"I still don't like this, Tihod. I've made no secret of the fact that I want this man dead, but losing you would be too high a price to pay for his life. If it seems that your encounter is going badly, get away from him as quickly as you can. I won't think ill of you for doing so."

"Don't worry," Tihod told him. "I don't want him killing me any more than you do."

"No," the Weaver said, "I don't suppose you do."

Tihod awoke with a start to a room still dark with night. He had no idea of the time, though he couldn't imagine that it was much past midnight. Still, he didn't feel tired, and while he wasn't one of Dusaan's servants, to drop all that he was doing and follow the Weaver's commands, he did recognize sound advice when he heard it. Best he start for Helke now and find Cadel before Grinsa and the boy did. Had he been in a larger citya"Duvenry, for instance, or Strempfara"he would have had to contend with a locked gate and guards who saw in every Qirsi a possible threat to their realm. But Krilde was too small a town for walls and guards. He could come and go as he chose. The innkeeper might think it strange that he was leaving at such an hour, but an extra five qinde would buy his silence.

In a few moments, he had dressed and was making his way down the tavern stairs and out into the warm night air. He didn't like being abroad at night, but the moons were still up, peering dully through the mist, shedding some light on the village and the surrounding country. And if his powers were enough to let him face a Weaver with confidence, certainly they were more than a match for any road brigands he might meet.

Soon Tihod was out of the village, following a winding, rutted mud road through the moors of the Wethy Crown. Under the red and white moons, the jumbled boulders and swaying grasses took on a ghostly quality, as if wraiths lurked behind each stone. The sky to the north flashed again and again with lightning, but the night remained silent save for the soft wind and the intermittent call of a distant owl.

He walked for several hours, pausing at dawn to pull a piece of dried meat from his travel sack and drink from a small spring by the road. With first light, he caught sight of Helke Castle, an austere ash-colored fortress that towered above the city of Helke. To the west he could see the waters of the Gulf of Kreanna, dark as a scar and dotted with whitecaps. The wind had begun to freshen, and Tihod smelled a storm brewing. It would rain later in the day. A sea captain knew such things.

By the time he reached the city walls, the gates had been opened, and though the guards at the south gate eyed him with the suspicion and contempt such men seemed to reserve for Qirsi travelers, they let him pass into the city without question. He went first to the marketplace, where he found a Qirsi peddler and asked about the Grey Seal.

"I hear it's a fine tavern," the man said, spreading his wares on the ground and pausing occasionally to examine his work with a critical eye. "Good food, excellent ale, and, as o' late, decent music as well. The cost is a bit dear, but tha' doesn't seem to stop them tha' goes there from fillin' themselves." He looked up, meeting Tihod's gaze. "It's no' one o' ours, though, cousin, despite the name."

Qirsi taverns and inns often bore names such as the White Dragon, or the Grey Falcon, as a way of letting Qirsi patrons know that they would be welcomed. They were, of course, free to spend their gold in any tavern, regardless of whether it was run by a Qirsi or an Eandi, but most Qirsi tended to limit themselves to those establishments run by others of their race.

"Yes, I had heard that," Tihod said. "I need to find someone there." Then, as an afterthought, he asked, "Is there an inn within the city walls where I might take a room?"

" 'Course there is. The Silver Whale, on the west side o' the city. Not far really from the Seal. Go t' the west end o' the marketplace, then follow the prior's lane toward the sanctuary. There'll be three narrow alleys on yer righta"the first will take ye t' the Seal, the second t' the Whale."

"Thank you, cousin." He began to fish into his pocket for a coin to give the man, but the peddler shook his head.

"It's bad luck t' take free coin before the first sale o' the day. Me father always said so." He grinned. "Now, if ye'd like t' buy somethin'. . ."

Tihod laughed, quickly picked out a Sanbiri blade that looked to be worth perhaps half the price the peddler was asking, and paid him five qinde extra for it.

"A wise purchase, cousin."

"Thank you," Tihod said. "With what I've paid, I expect you'll tell no one of our conversation."

