"Either that, or the giants walk the land again. No, she's Davarigon all right. I've seen her kind once before near Hell's Gates."

"And she's with two men. Set men?"

"Seems so. One's injured. She's helping him. The other man is ranging ahead of them. I could be mistaken but he's looking up all the time toward us. It's as if he knows we're watching."

"He wants to be spotted?"

Dorv shrugged. "Just my interpretation."

"Grab a few of the boys. We might just head them off. If they do mention us, bring them back here. I need to know what they know and why. I'm going to check on Kilt and Jewd."

Dorv nodded and disappeared. Tern sighed and reached for his quiver, strapping it onto his back. He picked up the bow and followed Dorv and a few others down to the incline, curious but also concerned.

Loethar was quietly wondering to himself how much worse the pain could get. When he was young he'd taught himself to set pain aside. It took immense concentration and when he was first acquiring the skill he'd had to find a trance-like state. Nowadays he could achieve the introspection he needed at will; he still practiced what the Wikken called "spirit focus" frequently, so the ability to find that special state of mind was always available to him. He used it to divert pain, fear, even sorrow, believing that his spirit was a separate entity from his body and that it could pull away from the mortal framework to avoid the repercussions of unpleasantness-physical or mental.

But on this occasion he was not winning. He stopped to take some deep breaths; that usually helped. "Carry on," he said to the others, "I just need a moment."

Gavriel doubled back. "Not likely, Loethar." He withdrew a blade from a belt around his hip. "I'm not letting you out of our sight."

Loethar grimaced. "I have nowhere to stumble to. You'd be upon me in a heartbeat."

"You can believe that."

"Besides, only brandish that knife if you're prepared to use it, boy."

"Boy?" Gavriel laughed. "Once, perhaps, barbarian. A long time ago I might have inwardly quailed at your threat. But never again. Be very assured I'm not only prepared to use this knife, but I'm looking for an excuse to. By all means, give me one."

Loethar could see the man-who, indeed, was certainly far from a boy-meant every word. The way his jaw ground told him de Vis was fighting his inclinations to kill him with every step of their journey. Despite his precarious situation he liked de Vis; liked his passion, his loyalty. Especially he admired his control. A lesser man would have gone for the transient plea sure of plunging his blade into his enemy but de Vis was exercising wisdom over heart right now, and that spoke droves for any man-young or old.

"Gav, hush!" Elka suddenly hissed. "Someone's coming."

As she said her final word, men melted out of the shadows, bows strung taut, arrows nocked. Loethar couldn't believe they hadn't spotted them until now; they were so close.

Elka immediately stepped in front of her two companions, reaching behind her for her bow.

"Don't. We'll kill you before you can even bring your bow to the front," one of the men cautioned. Elka paused. "You," he added, nodding at Gavriel. "Drop the dagger. And you," he said, back to Elka, "remove that bow-carefully-and throw it over here."

Elka did as she was instructed. Gavriel hesitated. "We're looking for Kilt Faris. I am-"

An arrow sped out of the trees and landed perfectly between his feet, cutting off his words.

The man smiled. "The next one's in your gut if you don't obey."

"They're not going to kill us," Loethar said conversationally, "or they would have done so. Look at their eyes. Dispassionate. They intend to question us."

"Drop the blade!" the man commanded again.

"Don't, de Vis," Loethar said "Let's see what they do then." He looked at Gavriel and winked and knew he'd struck a chord with the man, whose expression showed a glimmer of amusement.

Ah, a risk taker, Loethar realized. He liked de Vis all the more.

"Gavriel, do as they say," Elka demanded.

Gavriel shook his head, looked over at the leader. "Make me. I didn't come here to create any trouble. I just need to find-"

The sound of the arrow being loosed cut off his words. Loethar yelped as the arrow embedded itself into his chest, just below the left shoulder. Gavriel yelled and Elka began to move but once again the calm leader got their attention.

