Chapter 36: Face Up

The dust stood up behind the caravan for a quarter bell before it had riders in it. Kael watched it from the tailboard of the first cart. They had halted at the ninth milestone to water the mules, with the Marches' hills going soft and brown to the north. Doss's party had passed the carts at a canter on the first morning, with the folio under Doss's saddle cord. No sash had come within a league of them since. Five riders came out of the dust, the horses dark to the knee with sweat. The Arena Marshal rode in front with a coil of black cord hung at the pommel and three officers at his back. Beside him on a bay sat Ivo Serle, Rhyd's advocate, with a leather tube slung across his back. "Sixteen." The Marshal pulled up ten paces off. "The stay is spent. Step down." The captain's…