"A sorcerer?" Durnik asked unbelievingly.

"The word isn't one I'd choose," Wolf said. "It's a term used by men who don't understand that particular art. Instead let's call him `thief,' though there are a few other names I might call him which are far less kindly."

"Can we be certain that he'll make for the kingdoms of the Angaraks?" Silk asked, frowning. "If that's the case, wouldn't it be quicker to take a ship directly to Tol Honeth and pick up his trail on the South Caravan Route into Cthol Murgos?"

Wolf shook his head. "Better to stay with this trail now that we've found it. We don't know what he intends. Maybe he wants to keep the thing he's stolen for himself rather than deliver it over to the Grolims. He might even seek sanctuary in Nyissa."

"He couldn't do that without the connivance of Salmissra," Aunt Pol said.

"It wouldn't be the first time that the Queen of the Serpent People has tampered with things that are none of her concern," Wolf pointed out.

"If that turns out to be true," Aunt Pol said grimly, "I think I'll give myself the leisure to deal with the snake-woman permanently."

"It's too early to know," Wolf said. "Tomorrow we'll buy provisions and ferry across the river to Arendia. I'll take up the trail there. For the time being all we can do is follow that trail. Once we know for certain where it leads, we'll be able to consider our alternatives."

From the evening-darkened innyard outside there came suddenly the sound of many horses.

Barak stepped quickly to the window and glanced out.

"Soldiers," he said shortly.

"Here?" Silk said, also hurrying to the window.

"They appear to be from one of the king's regiments," Barak said. "They won't be interested in us," Aunt Pol said.

"Unless they aren't what they seem," Silk said. "Uniforms of one kind or another aren't that difficult to come by."

"They aren't Murgos," Barak said. "I'd recognize Murgos."

"Brill isn't a Murgo either," Silk said, staring down into the innyard.

"See if you can hear what they say," Wolf instructed.

Barak carefully opened one of the windows a crack, and the candles all flickered in the gust of icy wind. In the yard below the captain of the soldiers was speaking with the innkeeper.

"He's a man of somewhat more than medium height, with white hair and a short white beard. He may be traveling with some others."

"There's such a one here, your Honor," the innkeeper said dubiously, "but I'm sure he isn't the one you seek. This one is chief steward to the Duchess of Erat, who honors my inn with her presence."

"The Duchess of where?" the captain asked sharply.

"Of Erat," the innkeeper replied. "A most noble lady of great beauty and a commanding presence."

"I wonder if I might have a word with her Grace," the captain said, climbing down from his horse.

"I'll ask her if she will receive your Honor," the innkeeper replied.

Barak closed the window.

"I'll deal with this meddlesome captain," he said firmly.

"No," Wolf said. "He's got too many soldiers with him, and if they're who they seem to be, they're good men who haven't done us any harm."

"There's the back stairs," Silk suggested. "We could be three streets away before he reached our door."

"And if he stationed soldiers at the back of the inn?" Aunt Pol suggested. "What then? Since he's coming to speak with the Duchess of Erat, why don't we let the duchess deal with him?"

"What have you got in mind?" Wolf asked.

"If the rest of you stay out of sight, I'll speak with him," she said. "I should be able to put him off until morning. We can be across the river into Arendia before he comes back."

"Perhaps," Wolf said, "but this captain sounds like a determined man."

"I've dealt with determined men before," she said.

"We'll have to decide quickly," Silk said from the door. "He's on the stairs right now."

"We'll try it your way, Pol," Wolf said, opening the door to the next chamber.

"Garion," Aunt Pol said, "you stay here. A duchess wouldn't be unattended."

Wolf and the others quickly left the room.

"What do you want me to do, Aunt Pol?" Garion whispered.

"Just remember that you're my page, dear," she said, seating herself in a large chair near the center of the room and carefully arranging the folds of her gown. "Stand near my chair and try to look attentive. I'll take care of the rest."

"Yes, my Lady," Garion said.

The captain, when he arrived behind the innkeeper's knock, proved to be a tall, sober-looking man with penetrating gray eyes. Garion, trying his best to sound officious, requested the soldier's name and then turned to Aunt Pol.

"There's a Captain Brendig to see you, your Grace," he announced. "He says that it's a matter of importance."

Aunt Pol looked at him for a moment as if considering the request. "Oh, very well," she said finally. "Show him in."

Captain Brendig stepped into the room, and the innkeeper left hurriedly.

"Your Grace," the captain said, bowing deferentially to Aunt Pol.

"What is it, Captain?" she demanded.

"I would not trouble your Grace if my mission were not of such urgency," Brendig apologized. "My orders are directly from the king himself, and you of all people will know that we must defer to his wishes."

"I suppose I can spare you a few moments for the king's business," she said.

"There's a certain man the king wishes to have apprehended," Brendig said. "An elderly man with white hair and beard. I'm informed that you have such a one among your servants."

"Is the man a criminal?" she asked.

"The king didn't say so, your Grace," he told her. "I was only told that the man was to be seized and delivered to the palace at Sendarand, all who are with him as well."

"I am seldom at court," Aunt Pol said. "It's most unlikely that any of my servants would be of such interest to the king."

"Your Grace," Brendig said delicately, "in addition to my duties in one of the king's own regiments, I also have the honor to hold a baronetcy. I've been at court all my life and must confess that I've never seen you there. A lady of your striking appearance would not be soon forgotten."

Aunt Pol inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment of the compliment. "I suppose I should have guessed, my Lord Brendig," she said. "Your manners are not those of a common soldier."