Wizard's First Rule

A big yellow eye frowned back at him. "I'm a red dragon. I could land us in the middle of them, and they wouldn't see me, if I didn't want them to. How close do you want to be to them?"

"I don't want them to see me. I have to get to Michael without his men seeing me. I need to avoid trouble." Richard thought a moment. "Set us down a few hours' march ahead of them. Let them come to us. It'll be dark soon; then I can get to Michael."

Scarlet held her wings spread, gliding in a spiral toward hills ahead of the advancing army. She came down behind some of the higher ground, flew up the valleys, keeping out of sight of the road, and landed in a small clearing of long brown grass. Her bright red scales, glossy and lustrous, stood out in the late afternoon light. Richard slid off her shoulder.

Her head came around. "What now?"

"I want to wait until dark, until they set up camp for the night

After they eat, I'll be able to sneak into Michael's tent, and talk to him alone. I'll think of a way to convince him of who I really am."

The dragon grumbled, looking up at the sky, and toward the road. Her head swung back around, tilting, a big yellow eye peering at him.

"It will be dark soon. I must return to my egg. It needs to be warmed."

"I understand, Scarlet." Richard let out a deep breath, thinking. "Come back for me in the morning. I'll wait for you in this field at sunrise."

Scarlet looked up at the sky. "Clouds are gathering." Her head came back down. "If there are clouds, I can't fly in them."

Why?"

She grunted, a puff of smoke rising from her nostrils. "Because clouds have rocks in them."

Richard frowned. "Rocks

Her tail swished impatiently. "The clouds hide things; it's like fog, you can't see. When you can't see, you run into things, like hills and mountains. I may be strong, but running into rock when I'm flying would break my neck. If the cloud bottoms are high enough, I can fly under them. If the tops are low enough, I can fly over them, but then I won't be able to see the ground. I won't be able to find you. What if there are clouds and I can't find you, or what if something else goes wrong?"

Richard rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, looking off toward the road. "If anything goes wrong, I'll have to go back to my other three friends. I'll try to stick to the main road, so you will be able to see me." Richard swallowed hard. "If all else fails, I will have to go back to the People's Palace. Please, Scarlet, if I can't stop Rahl with what I do here, I must be in the People's Palace three days from tomorrow."

"Not much time."

"I know."

"Three days from tomorrow, and then I'm done with you."

Richard smiled. "That's our bargain."

Scarlet peered up once more. "I don't like the look of the sky. Good luck, Richard Cypher. I will return in the morning."

She took a little run and lifted into the air. Richard watched her circle around him once, low, then fly off getting smaller, disappearing between hills. A memory struck him: the memory of having seen her before. It had been the day he had first met Kahlan, right after the snake vine had bit him. He had seen her fly overhead just as she had done now, and disappear behind hills. He wondered what she had been doing in Westland that day.

Making his way through the tall, dry grass, Richard hiked to a nearby hill, climbing to the top of its sparsely wooded slope, where he could watch the approaches to the west. He found a well-hidden nook in the brush, made himself comfortable, and took out some dried meat and fruit. He found he even had a few apples left. He ate without enjoyment while he watched for the Westland army and his brother, wondering all the while what he' could do to convince Michael of who he was.

He thought of trying to write it out, or maybe even drawing a picture, or a map, but he had doubts that would work. If the enemy web around him changed his spoken words, it would probably change the written' ones as well. He tried to think of games they had played when they were young, but none stood out in his mind. Michael hadn't played all that much with him when they were young. Richard remembered that Michael only really liked fighting with play swords. He didn't think pulling his sword on his brother would have the desired effect.

But there was one thing, he remembered. When they had played at swords, Michael had liked Richard to salute him, while on one knee. Would Michael remember that? He had liked it done often; it made him smile more than anything else. Michael called it the loser's salute. When Richard had won, Michael wouldn't give him the salute, and Richard wasn't his match in size at the time, and hadn't ever been able to make Michael give the salute. But Michael had made Richard give it often enough. He smiled at the memory, though at the time it had hurt. Maybe Michael would remember. It was worth a try.