Aral started to rise.
Trebilcock pulled him down. "Hey! Come on!"
"One of them just left."
Michael peered at the house. The man who had gone inside was on the porch, watching the lane. One of his henchmen was running toward town.
"Okay. Follow him. But don't bother him. Let him do whatever he wants. I'll stick to this one."
"Where should we meet?"
"They'll get together again. When they do, so will we. If they don't, I guess we'll meet at your place."
"Right." Dantice scampered along the backside of the hedge where they had hidden. He was built so low that keeping down wasn't difficult.
A woman and boy joined the man on the porch.
The fat man's wife, Michael thought. The boy must be his son.
The woman said something. She seemed nervous. The man nodded. She ducked inside, returned with a bundle. All three hastened along the lane.
Trebilcock crept along behind the hedge, waiting for the third man to act. Nepanthe seemed extremely upset, though she was accompanying the man by choice. She was sneaking away, and was afraid someone would notice.
"That dark guy must've done some fancy talking," Trebilcock muttered.
The third man then followed Nepanthe and her escort once they rounded a bend. When he had made the same turn, Michael went back to the road. He kept his head down. He was passingthe Marshall's home. A half-do/en soldiers were there, and might....
"Hey! Michael!"
"Damnit!" It was one of the Horse Guards he bummed with. For once in his life he wished he didn't have so many friends. "'Lo, Tie. How goes it?"
"Fine. Except I think they're getting carried away trying to find things for us to do. Squaring away the Marshall's house, you know what I mean? He's got a wife, he's got a maid and butler and all. Don't seem right...."
So. The word wasn't out. "That's a shame. But you could be out riding around the Gudbrandsdal in the rain."
"You got it. I don't complain to the sergeant. He'd come up with something like that."
"I'd like to hang around and see what's happening, Tie, but I've got a job."
"You?"
"Sure. Not much. Running messages for the Marshall's secretary. But he expects me to get them moved."
"Yeah. All right. Catch you later. Why don't you plop in at the Kit 'N Kettle tonight? Got some girls from Arsen Street coming down.... But don't bring that chunky guy. What's his name? Dantice. He busted the place up last time."
"Okay. I'll see. If Prataxis don't keep me running."
"What's with that guy anyway, Mike?"
Trebilcock glanced up the lane. How far ahead were they? "Aral? Don't mind him, Tie. He isn't so bad when you get to know him. Hey. I've got to go."
"Sure. See you later."
Trebilcock walked briskly till his soldier-friend could no longer see him. Then he jogged, glancing down the cross lanes to make sure they hadn't turned aside.
Fie hoped they were headed back to their inn. In Aral's part of town they would be easier to trail.
Luck was with him. That was their destination, and he picked up the rear guard in West Market Street, which was packed with shoppers.
He found Dantice lounging around outside his father's place. That, for Aral, was a near career. "What happened?"
"Not a damned thing. The guy came back to the inn. The others just showed up."
"What're they up to?"
"Mike, I don't know. You're the one playing spy. Ho! Hang on. Here's the first one again."
A dusky man had come to the inn door leading a half-dozen horses.
"Oh-oh," Trebilcock muttered. "What do we do now?"
"How should I know? You're the brains."
"Aral, they're leaving town. I never thought of that. I just thought.... Never mind. Here." He slapped a gold piece into Dantice's hand. "Get us a couple horses. Some food and stuff. I'm going to talk to your father."
"Are you crazy?"
"Come on. Why not?"
"You're nuts. All right. You straighten it with the old man."
"Right. Yes. Come on. Hurry. We'll lose them."
"I'm going."
Trebilcock slammed through the door of the Dantice establishment, knocking the bell off its mounting. "Mr. Dantice! Mr. Dantice!"
The older Dantice came from the little office where he kept his accounts. "Hello, Michael. How are you?"
"Mr. Dantice, I need some money. All the money you can give me. Here." He seized pen and paper. "I'll write you a letter of credit. You can take it to Pleskau Brothers. They handle my finances in Vorgreberg."
"Michael, boy, calm down. What's this all about?"
"Mr. Dantice! Hurry!" Trebilcock raced to the door, peeped out. Nepanthe, Ethrian, and the dark men were mounting up. "There's no time. They're leaving. I'm doing a job for the Marshall. I've got to have money. I'm going out of town."
"But...."
"Isn't my credit good?"
"The best." The old man scratched the back of his head. "I just don't understand...."
"I'll explain when we get back. Just give me what you can." He wrote hastily, leaving a blank for the amount.
Puzzled, but wanting to help his son's friend-whom he thought a bit strange, but felt to be a good influence- Dantice retrieved his cash box from hiding.
"Michael, I don't have much here today.'Bout fifteen nobles, and change."
"That's good. Whatever. We'll only be gone a couple days. It's just so we can eat on the way." He flung himself to the dooragain. "Hurry. They're almost gone. Come on, Aral. Where are you?"
"Twelve and seven. That's all I can spare, Michael. I have to keep some just in case...."
"Fine. Fine. Ten is plenty, really. If I can't get by....." He signed the credit for ten nobles, scooped coins as fast as the older man could count them out. "Thanks, Mr. Dantice. You're a gem." He kissed the old man.
"Michael!"
"Hey, we'll see you in a few days."
He whipped out the door. Aral was just coming with the horses. "They're all Trego had left."
"We'll switch later. You see where they headed?"
"Up the street. If they leave town, they'll have to use a gate. Different than the west one, right? From here that means the east or south."
"But which? Never mind. Let's see if we can catch up."
They made no friends that day, pushing through the streets the way they did, as if they were the Nordmen of old. They caught Nepanthe's party as it turned into the Palace Road, which ran straight to the east gate.
"Got them now," Trebilcock enthused. "We can swing around and get ahead."
"Why not just pass them?"
"The woman knows me."
"Whatever. You're the boss. What'd the old man say when you told him?"
"What?"
"That I'm going off with you. He's still trying to dump those account books on me."
"Oh, hell. I clean forgot, Aral."
"You didn't tell him?"
"I was too busy trying to get some money."
"Well, he'll live. He's used to me taking off for a couple days whenever I find me a new slut."
But this adventure would last longer than either expected.
Their path wound eastward, through Forbeck and Savernake provinces, often by circuitous routes. The group they tracked avoided all human contact. The two expended a lot of ingenuity maintaining contact while escaping notice.
"They're sure in a hurry," Aral grumped the third morning.
He hadn't complained yet, but his behind was killing him. He wasn't accustomed to long days in the saddle.
"Don't worry. They'll slow down. You'll outlast the woman and boy."
Michael picked the right note. There was no way Aral Dantice was going to be outdone by a kid and a broad in her forties.
Michael finally realized they were getting in deep after they passed Baxendala at night and were approaching Maisak, the last stronghold of Kavelin, high in the Savernake Gap.
There, between Maisak and Baxendala, stood several memorials of the civil war. It was said that broken swords and bones could still be found all through the area.