The peddler began once more to arrange his goods. "I recall no conversation, cousin," he said absently.

Smiling, Tihod left the man and followed his directions to the Grey Seal.

The inn looked much as he had imagined it would: well tended, with polished wooden tables within and a fine bar made of oak and brass. The barkeep was an older man, grey-haired and stout, with thick arms and a full beard. He eyed Tihod warily as the merchant stood in the doorway, searching the tavern for Cadel. When Tihod didn't see the assassin, he stepped to the bar, placing a five-qinde piece on the smooth wood.

The barkeep glanced at the coin, but remained where he was. "I think perhaps you're in the wrong place, friend," he said, the word friend devoid of any warmth. "The Silver Whale is down the next lane from here. I believe you'd be more comfortable there."

"Thank you, friend," Tihod answered in the same tone. "I intend to take a room at the Whale. But I've heard that you serve a fine ale here, and I've heard as well that you have a singer who's worth hearing. I was hoping to speak with him."

"I haven't seen him today."

"That's all right. I've nowhere in particular I need to be. Why don't we start with that ale, then?" He sat, placing his travel sack on the stool beside him and making it clear that he had no intention of leaving the tavern anytime soon.

"It's a bit early for ale, isn't it?"

"I had a long night."

The barkeep stared at him for several moments before finally taking the five-qinde piece and filling a tankard. He started to make change from the gold piece, but Tihod stopped him.

"There's no telling how long I'll be here. We'll consider that payment for the next few ales."

The man frowned, then nodded and turned his back on the merchant, perhaps hoping to convince himself that Tihod wasn't actually there.

Tihod was still sipping this first alea"he had to admit that it was quite gooda"when he heard voices coming from the top of the tavern stairs. Glancing back, he saw three men, two of them were clearly brothers. They both had yellow hair, fair skin, and the same lean build. The third man, however, was tall and dark, broad in the shoulders, with long black hair, sharp pale eyes, and a beard. Looking closer, the merchant saw a scar on the side of the man's face. Judging from the descriptions he had heard of the assassin, he knew that this had to be Cadel.

He turned fully so that he was facing the men. Still, none of them appeared to notice him until they had reached the bottom of the stairway. Even then, the brothers gave him no more than a passing glance. But Cadel faltered when he saw him, the smile fleeing his lips, leaving a look as deadly as any blade the man might have carried.

The brothers halted as well.

"You all right, Corbin?" one of the brothers asked, looking from the singer to Tihod.

"Yes, fine," the singer said, never taking his eyes off the merchant.

"Why don't the two of you go ahead and eat? I'll be along shortly." The other men hesitated and Cadel looked at them at last, flashing a quick smile. "It's all right."

The two men moved off toward the back of the tavern, and Cadel approached Tihod, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.

"What is it you want?"

"We need to talk. Perhaps we should go somewhere more private."

"No. Here is fine."

"I disagree, Corbin." He put just the faintest emphasis on the name, but it was enough to make the assassin's eyes flick toward the brothers.

"Where?" Cadel asked, his voice thick.

"You tell me."

The singer exhaled through his teeth before walking back to where his friends were sitting and speaking with them briefly. Striding back toward the stairs, he cast a dark look at Tihod, and said simply, "Upstairs."

Tihod followed him to a small room with a single bed and a large chair. Cadel closed the door behind them, then whirled toward Tihod so suddenly that the merchant backed away.

"Now, who are you?" the assassin demanded. "And what do you want with me?"

"You may not believe this, Cadel, but I'm a friend. As to who I am, I won't give you a name, but I think you know already that I'm with the movement."

"I have no friends in the movement."

"I'm sorry to hear you say so. And here I came all this way, just to warn you that Lord Tavis of Curgh is on his way to Helke to kill you, along with a Qirsi companion who is a somewhat more formidable foe than the boy."

Cadel's eyes had widened slightly at the mention of Tavis. "How far are they from here?"

"They passed the night in Krilde."

The man shook his head. "I don't know Wethyrn very well."

