Ruha urged her horse after Tombor. A steady clatter of crossbows sounded behind her as, one after the other, the warriors fired their weapons, then turned to follow the rest of the company through the gate.

The terrain outside Pros was surprisingly clear. Other than a few weed-choked farm plots lying close to the vil- lage stockade, the vista was one of grassy, rolling knolls, with a vast sapphire sky hanging so low it seemed they would ride into it. The muddy road snaked its way up a broad, dry valley, meandering back and forth around the base of the dome-shaped hills, gradually growing drier and dustier as it climbed away from the Dragonmere.

At last, the road curled around a knoll and angled up the headwall of a small dale. As the company approached the slope, the largest part of the column peeled off and circled the hill, leaving the wounded and those riding double, save the Lady Constable and Pierstar, to con- tinue up the main route.

Ruha caught up to Captain Fowler, and together they followed Vaerana to the back side of the knoll, where the warriors were dismounting and reloading their cross- bows. They dismounted and passed their reins to Tombor, who had been assigned to stay with the horse holders

and ready his healing spells. Vaerana cast a wary glance in Ruha's direction, but turned without comment and started up the slope. Fowler offered a helping hand to the witch, and they began to climb.

During the ascent, they had to pause several times to rest the witch's throbbing leg, giving them ample oppor- tunity to study the road to Elversult. After cresting the dale's headwall, it struck out as straight as an arrow across a broad expanse of flat, featureless tableland.

Already, the wounded riders and the sailors were a hun- dred yards across the plain, but the distance before them seemed immeasurable, and the witch could see that there were no knolls or ravines where the company of riders could hide while it regrouped and tended to its wounded.

By the time Ruha and Fowler reached the summit, the

Maces had already fallen to their bellies and crawled to positions overlooking the road below. Some of the men had wrapped small strips of oil-soaked cloth around the heads of their crossbow bolts and were preparing small piles of tinder to ignite with flint and steel. The witch made note of where the nearest fire would be, then she and Fowler crawled to the crest of the hill and laid down on either side of Vaerana.

"If we are setting an ambush, I have fire magic that will prove useful."

"I'd like to keep you secret, at least as much as pos- sible." As Vaerana spoke, she kept her hazel eyes fixed on the road. "Don't use your magic unless you're certain of getting them all."

"I cannot be certain. It depends how many they send."

"It'll be a bunch," Fowler said. "That arrow squall at the gate was no accident. They were waiting for us."

The suggestion drew an angry scowl from Vaerana.

She remained silent a long time, then reluctantly nod- ded. "I guess we weren't as sneaky as I thought. The Cult was watching us."

"How'd they know you were there?" Fowler asked.

Vaerana shrugged. "Pros is a small town, and we hadn't planned to be there four days. The Cult probably grew suspicious when they heard the innkeepers gossip- ing about all the strangers lolling about in their rooms."

"You are certain they do not have a spy among your men?" Ruha asked.

Vaerana frowned as though insulted. "Not among this bunch. Pierstar picked every man himself." She glanced down the long line of warriors as though confirming to herself that she was right. "Besides, I'm the only one who knew you were coming. A spy couldn't have told them anything except that I was in town."

"When Pierstar fell, their wizard tried to capture him."

Ruha observed. "Perhaps they were curious about what you wanted in their village."

"Not that curious," Vaerana retorted. "They've had a thousand gold coins on my head for two years. Their assassins wouldn't pass up that price out of curiosity."

"Speaking of prices," Fowler said, "a thousand gold ought to cover what you owe me when we get to Elver- suit."

"Owe you?" Vaerana narrowed her eyes and glared at the half-ore as though she were considering running a dagger up his belly. "Why do you think I owe you a thou- sand gold?"

"Because of my promise," Ruha explained. "I said the

Harpers would buy him a new cog."

Vaerana's eyes bulged. "You what?" she gasped.

"Why?"

"So he would attack the dragon," Ruha explained. "It was tearing another ship apart, and it was the only way to persuade him to risk the Storm Sprite."

The Lady Constable's mouth gaped open. "You can't…

you don't have the…" She let the sentence trail off, then shook her head and cocked her brow. "Did Storm say you could do that kind of thing?"

"No," Ruha admitted.

"But it was a Harper's promise." Fowler turned out the

collar of his tunic, displaying the pin Ruha had given him. "And I've got proof."

Vaerana stared at the silver harp and moon, shaking her head in disbelief. "You gave him your pin?"

"The ship was a very big one," Ruha said. "If I had let the dragon sink it, hundreds of lives would have been lost."

"If Captain Fowler was reluctant to attack the dragon, didn't you think it might be too much for the Storm

Sprite to handle?"

Ruha shook her head. "Of course not-not with my magic."

A purple cloud settled over Vaerana's face. "Witch, I

don't know where we're going to get the money to pay for a new cog-but I can tell you this much: it won't come from Elversult's treasury! Yanseldara would never stand for that, not for Storm Silverhand herself!"

Ruha turned to Fowler with a guilty knot in her stom- ach. "I am so terribly sorry. Captain. They told me that the Harpers always stand behind the word of-"

"What are you apologizing for?" Fowler interrupted.

"Didn't you hear her? Vaerana said we."

Ruha lifted her brow. "She did, did she not?" The witch looked back to Vaerana. "And I was beginning to think you did not like me."

"I don't, but you are a Harper-at least until Storm

Silverhand gets the bill for Fowler's new cog."

With that, Vaerana fell silent and looked back toward

Pros, searching for the first sign of pursuit. The Black

Caps were slow in coming, which Ruha took to be an omen both good and bad. On one hand, it suggested that the Maces' escape had taken the Cult by surprise, which would make it more difficult for them to pursue. At the same time, however, the delay also meant they were tak- ing the time to organize themselves and gather a large force.