard had been relieved to see that these people understood what their freedom meant, and meant to keep it.

Ishaq, standing near Richard, waved his red hat at Nicci and Cara when he spotted them. "There you are," he called out. "Are you all right, mistress Cara? Richard told me you were safe, but I'm thankful to see it so with my own eyes."

Richard followed Ishaq as he rushed to meet the two women, beaming his pleasure at seeing them both.

"We're fine." Cara said. "I'm sorry about the damage to your inn."

Ishaq waved a hand, as if the matter were trivial. "It is nothing. Boards and plaster. Nothing at all. People can't so easily be fixed."

"You're right about that," Cara said as she met Richard's gaze.

Richard saw Jamila, standing on the other side of the passageway, scowl at Ishaq's dismissal of the importance of the damage to the inn, but she didn't say anything. She held the hand of a little girl as she leaned back against the wall near the big door, watching. By the girls round face, Richard thought that it had to be Jamila's daughter. The girl beamed an infectious smile at him and he couldn't help smiling back.

"Ishaq, I said that you should deduct the damage from what you owe me, and I meant it."

Ishaq replaced his hat. "Why you worry so? I told you, I fix."

Before Richard could answer, he heard a commotion just outside. Some of the men who had been patrolling the neighborhood came in the door dragging two big men with them. The two men, one with tangled, grimy strands of dark hair and the second with his hair cropped short, were both dressed in brown tunics similar to those worn by many of the people of the city.

Victor leaned closer to Richard and spoke under his breath. "Spies."

Richard didn't doubt it. He could see broad belts underneath the tunics that would probably have held weapons. With the Imperial Order soldiers getting close, they would have sent scouts ahead to gauge what they were going to be up against. Now that they were captives, it was possible that they might be prevailed upon to provide valuable information on the nature of the impending attack.

Despite their attempt to dress the part, the two looked out of place among the people of the city. The plain clothes they wore weren't quite large enough to fit their bulk. Neither was huge, nor were they massively muscular, but they had a well-honed, cool, resourceful demeanor. Both men kept silent, but their eyes were always on the move, surveying everything around them. They looked as dangerous as wolves among sheep.