the smuggler’s bible


The lake ripples under the breeze coming down off the hills, and Agwisance watches the thin trees shake in the sandy dirt near the shore. He can see the riders far off in the pass, flags waving. They’ll be here before night, he thinks.

He heads back to the tents past the dogs and trenches of four other kings. “God, you look blue,” somebody says to him in the main pavilion. “You worried this new guy’s gonna give us a run for our money?”

“Not that,” Agwisance says. “I’m worried he’s going to beat us and make it look easy.”