As Hadrian lay on his back, chained and stretched out in the mud, a shadow fell across his face and the rain stopped hitting him. He opened his eyes and, squinting, saw a man outlined in the morning light.

“What in Maribor’s name are you doing here?”

The voice was familiar and Hadrian struggled to see the face lost in the folds of a hooded robe. All around him, rain continued to pour, splashing the mud puddles and grass, forcing him to blink.

The figure standing over him shouted, “Sergeant! Explain what goes on here. Why is this man chained?”

Hadrian could hear boots slogging through the mud. “It’s Commander Parker’s orders, sir.” There was nervousness in his voice.

“I see. Tell me, Sergeant, do you enjoy being human?”

“What’s that, sir?”

“I asked if you liked the human form. For example, do you find it useful to have two hands and two legs?”

“I, ah—well, I don’t think I quite understand your meaning.”

“No, you don’t, but you will if this man isn’t freed immediately.”

“But, Lord Esrahaddon, I can’t. Commander Parker—”

“Leave Parker to me. Get those chains off him, get him out of that mud, and escort him to the house immediately, or I swear you’ll be walking on all fours within the hour, and for the rest of your life.”

“Wizards!” the sergeant grumbled after Esrahaddon had left him. He pulled a key from his belt and struggled to open the mud-caked locks. “Get up,” he ordered.

The sergeant led Hadrian back to the house. The chains were gone but his wrists were still bound by two iron manacles. Hadrian was cold and hungry and felt nearly drowned, but only one thought filled his mind as he watched the sun rising in the east.

Is there still time?

“And what about the wagons on the South Road?” Esrahaddon growled as Hadrian entered. The wizard stood in his familiar robe, which was, at that moment, gray and perfectly dry despite the heavy rain. Esrahaddon looked the same as he had in Dahlgren except for the length of his beard, which now reached to his chest, giving him a more wizardly appearance.

Parker was seated behind his table, a napkin tucked into his collar, another plate of ham and eggs before him.

Does he have the same meal brought to him each morning?

“It’s the mud. They can’t be moved, and I don’t appreciate—” He paused when he spotted Hadrian. “What’s going on? I ordered this man staked. Why are you bringing him here?”

“I ordered it,” Esrahaddon told him. “Sergeant, remove those restraints and fetch his weapons.”

“You?” Parker replied, stunned. “You are here only as an advisor. You forget I’m in command.”

“Of what?” the wizard asked. “A thousand lazy vagabonds? This was an army when I left. I come back and it’s a rabble.”