For just a moment Par felt the hair on the back of his neck
prickle in warning.
Then Padishar Creel was greeting them, cheerful and reas-
suring. “Ah, young Par and his brother.” He beckoned them
onto benches with the others, made quick introductions, and
said, “We are going after the Sword tomorrow at dawn.”
“Where is it?” Par wanted to know at once.
The outlaw chief’s smile broadened. “Where it won’t get
away from us.”
Par glanced at Coil.
“The less said about where we’re going, the better the chance
of keeping it a secret.” The big man winked.
“Is there some reason we need to keep it a secret?” Morgan
Leah asked quietly.
The outlaw chief shrugged. “No reason out of the ordinary.
But I am always cautious when I make plans to leave the Jut.”
His eyes were hard. “Humor me, Highlander.”
Morgan held his gaze and said nothing. “Seven of us will
go,” the other continued smoothly. “Stasas, Drutt, Blue, and
myself from the camp, the Valemen and the Highlander from
without.” Protests were already starting from the mouths of the
others and he moved quickly to squelch them. “Chandos, you’ll
be in charge of the Jut in my absence. I want to leave someone
behind I can depend upon. Hirehone, your place is back in
Varfleet, keeping an eye on things there. Besides, you’d have
trouble explaining yourself if you were spotted where we’re go-
ing.
“As for you, my Eastland friends,” he spoke now to Steff
and Teel, “I would take you if I could. But Dwarves outside the
Eastland are bound to draw attention, and we can’t be having
that. It’s risky enough allowing the Valemen to come along with
the Seekers still looking for them, but it’s their quest.”
“Ours as well now, Padishar,” Steff pointed out daddy. “We
have come a long way to be part of this. We don’t relish being
left behind. Perhaps a disguise?”
“A disguise would be seen through, particularly where we
are going,” the outlaw chief answered, shaking his head. “You
are a resourceful fellow, Steff-but we can take no chances on
this outing.”
“There’s a city and people involved, I take it?”
“There is.”
The Dwarf studied him hard. “I would be most upset if there
were games being played here at our expense.”
There was a growl of warning from the outlaws, but Padishar
Creel silenced it instantly. “So would I,” he replied, and his
gaze locked on the Dwarf.
Steff held that gaze for a long moment. Then he glanced
briefly at Teel and nodded. “Very well. We’ll wait.”
The outlaw chief’s eyes swept the table. “We’ll leave at first
light and be gone about a week. If we’re gone longer than that,
chances are we won’t be coming back. Are there any ques-
tions?”
No one spoke. Padishar Creel gave them a dazzling smile.
“A drink, then? Outside with the others, so they can give us a
toast and a wish for success! Up, lads, and strength to us who
go to brave the lion in his den!”
He went out into the night, the others following. Morgan and
the Valemen trailed, shuffling along thoughtfully.
“The lion in his den, eh?” Morgan muttered half to himself.
“I wonder what he means by that?”
Par and Coil glanced at each other. Neither was certain that
they wanted to know.
Par spent a restless night, plagued by dreams and anxieties
that fragmented his sleep and left him bleary-eyed with the com-
ing of dawn. He rose with Coil and Morgan to find Padishar
Creel and his companions already awake and in the midst of
their breakfast. The outlaw chief had shed his scarlet clothing
in favor of the less conspicuous green and brown woodsmen’s
garb worn by his men. The Valemen and the Highlander hurried
to dress and eat, shivering a bit from the night’s lingering chill.
Steff and Teel joined them, wordless shadows hunkered down
next to the cooking fire. When the meal was consumed, the
seven strapped on their backpacks and walked to the edge of the
bluff. The sun was creeping into view above the eastern horizon,
its early light a mix of gold and silver against the fading dark.