"Leave him!" he commanded. "Next one's for you," he said to Gavriel. "And then a third will kill your wounded companion," he added nodding at Loethar, who was lying on the ground.

"Animals!" Gavriel cursed. He ignored the warning and bent down to Loethar.

Loethar grinned at him. "Told you they don't intend to kill us. But, de Vis, don't enrage them any more, eh? I'm near dead now. Another word would probably do it and I think you want to give Leonel that satisfaction." He groaned and was surprised to see the consternation on de Vis's face.

The men of the forest surrounded them. "Pick him up," the man commanded Gavriel and Elka. "Follow us."

Kilt's strength had ebbed in synchrony with the dying sun, and he was now being helped along by Jewd, having turned down the help of Leo's shoulder. He was just managing to put one foot in front of the other. The sun was low but he remained optimistic that it would still be light when they hit the camp.

"You're serious, aren't you? Magic!" Leo said, half-scoffing, half-amazed as he loped along in front of them.

"There is no other way, Leo," Kilt said, breathing rapidly to help the pain. "We can't raise a credible army of fighters. A rabble of protesters, perhaps, filled with loyalist farmers or older men who still remember the glory days of Penraven. But a fit, well-trained army is beyond us."

"But the Vested are-"

"Listen to me," Kilt said, his vexation rising in tandem with the frustration of his injuries and his pain. "No one has ever thought to unite the Vested."

"Until Loethar."

"That's right. Until Loethar." He gave a resigned sigh. "We might all hate him but the man is clever. Everything he does, he does with intelligence and cunning, even down to reinventing himself as the magnanimous emperor. And it's because of his cunning and intelligence that your people now see him as a man to be looked up to...he'll be remembered as a great ruler, I'm sure. So it's up to you, Leo. If you want to put a Valisar on that throne, you're going to have to show cunning and intelligence to match. You have no army and you have no prospects of raising one that can even begin to rival what he has in place. His men are tough and well trained and you know Stracker maintains the army to a very high level."

"What makes you think the Vested can achieve what we need?"

"I don't. But the Vested are an unknown quantity with powers perhaps even they don't realize. None of us know what their magic can achieve, and while individually some of them are impressive, imagine all that individual power combined. Who knows how that power could be channeled?"

Leo nodded. "I'd never thought of it like that."

"No," Kilt said, less aggressively, "but your nemesis has. He's way ahead of any of us. But what he doesn't know is that you live and flourish and that if he can unite the Vested, so can you. Most of the Vested are now being carted off against their will to Barronel. They will be unhappy, hopefully angry. If we can infiltrate them, we can unite them."

"How do you propose to do that?"

Kilt hesitated, and Jewd came to the rescue. "Stop yabbering, Kilt. You become heavier by the moment. Just support yourself and walk, Lo rot you!"

Leo looked over Kilt's bent head. "That's a bit rough, Jewd."

"Listen, let's just get him safely to the camp. Then I'll stop worrying, all right?"

Kilt glanced Jewd's way and smiled his thanks. He hoped he and his big friend were never separated again; it seemed he needed Jewd more than he'd realized.

It was Leo who heard them first. "They've found us!" he called, plea sure oozing from his voice.

Both his companions looked up. Kilt had never been so pleased to see Tern in his life. The man wore a wide grin.

"Any sign of Lily?" were Kilt's first words.

Tern shook his head. "I'm sorry, Kilt, nothing on Lily. But we have got company." He slung Kilt's arm on his shoulder, taking over from Jewd. "Hello, Leo, Jewd. Good to have you back."

"What company?" Kilt growled.

"We don't know," Tern admitted. "Two men and a woman who looks like one of the Davarigons. One of the men looks to be injured."

"What are they doing here?" Kilt asked, not protesting as the men made him lift his legs so they could move him faster up the hill in a sort of chair fashioned from their arms. "Lo, I feel ridiculous."

"Shut up, Kilt, let's just get out of the open and into the camp's cover," Jewd rumbled, striding alongside. "Are they being discouraged?" he said to Tern.

