Gomja glumly acquiesced. “Or Vandoorm, sir.” The word given, Teldin handed the two weapons over, but not without a twinge of dread.

As the giff took the last of the items, there was a clatter of rocks somewhere to the left. Vandoorm and the others, whom Teldin had been straining to overhear even as he gave up the pistols, suddenly stopped their conversation. The human froze in dread at the thought that they had been discovered. “Someone’s out there!” the mercenary captain hissed. “Brun, go right. I’ll draw his attention.” There was a soft footfall on the stone as the lieutenant moved out.

The bearded captain raised his voice in mock conversation, quickly shifting the topic away from his plans. Teldin ignored the distraction, trying to follow Brun’s motion. A black silhouette marked the stalker’s moves. The farmer tensed, one hand on his sword, ready to strike. Unwilling to turn away, he could only hope that the giff was staying out of sight.

Another louder clatter of rocks pulled Brun’s attention away. A dark shape burst from a hiding place to the left. Vandoorm and Brun both sprang after the fleeing shape, scrambling over the broken stones in pursuit. Teldin had the impression of a fleeting, reptilian shape before the creature fled out of sight.

“By damn, it’s a draconian!” the captain swore in surprise. He stopped chasing the beast. “Let it go. It won’t hurt us.” Brun hurled a few choice curses after the creature and gladly halted.

Teldin welcomed the distraction the creature had provided, since the mercenaries were now a good distance away, but it concerned him that a draconian had surfaced at all. Teldin quickly relocated his giff companion and began hustling from the area.

“Now, Gomja, we’re going to get out of here-without fighting. We’re not far from Palanthas, so we can get to the city on foot. Understand?” The last was not so much a question as an order.

“Yes, sir,” said the giff, but his voice showed that he remained unconvinced.

“Then let’s go, trooper,” Teldin ordered, giving the giff a gentle push to move out.

“I will never gain honor,” Gomja muttered bitterly as he set off to circle Vandoorm’s position. Fortunately their route was sheltered from Vandoorm ‘s view and the ground they crossed was free of obstruction.

Once beyond the enemy, Teldin moved more quickly, casting occasional glances over his shoulder toward the camp. So far, there was no indication that their absence had been discovered. Turning north, they set out at a steady pace on the road to Palanthas.

The air was even colder now and, to Teldin, there did not seem to be much point left in concealing the cloak. There was no one around to see it, after all. “Grow,” he willed. The black fabric, more gray in the darkness, billowed out with a faint rustle. Teldin caught the edges and wrapped it around himself. The thick cloth instantly warmed his skin, driving out the chill.

With Gomja in the lead, the pair kept moving on the road at a steady pace for about an hour. Both man and giff were alert and tense. Sooner or later the mercenaries were going to discover their absence. Teldin had no clue what would happen then. Perhaps nothing or perhaps something much worse. The uncertainty was an even greater strain than knowing for sure that pursuit followed.

Reaching a broad area where the road cut through a small stand of scrubby pine that spread from the brush-covered banks of the stream, Gomja suddenly came to an abrupt halt. “There’s something ahead. What do we do, sir?’’

Teldin bit his lip. “What is it?”

Gomja tilted his head and swiveled his ears, trying to make out the sound. “Voices, I think, sir, but I cannot be sure. It does not sound like Vandoorm’s men.

“Damn!” Teldin debated his options, but none of them were good. “We need to know more. Let’s get closer.” He gripped the cutlass even tighter than before. Maybe they would be lucky and the whole thing would be just more travelers camped for the night.

Gomja drew himself straighter. “Sir, this is not your duty. Let me go ahead and scout. I can see better in the dark than you,” the giff added to forestall Teldin’s objections. “I will come back and report what I find, sir.”

Teldin thought about it for only moment. “No-we do this together.” He had to see for himself.

The giff shrugged and carefully began to advance. Teldin followed behind. As they got closer, they could hear strange, sibilant voices. Whatever they were, they didn’t sound human, but they did sound familiar to the farmer. Teldin’s first thought, tinged with panic, was neogi, but these voices were different, not the same as those he had heard that night on his farm. He stopped to listen carefully. Gomja, not noticing Teldin’s halt, still kept advancing.

Then the source of the voices came to Teldin, filling him with a new fear. He’d heard these voices before-during the war. “Draconians!” he blurted out. Gomja was barely visible in the darkness ahead. “Gomja,” Teldin hissed. “Take cover!” Teldin had heard stories of draconian bands, left behind during the retreat, hiding out in the mountains ever since the war. He could only guess this was one group of such raiders, though he was surprised to find them still active after five years.

The giff reacted with instinctive speed, springing into action at his commander’s orders. Spotting a tangle of brush just large enough to conceal him, the giff waded into the middle of the thicket and squatted down.

Teldin, so concerned for Gomja’s safety, suddenly realized that he, too, needed to find cover. The bushes were out; they were barely large enough to conceal Gomja. On the verge of panic, Teldin frantically looked around for someplace to hide.

“Stop standing. Come!” hissed a voice from the darkness ahead.

Teldin froze in surprise and terror. Whatever it was-and it was probably draconian-Teldin was certain that the creature was talking to him. Yet, the thing was not raising an alarm; in fact, it did not even sound as if it were taking him prisoner.

“Faster, stupid baaz! You help search.” A darker shadow moved in the gloom toward the human. As it neared, Teldin saw that it was a draconian. The creature’s golden scales and bearded dragonlike muzzle identified it clearly as an aurak. It wore several layers of badly tattered robes over bent and rusting armor. Even in the darkness, Teldin could see they were caked with filth. In one hand the aurak held an ornately etched sword, the blade a fearful-looking series of teeth and curves. With its other hand it gestured toward Teldin, one long, nailed finger a pointing dagger aimed at Teldin. “You not search?” it hissed, slowly shifting the sword’s blade forward. “You not obey Trammaz?”

Teldin looked around him, still astonished that the thing hadn’t attacked him. There were no draconians in sight. Even Gomja was all but invisible. “Me?” he finally sputtered.

"Yes, yes-you, stupid baaz, you!” snarled the aurak. The draconian strode forward and seized Teldin by the arm, removing all doubt of whom it was addressing. The clawed fingers dug into his skin. The aurak, far stronger than a human, yanked Teldin and flung him forward. Almost falling, Teldin stumbled along, the aurak giving him an occasional shove to keep him moving. “You search for human now!”

Off to the side Teldin saw the bushes move, then part. Gomja, kneeling among the brambles, was carefully steadying his pistol, ready to take a shot at the aurak. One eye was on Teldin, waiting for the signal. The human hastily shook his head, warning the giff off. Teldin was curious. While the farmer had no idea how, the draconian apparently mistook Teldin for one of his own kind, and the human wanted to know more. The giff acknowledged the order but did not lower his pistol.

“Why are we searching?” Teldin asked. The draconian cocked his head, large catlike eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. Teldin suppressed feelings of panic. He’d clearly done something wrong, but he had no idea what it was.