"It's a small village about two leagues south of here. They should be reaching Helke today."

"Demons and fire."

"As it happens, I'm here to kill the Qirsi, so if you can take care of the boy, we should be able to eliminate this threat without too much difficulty."

Cadel regarded him with obvious mistrust. "And after that?"

"As it happens, I do have a small task that lends itself to your particular talents."

"No," he said shaking his head. "I don't work for you or your movement."

"You've taken our gold in the past."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It does to us."

"I'm a hired blade. I've taken gold from many people, but that doesn't mean that I work for them."

"We're willing to pay you a good deal for this, Cadel, more than we have for any previous work you've done on our behalf."

"That's nota""

"Three hundred qinde."

The assassin gaped at him. "Just who is it you want dead?"

"The king of Eibithar."

"You can't be serious," Cadel said with a small nervous laugh. "I'd have to be a fool to make an attempt on the king's life. Audun's Castlea""

"He won't be in the castle. He'll be riding to battle within the next turn. We aren't certain yet exactly where he'll be, but I would assume it will be the north coast of Eibithar, near Galdasten."

"He'll be surrounded by his army. He might as well still be in the castle."

"We didn't expect that this would be easy, Cadel. That's why we're paying you so handsomely."

He shook his head again. "No. I'm not doing this."

Tihod said nothing for several moments. He could tell that Cadel meant what he was sayinga"this wasn't some ploy intended to increase his pay. "Very well." He stepped past Cadel to the door. "I wonder how your friends downstairs will react to the news that you're not really a musician, but rather an assassin who's been killing nobles throughout the Forelands for the past eighteen years."

"I'll kill you if you go anywhere near them."

"No, I don't think you will. Have you ever seen what a shaper can do to a blade, or human bone for that matter?"

For a long time neither of them spoke. Tihod kept his back to the man, but he could sense Cadel's frustration, his rage, and, at last, his surrender.

"I'll help you kill the boy and his Qirsi friend."

Tihod released the door handle and turned. "That's a start."

"That's the end of it. We'll kill them, then part ways. Shaper or not, if you come near me again, I'll kill you."

"This isn't a matter for us to discuss right now. Let's just start by dealing with Grinsa and the boy."

Cadel stared at him, clearly unwilling to concede even this much. After a some time, however, he nodded. "Do they know to look for me here, as you did?"

"Yes."

"How is that possible? Have I been that careless?"

"They learned that you were at the Grey Seal from a peddler in Krilde who spoke highly of your singing."

"But how did they track me to Helke?"

"From a woman you knew in Ailwyck, who was looking for you as well."

"Kalida," he said, his voice as soft as a planting breeze. "She betrayed me?"

"I don't think she did so knowingly."

"Does she know . . . what I do?"

"I believe she does now."

He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head. "I'm a fool. It will follow me everywhere, won't it?"

"You mean the movement?"

The assassin shook his head. "Never mind. We'll take care of this matter, and then perhaps I'll take your gold after all. I seem to have little choice in the matter."

Tihod smiled at that. "Splendid!"

Bells began to ring from the city gates.

"Midday," the assassin said.

"Yes. They'll be here soon. We should prepare for their arrival."

Tavis and Grinsa entered the city of Helke an hour or two before the ringing of the prior's bells. The gleaner had made certain throughout the day's travel that no one followed them from Krilde, but at the same time he sensed that there had been no need for such caution. The feeling of being watched, even hunted, that had haunted him for the past several days had vanished completely. Rather than easing his mind, however, this only served to deepened his apprehension, as did the dark sky looming before him, and the distant, but unmistakable growl of thunder that now rode the wind.

Tavis was even more withdrawn than usual, his silence as ominous as the freshening wind and the smell of rain.

They walked through the marketplace, asking a Sanbiri trader there where they might find the Grey Seal. From there, they made their way to the western end of the city. Tavis was walking quickly and as they drew near the alley leading to the singer's tavern, Grinsa laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Slow down," he said, keeping his voice low. "This doesn't seem right."