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sneak into his quarters; Nermesa would only prove himself foolhardy if he assumed that just as surprising an incident might not occur the short distance to the fort.
    Two stalwart soldiers who could have passed for Captain Dante’s brothers flanked the Aquilonian as he proceeded back. Nermesa did not speak to the guards, his thoughts on the night’s events. He could not help wonder exactly who had sought his life and if they knew what he carried. According to King Conan and the general, the papers were of the utmost importance to Count Trocero, but nobody would have known exactly why save the ruler of Poitain and Nermesa’s superiors. It almost seemed likely that, whoever the knight’s assailant had been, he had merely made the correct assumption that, whatever was inside the pouch had to be of some value to someone. Thieves had stolen for much-less-significant reasons.
    That still did not answer the question as to how he had infiltrated a reasonably well-guarded garrison. Gundermen were trusted for their skills and served not only as regular soldiers in the Aquilonian military but as mercenaries for many noble houses and even some neighboring—and friendly —realms. They did not take their duties lightly.
    Unable to sleep, Nermesa strove unsuccessfully for the next few hours to answer his own questions. He was still attempting to do so when he heard the searchers returning. Just as he feared, they had found nothing. Captain Dante could only report that a witness had seen a man ride off on horseback into the dark just prior to the arrival of the soldiers. As that witness had been half-drunk, even his testimony was suspect.
    Come the morning, the garrison commander suggested that it might be wise for Nermesa to take another day before moving on, but, despite his lack of good sleep, the Black Dragon had to continue toward Poitain. Fortunately, he had from past experience grown accustomed to missing rest due to one trial or another.
    Captain Dante also offered an escort of four men to accompany the knight to Poitain, but, again, Nermesa declined. He would only draw more attention to himself like that, and with a larger party the journey would almost certainly slow down.
    Thanking the Gunderman for his courtesy, Nermesa rode on at a fast clip. He had every reason to believe that the incident had been an isolated one, that his assailant had merely recognized a royal courier and had thought that the pouch contained something of value. Just as Aquilonia had its spies in each of the surrounding kingdoms, so, too, did they have theirs in Aquilonia. Nemedia immediately sprang to mind, as did Koth and Zingara, both situated somewhat near his destination. Zingara in particular still coveted Poitain’s lush lands—although its own political infighting made any incursion a very remote possibility.
    Nermesa kept an eye on every rider and wagon that he passed as he hurried toward his next goal. Most he saw were headed toward Tarantia, but he did pass a few going slowly southwest that the knight recognized as having stopped at Samalara. These the Black Dragon treated with extra caution, skirting around them whenever necessary. Fortunately, the day was well lit and the land flat, enabling Nermesa to see for some distance.
    Stopping only to rest the horse and deal with necessities, he reached the last garrison before the mountains just before sunset. The commander—an Aquilonian—welcomed him with the full respect of anyone bearing the seal of the king and, like Captain Dante and the other officers, gave Nermesa his quarters. When the knight requested sentries near each opening of the building, the commander did not hesitate.
    Nevertheless, that evening Nermesa still slept with one hand on his sword and the other clutching the courier pouch.
    IT WAS WITH tremendous relief and even some pleasure that Nermesa finally reached the fabled blue peaks. Although imposing, the stretch was not as long or as ominous to Bolontes’ son as the vast