"Our attackers set off fire and loud noise on either side of the road, causing lots of stinging smoke. An archer took out the soldiers. I presume the same man killed Shorgan, though he died from a sword cut. I managed to get away with the prisoner but only as far as here. See the twine over there?" he asked, pointing.
Loethar squinted at the tree. "Another old trick."
"I was pinned beneath my horse long enough that they could get the priest. I hope he's dead. He certainly looked to be."
"Who is this priest? Who would set up an ambush to retrieve him from you?"
"I'm asking myself the same thing," Stracker growled. "There were only two of them by my reckoning but they were good. Fast, ruthless. These were not peasants trying to rescue a priest. These were well-trained men, adept at ambush. They headed straight for the woods, even though it would have been much faster for them to ride straight down here and lose themselves at the next parting of the roads."
"But they chose the harder, slower route. Because it could hide them, presumably," Loethar finished.
"One of them is carrying a man on his back. Granted, he was a big fellow but he's going to be moving slowly all the same once they get off those horses. The animals won't be able to go very much higher."
Loethar looked up, his gaze narrowing. "Tell me about the priest."
"Vulpan knows him better than I do."
Vulpan straightened. Rubbing gingerly at his shoulder he told his emperor all he knew of Pastor Jeves.
"A man of magic?" Loethar queried.
"That's what I tasted, my lord," Vulpan replied, slightly defensively.
"So he is Vested, chasing his sister who is Vested, who is married to the man we know as Kirin, who is also Vested and just happened to be traveling with Freath, who is now dead."
"That's the sum of it, brother," Stracker said, hauling himself shakily to his feet. "We have to find the horses. Bah, but my head hurts."
Loethar began to pace. Vulpan licked his parched lips, reaching for the cast-aside water sack, while Stracker ignored them both.
"This was no priest," Loethar said.
Stracker laughed. "Why do you think I was taking him north? I didn't trust him for a moment."
Vulpan suddenly spat out water.
Both men turned. "What's got into you?" Stracker demanded.
"Oh, Lo! My lord, forgive me."
Loethar frowned. "Well, speak up, man. What's wrong?"
"I..." Vulpan hesitated, wide-eyed and clearly frightened.
Loethar took a step forward and Vulpan cringed. "Please, my lord, I'm sorry. It all happened so fast. I fell off my horse, men were being killed. It's only now I...Forgive me."
Loethar grabbed Vulpan by the shirtfront and hauled him forward. "What do you need to tell me?" he said slowly, quietly.
Vulpan's fear intensified; his face slackened and drained of color. "The taste of a man's blood has just come back to me."
Loethar gripped him tighter. Vulpan was clearly struggling to breathe. "Whose?" he demanded.
Vulpan pointed at his throat and Loethar flung him away. The Vested yelped as he hit the ground.
"Whose?" Loethar asked again, looming over the man.
"The archer. He was the man whose blood was found on the boulder."
The half-brothers stared at each other. "That was Kilt Faris?" Stracker queried. "I never saw him properly, curse him!"
"We can't be sure," Loethar warned. "But it seems the priest was valuable to him or his men. The archer, describe him."
"I can't, my lord, I really didn't get a look at him," Vulpan quailed. "My magic is not about vision. It's about presence. The man whose blood I tasted was definitely here."
Stracker looked away from Vulpan with disgust. "He was young, I know that much. Sandy-haired. Clean shaven."
Loethar scowled. "Too young for Faris, then, by our estimates. So he was one of Faris's band. Do we have any descriptions of Faris?"
Stracker shook his head. "People whose palms we've laid money into, who claim to have met him, describe him differently. One minute dark-haired, the next he's fair or bald. The man's a starren."
At the mention of the color-changing six-legged reptile from the plains Stracker's and Loethar's gazes met and locked. "Perhaps you actually had the infamous Kilt Faris in your grasp, Stracker," Loethar said.
The big man nodded, his dirt-stained tatua twisted with disappointment. "Perhaps I did. Has there ever been mention that Faris is Vested?"
"Not to my knowledge," Loethar admitted. "But we know the Vested like to keep their powers secret. What was his skill?"
Vulpan spoke up. "He claimed to predict the weather."
Loethar smiled grimly. "We know that's