"Even in the dark, it is too dangerous to move until the invaders are gone," Ruha countered. "We would have to travel along the ridge all the way to the bottom of the mountain. Sooner or later, somebody would see our silhouettes."

Both the widow and her young brother-in-law looked to Lander for his opinion. Before giving it, he glanced at the camp. Already, dusk had cloaked the site in purple shadows and the dark-robed Zhentarim had disappeared. The hundreds of campfires they had kept burning all day twinkled in the night like orange stars.

"We have plenty of water and milk," Lander said. "Let's stay one more day. If the Zhentarim know we're still here, they'll be expecting us to leave in the dark."

Ruha nodded. "I've been resting all day, so I'll take the first watch."

After telling the widow to wake them if she felt weak before her watch ended, Lander and Kadumi agreed, then went down to sleep near the camels.

The Harper did not wake until shortly after dawn. Ruha sat atop the ridge, and Kadumi was still lodged between the two boulders that he had claimed as his bed last night. Lander stretched his sore muscles, then climbed up the hill and sat next to the widow.

"You should have wakened me," he said, taking a healing potion from his pocket.

Ruha shrugged. "You seemed tired, and I had slept all day." She regarded the glass vial in his hand. "What's that?"

"A potion for my shoulder," Lander explained. He opened the vial and drank the bitter contents in one swallow.

"Magic?" Ruha asked, one eyebrow raised.

Lander made a sour face and nodded. "Nothing else could taste that bad."

The widow studied him with a shocked expression. "Don't let Kadumi see you drinking those," she said. "The Bedine think ill of those who use magic."

Lander grimaced at his blunder, then slipped the empty vial back into his pocket. "You don't think magic is wrong, do you?"

Ruha shook her head. "I understand, but no one else." She studied him with an uncertain expression in her eyes, then nodded her head as if making up her mind about something. "There is something I must tell you, but only if you swear not to tell Kadumi or anyone else."

"Of course," Lander replied, wondering what the widow would tell him that she would not tell one of her own people.

"Sometimes I see mirages from the future," Ruha began. "That is what happened yesterday, when you and Kadumi thought I was sun-sick."

Lander nodded. "It did seem odd that you were affected and not me. What did you see?"

Ruha looked away. "I'm not sure. Someone is going to try kill you," she said. "He will attack from behind, with a dagger. You will be wounded."

Lander raised his eyebrow, unsure of how to take the news. "You're sure?"

The widow met his gaze evenly. "It is my curse that what I see always happens."

"Could you see what he looked like?" Lander asked.

Ruha shook her head. "All I saw was a dagger slicing along your ribs. I don't know who was wielding it or what the outcome will be."

"Or when it will happen?"

The widow shook her head.

The warning did not frighten Lander, for he had long lived with the idea that the Zhentarim might try to assassinate him. Still, knowing that such a thing would occur- without knowing when or where-made him feel rather helpless. While sobering, the knowledge that such an attack would occur contained no hint as to what should be done about it-if, indeed, anything could.

"Thanks for the warning," Lander said. "I'll try to be careful about who I let behind me."

"It will do no good," Ruha said. "No matter what, you will be cut."

"At least you didn't see the dagger stuck in my heart," Lander said.

"I just thought you should know," Ruha replied. "I didn't say this to upset you."

"I know," the Harper replied, looking toward the base of the mountain and hoping to change the subject. In the growing dawn light, he saw a few wisps of smoke rising from a half-dozen dying fires, but otherwise the camp seemed empty and motionless. "Are they gone?"

Ruha nodded. "Their fires died last night, but I thought they had just fallen asleep. I didn't realize they were gone until nobody stirred with the dawn."

Lander studied the camp for a few minutes more. When he saw a vulture appear out of the east and drift straight into camp, he realized that there was no sign of the birds that had hovered below the ridge all day yesterday. The Zhentarim had, indeed, slipped away in the night.

"If the vultures are bold enough to land, then they're gone." The Harper called, "Kadumi, wake up! It's time to go."

As soon as the youth woke, the trio untethered the camels and led them down the mountain. By the time they reached the bottom, the sun had risen into the blue sky and the rosy morning light had faded to its usual white blaze. They paused at the spring to let the camels drink, then moved into the camp. Dozens of vultures took wing and hovered fifty feet overhead, watching the three companions with black, jealous eyes.

As at El Ma'ra, the invaders had razed all the khreimas, and the odor of singed camel-hair still hung thick in the air near the charred tents. There were Zhentarim fire rings everywhere, many of them still smoldering, and every combustible thing in camp had been burned. The entire area was littered with the hides and bones of half-eaten camels, and it appeared that even one or two dogs had been roasted.

The trio studied the ghastly scene in silence for several minutes before Ruha asked the question still troubling all three of them. "What happened to the bodies of the Mtair?"

Lander shook his head without speaking, then walked toward the edge of the camp. After picking up a waterskin to replace the one that had fallen off the mountainside with Kadumi's gelding, the widow and the youth followed with the camels. The companions soon found the spot where the Mtair warriors had made their stand. Crossbow quarrels, arrows, and broken-bladed weapons lay scattered along a quarter-mile battleline. Along the entire course, the sand was mottled with the brown stains of dried blood. Here and there lay camels or fleet-looking dogs unfortunate enough to have been caught in the crossfire, and Lander even found a golden jackal that had somehow gotten mixed up in the battle.

There were no human corpses. At El Ma'ra, the Zhentarim had taken care not to leave any of their dead behind, so Lander had not expected to discover any Black Robes or their reptilian mercenaries. On the other hand, he had expected to find the Mtair Dhafir's dead warriors. Instead, all he saw here were shredded abas, blood-stained keffiyehs, and discarded jambiyas.

"Look at this," Kadumi called, motioning for Lander to join him and Ruha.

The youth had discovered a trail of long, splayed-toed tracks. "Good work," Lander said, recognizing the footprints as those of the Zhentarim's mercenaries.

The trio followed the trail around to the north side of the mountain to a wadi they had not been able to see from their perch atop the ridge. As they approached the edge of the dry gulch, the thick odor of blood and entrails assaulted their nostrils, and all three of them nearly wretched. Lander motioned for the others to stand back, then stepped to the edge and peered down into the draw.

The bodies of the Mtair Dhafir lay scattered along the bed of the gulch, dozens of vultures feasting on their remains. If Lander was sickened by the desecrations of the scavenger birds, he was outraged by the mutilations that had been performed upon the bodies before the vultures began their grisly feast. The entire khowwan looked as though it had been attacked by man-eating beasts. The soft parts of their bodies had been ripped open and savaged as he had seen Sembian bears do to deer and other large game.