"Dorv's gone down to meet them. The problem is they seem to be making straight for us, as though they know where to find us."

"Which direction are they coming from?"

"From town."

"What orders have you given Dorv?" Kilt demanded.

"To feel them out. If he can dissuade them from their path, he will. Otherwise, he'll bring them close to the camp."

"Bah! So much for our secret place."

Jewd gave Tern a look that said just tolerate his bad humor.

Elka, Gavriel and Loethar were left under the shade of a huge old fir. "Wait here, until we say otherwise," Dorv said, turning to leave. "The men have orders to shoot if you so much as look at them the wrong way. I suggest you don't test us."

"Listen, I've been down this path before," Gavriel began, feeling as though he was living his last arrival into this camp all over again. "Tell Kilt Faris-"

"I suggest you tend to your friend and stop worrying about giving me orders. That arrow needs to come out and it won't be pretty."

Dorv left them with five men watching them.

Gavriel swung around angrily.

"Why didn't you tell them who you are?" Elka asked.

"Because apart from not having the chance, it's meaningless. I don't recognize any of them and, besides, I suspect the name de Vis is long forgotten."

"Don't you be so sure of it," Loethar wheezed from the ground. "I haven't forgotten it and you can be sure Kilt Faris would know it."

Gavriel shook his head. "I'm playing it safe. I'd rather tell Faris to his face who I am and who I have with me. I don't want to give that information to his minions. We don't even know if Faris is alive or still in charge."

"Both, I reckon," Loethar said, groaning and reaching for his shoulder.

"Don't touch it," Elka warned. "That needs proper care. I'm going to ask for some stuff."

"They won't give it," Gavriel said sourly. "But don't touch it anyway, Loethar. If Lily is still here, she can work wonders with her potions. Best to let her tend to your injuries."

Loethar smiled. "I'm touched by your concern, de Vis."

"Don't be," Gavriel growled self-consciously. "Just want you strong enough to meet your true enemy."

"I can't wait."

Elka began to move but an arrow landed to block her path. She stopped and glared at the man who'd loosed it.

"Another into your thigh if you move again," he warned.

"I want to ask for some supplies to help him," she said, pointing at Loethar.

"Just be patient," he said. "Be still. Drink the water we've left you and remain silent until we receive our orders."

"Told you," Gavriel said. "I've done this before. These are not sympathetic men."

"You said they were loyal."

"Yes, loyal to the rule of Kilt Faris...and then Valisar, in their own twisted way. But the king of the forest is Faris."

The trio were given an enthusiastic welcome from the men but Kilt, drained and weakened as he was, wanted to know about the strangers, with no time for celebration. "What do we know?" Kilt asked Dorv, relieved to be back in familiar surrounds but wincing through the pain. He kept imagining how wonderful it would be if Lily bustled out of the trees, hurling anger at him for being stupid enough to get caught and injured.

"The younger of the two men, strangely enough, is the leader. The other one is injured, badly enough that they've been helping him. The younger is a noble for sure, by the way he speaks, but curiously he moves with the surety of a tracker. He's no soft noble and doesn't look to me like he's straight from the city. He's sunbrowned. The older one baits him. I think-I could be wrong-but this older one seems to be a prisoner. They are not revealing much."

"And there's definitely a Davarigon with them?" Kilt asked.

Dorv nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"No doubt. I've seen Davarigons once before. She's tall and broad, and her skins and weapons are all of the mountain people."

"What an odd mix," Kilt said, frowning. "All right. Where have you got them?"

"Half a mile away." Dorv pointed.

"Right, let's go."

"Wait, Kilt," Jewd said. "There's no need for you-"

Kilt glared at his friend. "Find me some of Lily's restorative, Tern, would you? Jewd, help me down to where the strangers are. That's an order."

Jewd sighed. "You heard him," he said to the men.

"Leo, you wait here. We can't risk your being seen."

"Not on your life! I'll hang back, but I'm not skulking here, afraid of my own shadow. I warned you, Kilt-"