Because of the terrain and the deepening snow, the mage had insisted they abandon the wagons and take only what they could carry, such as food and camp supplies. Would the ruse still hold when put to the test?

Without the wagons—the traveling would be too slow in Nelothar—most everyone carried their own supplies.

Falan pulled his cloak tighter as a gust of wind hit him. The blizzard was not raging, but the snow fell thickly. Falan strained to see farther than twenty paces ahead as the column made its way up the mountainous road. He glanced toward the mage and her handmaiden. Lady Casen seemed not at all at odds with the weather. Surely she was using her power to shield herself from the cold. Leisa, however, wore a thick cloak. She was shivering.

Falan thought he had heard heated whispers from the mage. Something about, “Packing correctly for cold weather travel next time.”

Leisa jumped when he touched her slumped shoulder, though readily accepted the fur he held out in his hand with a word of thanks.

He turned to the mage. “What are you after?” He had forgotten to use any honorifics.

The woman seemed to take no notice. “You will know when we find it.”

He noticed the conspicuous absence of the usual “sir” when she usually addressed him. His lips quirked into smile. “Why is it so important not to tell us...? Lady mage?”

She raised an eyebrow. “The less who know about what we are after, the better, Master Serafe.”

He smiled again. Master Serafe now? Falan found himself eyeing a lock of dark hair that had slipped out the mage’s cowl. She glanced at him, noticed what he was looking at, and pulled her cowl further over her face. She was very pretty. “Do mage’s marry?” Was he really asking his employer such questions?

“Many mages do not think on such things,” Leisa blurted, cheeks reddening as the mage arched an eyebrow.

The lady mage said nothing and continued looking ahead into the thick blanket of snow. Finally she said, “Many prefer not to marry.”

He did not expect her to reply after that remark Leisa had made.

“The work of a mage leaves little time for anything else.” She glanced at Leisa with what seemed to be a knowing look. “A wife has her duties, as does a mage—a woman can hardly do both.” The mage seemed to be addressing Leisa. “Marriage is not frivolous. But being a mage is another calling.”

“But you said—“

The lady mage raised a hand, cutting the younger woman off. “I know what I said, child. We all have our places—know yours.”

Leisa, now even more abashed, pulled her cowl further over her head, glanced at the tracks in the snow beside her horse.

“So then, some of them do marry?” Falan asked again.

The lady mage shrugged slightly. “Very few. But yes, some do marry. Why do you ask, sir?”

Falan could not tell if the slight face she made was annoyance or just a grimace against the cold. “No reason,” he said carefully. “I just wanted...” He trailed off as a mounted figure appeared ahead.

“Captain,” the soldier called when he got closer, a large plume of frosted breath leaving his icy beard. What was the man’s name?

“What is it, Sen?” the captain asked, voice alert as he stepped forward. “What did you see?”

“A patrol, Captain. Not a mile off.”

Sorela turned to the captain, her eyes wide.

“We have to get off the road,” Falan said. He glanced behind him to see Serin sitting straight in his saddle, ready for anything. The others—the other hirelings and the captain’s men alike—seemed to be on their guard as well.

“Let them come,” Brassen said hoarsely. Yeisel smiled a toothy smile of crooked teeth.

The stable boy rode up. “What about our disguise?”

Leisa turned to the young man. “We left everything at the border. They wouldn’t believe us if we really were a merchant caravan.”

“The Serafe is right, my lady,” Thalus said quietly. The mage nodded and the captain turned to address the column. “Everyone, on me. We ride into the mountains.” He made his way directly off the road and into the thick forest of tall evergreens.

“They will track us,” Serin said, “even if we work to obscure our trail, there’s too many of us to do it properly, and not enough time, besides.”

Thalus’ tracks were already partially obscured. Maybe they would get lucky. The lady mage and Leisa followed the captain, disturbing the snow once more. Serin was right, but maybe that patrol would mistake the tracks for a herd of horncows by the time they got here. Not likely. Not if a single one of those men were experienced trackers. They were... The men of the north were capable, even during a blizzard. It was wishful thinking to hope.

“I know,” Falan finally said, then booted his horse toward the hills and trees.