Between the spurts and blows of the weather, the General’s scouts reported that Rile’s cavalry now advanced beside the marching infantrymen. Hearing that, Klamath felt his heart tighten in his chest. His army was too near the enemy to escape if the cavalrymen charged.

Fortunately, the wide plain where he and his people had rested had given way to a region of rumpled hills, rocky outcroppings, and valleys like ravines. He did not know this stretch of Belleger, but he welcomed it. On terrain like this, a retreating army had one advantage over a vastly superior force: it could surprise the enemy. Grinding his teeth, General Klamath used the cover of the hills and the constriction of the valleys to do as much harm as possible.

Even at this distance, the Decimates of fire and lightning discouraged Rile’s cavalry. Hidden riflemen punished the reduced throng of skirmishers whenever the small men probed closer. In the narrower ravines, the Decimate of earthquake dropped rock-slides. Yet Magister Solace and his pestilence-wielders proved to be Klamath’s best defense. The priests could block bullets. They could disperse bolts of lightning and deflect whips of fire. For some reason, however, their power had less effect on the Decimate of pestilence. Magister Solace’s comrades left pools of disease behind them, pools that lingered until the Great God’s soldiers marched or rode through them. Then both men and beasts sickened. Many of them died.

Apparently, these tactics taught Rile a measure of caution. He protected his forces by keeping his distance.

When the weather permitted the Farsighted to watch again, the General’s army was no more than a day west of the desert.

From the rise where he sat his horse, Klamath was able to see the teeth of the Wall Mountains rising along the eastern horizon. Clad in ice and snow, they caught the early sunlight and shone. By that sign, he knew that the desert was near.

In his grim, weary fashion, he was looking forward to it. He imagined that his Magisters would make the dunes deadly to the enemy.

Nevertheless he was a man who worried, and he had a new concern. Concealed by bad weather, an increasing number of priests had joined the vanguard of Rile’s army. The brilliance of their globes made them easy to spot. Klamath had no idea why the enemy needed so much sorcery, but the possibilities alarmed him.

He clung to his hopes, and urged his forces, and kept moving.

When Queen Estie spoke in his mind, the shock almost knocked him out of his saddle.

Klamath. She spoke softly, but her voice was unmistakable. My friend. I must warn you.

He listened like a man transfixed, unaware of Captain Rowt at his side, afraid to miss a word.