He could discern few details about the two figures. They wore earth-colored clothes-it was only their movement that had drawn his attention-and they climbed with careful grace. Within a few minutes they disappeared from his view, but now at least he knew which way to go.

Renewed energy surged through his veins, and he started down the slope with almost reckless enthusiasm. A small rockslide of loose scree tumbled around him as his long strides sought purchase on the slope. In this fashion he half ran, half slid all the way to the bottom of the pass. His heart pounded with excitement, and he felt steady endurance solidify his muscles as he splashed through the narrow stream and started up the opposite incline.

The place where the thieves had disappeared was chiseled in his mind, and he wasted no effort looking upward. Instead, his reaching steps carried him along the rising slope of the rocky massif. Gradually he gained altitude, but only when he arrived at the foot of the rocky column did he begin to work his way straight upward.

Now sweat beaded across his forehead. His pulse pounded in his temples, and he drew lungfuls of air in deep, rejuvenating breaths. Ever upward he moved, instinctively seeking handholds and secure footing, pulling himself through a steady ascent.

Finally he reached the place where he had seen the two thieves. During his rapid pursuit, the sun had slipped behind the western peaks, and a shroud of dark shy;ness had begun to draw across the sky. Ariakas ceased his climb and began a careful, sideways traverse. Stars twinkled in the east as he came around the shoulder, moving with extreme care. A single misstep would send him sliding hundreds, perhaps thousands, of feet down the rocky slope, yet he felt the image of the lady calling him on. Focused on his objective, Ariakas sensed only a vague awareness of the dizzying height.

Soon he reached a gentler slope, and he started for shy;ward without pausing for rest. Yet even here he couldn't spare a hand to draw his sword-he could only hope that the thieves remained as blithely oblivious to pursuit as they had appeared throughout the day.

Finally he felt dirt below his feet, and with a measure of gratitude he left the rocky promontory behind. Dark shy;ness closed about him now, but he could discern a low valley before him, and an even darker patch that could only be a grove of hardy cedars-the first trees he had seen all day.

Fierce triumph surged through his veins; full proof of his quarry rose before him. Who would believe the thieves could be so arrogant, so careless, as to build for themselves a fire?

Chapter 2

A Fight Without Fear

Ariakas crouched behind thc shelter of a densely needled cedar and studied the layout of the thieves' camp. He saw one slender figure working over the fire, puttering with a pan. The unmistakable scent of frying bacon reached his nostrils, drawing an involuntary growl from his stomach.

He ignored the discomfort, pleased with the fact that the night vision of at least one of his enemies would be destroyed by looking into the bright coals. Ariakas shrugged out of his pack, looked around, and picked an approach route that led between several small, stunted pines.

Taking pains to keep the thief between himself and the fire, Ariakas ensured that his own eyes remained sensitive to the subtleties of darkness. The warrior could not see the cook's companion, but knew from snatches of conversation drifting on the breeze that the fellow remained near the fire. As yet he could not identify any words, though the voices struck him as cheerful and chatty-certainly not the sounds made by someone expecting trouble.

Carefully he crept closer, moving with stealth and patience, making sure that not a twig cracked under his heavy boots. It took him some time just to reach the next tree, but he felt certain that his quarry had no plans to move any farther tonight. As if in confirmation, the sec shy;ond thief emerged into view and tossed several dry cedar branches onto the fire.

Ariakas ducked away, covering his eyes before the bright flames crackled upward to wash the entire grove in cheery illumination. The blaze sizzled and popped, giving him an idea. He reached out and touched several brittle branches of a dead cedar, snapping them off while the noise of the fire camouflaged the sound of his own activity.

Again he moved forward, worming his way on his hands and knees, carefully feeling for obstacles before him. Within a few minutes he reached the ring of trees closest to the fire. Here he settled down to spy.

The cook still poked at the fire. As the second thief turned from rummaging in a pack, Ariakas got a look at his face and body. With a jolt of surprise he realized that he had been robbed by a kender, and the knowledge brought a grimace of disgust to his face. The fellow wore the supple traveling clothes of the diminutive folk, with his long hair in the characteristic pony tail hanging over his left shoulder. His walk was almost a skip, and Ariakas was reminded of the inherent grace he had seen as the pair had moved across the mountainside that afternoon.

A quick glance showed him that the cook was also a kender, with even longer hair than the first. With a wry shake of his head Ariakas ducked back to consider his course of action.

Naturally, this explained a lot. The stealthy movement and faint trail coupled with the childlike clumsiness of the footprints by the stream . . . the locket stolen, the swig of lavarum, all while he had slumbered a few feet away … and the decision to leave him alive. No decision at all, really-surely it had never occurred to the kender to do anything else. None of this changed the central fact, of course: they had stolen his treasure, and he had caught them.

His objectives were still the same. Only the approach had changed. His original plan had been straightfor shy;ward: frighten the thieves into producing the gem-studded object and then kill the leader in retribution and as an object lesson to the accomplice. However, he knew kender were utterly fearless-no intimidation, no bluff would produce the locket, or even an apology. Still, the little folk tended to be far more naive than the typical human thief. Perhaps he could trick them. If worse came to worst, he could kill them and find the treasure him shy;self.

His decision made, Ariakas stepped around the tree and walked up to the fire as if his appearance here were perfectly natural. His sword remained in its scabbard, while his left hand held the clump of dry pine branches behind his back.

"Oh, hello there," said the first kender, who had just joined the cook by the fire. "You're almost in time for supper!"

The second turned with no visible expression of sur shy;prise. Ariakas felt another jolt as he saw that this was a female. Delicate lines scored her slender face-a face that might have belonged to a young girl except for its creases of maturity. "Did you bring that lavarum?" she chirped. "That'll be the perfect thing with this bacon-potato goulash!"

Despite his preparation, the directness of her remark took Ariakas by surprise. "Yes-yes I did," he blurted after a moment.

"Say, that was good stuff!" agreed the male, amiably indicating a place by the fire for Ariakas to sit. "I'm Cornsilk Tethersmeet-and this is my friend, Keppli." The female bobbed her head, a welcoming smile on her face.

Suddenly the ridiculousness of the situation infuriated Ariakas. Disgust rose like bile in his throat. He cast away the brittle branches-he saw no need to night-blind the kender.

"Look," he declared, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "I've come to get my locket back-which one of you will get it for me?" His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword in none-too-subtle accent.