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Chapters (58)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Part Two: Three Months Later
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-one
  27. Part Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-two
  29. Chapter Twenty-three
  30. Chapter Twenty-four
  31. Chapter Twenty-five
  32. Chapter Twenty-six
  33. Chapter Twenty-seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-one
  38. Chapter Thirty-two
  39. Chapter Thirty-three
  40. Chapter Thirty-four
  41. Chapter Thirty-five
  42. Chapter Thirty-six
  43. Chapter Thirty-seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-nine
  46. Chapter Forty
  47. Chapter Forty-one
  48. Chapter Forty-two
  49. Chapter Forty-three
  50. Chapter Forty-four
  51. Chapter Forty-five
  52. Chapter Forty-six
  53. Chapter Forty-seven
  54. Chapter Forty-eight
  55. Epilogue
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. About the Author
  58. Keep Reading for a Sneak Peek at Umbertouched

“What is it?” I ask.

“Do you have anything to heal burn scars?”

Chapter Fifteen

Scouting work’s never been my favorite. Too much time crawling on my belly, too many opportunities for small, sharp rocks to work themselves into my loincloth.

From my vantage point above the Rovenni camp, I see they’re having a good run at the market. The size of the herd has dwindled since the last time I saw it, though they’ve kept their most impressive stallions and mares. This time I’m much more careful about getting caught. I keep my ears sharp and my birds playing sentry. Somehow, I doubt the Rovenni would believe my innocence if they caught me again. Once or twice, my crow caws, and I scramble from my hiding place and move somewhere else.

It’s late evening and I’ve been here since before noon. Dinner’s been cooked, passed out, and eaten by the fifty-two members I counted, and the camp is starting to wind down. Some people disappear into large square tents, while others prepare to take the first watch for the night. I see Nush heading out to sleep with the horses. One of the mares is finicky, and he flashes the brand on his arm so she sees it, and whispers in her ear. The mare calms down, and Nush goes on to check on the others.

Who would have guessed that he was right about me? I do want to steal something from them. It’s just not what he thought.

I wait until everything goes still, when the last person has gone into the tents and no one else emerges. Carefully, I creep toward the camp.

Getting down between the tents undetected isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. You can tell what a rich man values by where he places his guards, and most of the Rovenni sentries watch the horses. I’m sure there’s gold in the camp too, spread out in different places if they’re smart, but the traders don’t seem to worry nearly as much about losing it. They’d be angry if someone walked off with their coin. Steal one of their foals though, and you’ll be a marked man for life.

I creep past the outer ring of tents, the ones where most of the people retired for the night. The supply tents are in the middle, larger than the sleeping tents and with less snoring coming from within. I know the cooking pots come from the center tent, and some bridles and horseshoes went into the tent next to it. Well, it makes sense that horse equipment would be stored together. I lift the flap and duck in.