Tris dived, rolling through the deep snow. Before the mounted brigand could find him, Tris called the winds together into a swirling storm that enveloped the attacker, a blinding snowstorm that forced him to ground his mount. Tris dispelled the winds as Soterius rode up behind the attacker and swung his sword, cleaving the man through the waist. The brigand fell lifeless from his mount. The two vrykin approached Tris and lowered their heads deferentially, making it clear they were present to protect. Out on the hillside, Tris spotted at least a half a dozen more of the huge wolves.
Soterius reached Tris as he climbed to his feet. "Are you all right?"
Tris nodded. "You?"
Soterius's cloak was torn and a cut through his tunic revealed his mail shirt beneath. He
was breathing hard, but nodded. "We lost a couple of men. By the Whore! That was a full assault. We took all of them down." He looked down the road at the fresh marks of carriage wheels. "What about Kiara?"
Tris sheathed his sword. He wasn't sure whether he was shaking from the cold or from the fight. The soldier with Soterius offered Tris his own cloak and would not be refused. "I sent the horses back to Shekerishet," he said, gazing in the direction the carriage had disappeared. "They won't stop until they get there-and the geas I placed on them should hold for their spirits as well, if there was someone up ahead waiting to shoot them down. Kiara was chafing to join the fight."
Soterius chuckled. "That's Kiara." Another soldier walked toward them leading several horses. "I know you weren't planning on riding," he said. "But here's a horse for you if you'd like to arrive in time for your own wedding."
Tris grinned ruefully and looked down at his own ruined finery. "Showing up like this isn't likely to make the right impression on the guests." A soldier ran to retrieve Tris's circlet crown from where it had fallen. His doublet was torn and wet with snow, and his breeches were ruined.
Soterius grimaced. "Not much chance of hiding it, I imagine. Not after Kiara's shown up in a driverless carriage, and no chance at all if it's drawn by ghost steeds!"
"Let's hope it didn't get quite that far." Tris limped over toward where the last dead attacker lay in a heap of bloodied snow. "But first, I want to see if we can figure out who's behind this."
Soterius and the guards stepped back, giving him room to work. Tris closed his eyes and stretched out his power, calling for the dead man's ghost. The spirit of a blond, thick set man appeared and threw itself at Tris's feet.