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you’ll run into. Even Dokur isn’t safe anymore. Just two days ago the royal navy’s flagship was burnt to ashes by rebels.”
    â€œRebels, you say?” said Zyll.
    â€œYes,” the captain continued. “Let me send an armed escort with you to Dokur. One of my men was just about to leave to deliver our weekly report to the king at the Fortress. He could accompany you.”
    Marcus heard Xerxes squawk in surprise. Bryn’s grip on his hand tightened, yet he dared not say anything to Zyll. What would happen if the guard discovered that Bryn was a groc?
    Zyll scratched thoughtfully at his whiskers. “Your offer is a generous one,” he said, “but Dokur is less than a day’s walk from here. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
    The captain waved off his two companions. One strode over to the men with the horses and said something to them that Marcus could not hear. The other mounted his horse and took off at a gallop toward Dokur, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
    â€œWe’ll be on our way then,” said Zyll. “Good day, Captain.”
    Zyll said nothing to Marcus as he led them backtoward the road. Clovis and Lael were silent, too, but the captain called after them.
    â€œMy rider will let the Fortress know where you are and when you are expected to arrive. That way,” he said, “if you never show up, they’ll know something’s happened to you.”

Twenty-four
    D espite the captain’s warning, they arrived in Dokur early the following morning. The town had changed since Marcus saw it last. He remembered all too well how it had looked after the invasion by the Hestorians: its blackened buildings, charred by flaming dragons’ breath, and the heap of bodies in the center of town. As he entered the city now, however, Marcus noted that many of the buildings had been repaired. Instead of the horrors of death and battle, the streets of Dokur were lined with row upon row of colorful silken tents. Tables laden with scarves, blankets, jewelry, pottery, weapons, and all kinds of food crowded every inch of space. Merchants haggled with customers. Drums, pipes, and dulcimers filled the air with music. Some people actually danced in the street.
    Xerxes did not hide his disapproval. “After all this city has suffered,” he said to Zyll, “you’d think they’d show a little more self-control.”
    â€œNow, now, Xerxes,” replied Zyll. “These people have mourned long enough. This is their annual harvest celebration. I imagine after all the hard work of rebuilding their city and caring for the families of those who died in battle, the Dokurians deserve a little merriment, don’t you?”
    In contrast to all the celebration, however, were the soldiers standing guard throughout the square. Bryn stayed close to Marcus as they followed Zyll through the crowd. When they reached the immense stone fountain at the center of the city, they drank from it and splashed water on their faces. Once refreshed, Marcus sat down at the edge of the fountain. The smell of freshly baked bread made his stomach rumble.
    Zyll raised an eyebrow. “Those meat pies over there look delicious,” he said, placing a coin in Marcus’s hand. “Why don’t you buy a few to hold you until supper? In the meantime, I’ll find a courier and send word to the Fortress of our arrival.”
    â€œDon’t tell me you plan to leave these children alone?” squawked Xerxes. “They’re certain to get into trouble.”
    â€œCalm yourself, Xerxes. They will be fine. And besides,” Zyll added with a wink, “whatever trouble they get themselves into, I will not hold you accountable.”
    â€œWell, then I suppose it would be all right to leave them,” Xerxes said in a serious tone, “for a short time.”
    Zyll laughed again and waved over his shoulder as heand Xerxes disappeared into the crowd. Marcus