Erik watched.
In the fields below the foothills, a huge mobilization was beginning. He had just enjoyed a week of relative calm, but now that was obviously coming to an end.
For a month they had been relatively successful in forcing the invaders along the route they had designed for them. There had been reports of hard fighting to the north and south, but the Kingdom lines had held on both flanks as the middle had slowly retreated, drawing the invaders after.
Twice they had come close to disaster, narrowly escaping along the retreat route, and at each new position along the way fresh reserves were waiting. Erik was still far from optimistic about the success of the plan, but he was inching closer.
Since the fall of Krondor they had regained a week of the lost time; they had held here for ten days instead of seven. Now they had to fight a delaying action as they withdrew, slowing the enemy down by making them think there was going to be strong resistance in Wilhelmsburg. If they could keep the enemy cautious, they might be where they wished to be when the fighting reached Darkmoor. Every time Erik thought of the plan to hold the enemy on this side of the mountains, he wondered if they were going to be cursed with a late winter.
One advantage had been the arrival of a man named Robert d’Lyes, a magician who had several useful spells. He could send messages up the line quickly to another magician who was staying with Greylock, and he could tell what the weather was going to be like the next day. He also could see things better than a man with a spyglass, though he could do so only for a limited duration; and he lacked Erik’s knowledge of what to look for, but he seemed to be catching on.
Other magicians were now scattered throughout the defenders’ army, helping in whatever fashion they could. For this Erik was grateful. He didn’t understand why the Pantathians were so conspicuous by their absence. Eventually they would take a hand, and when they did, Erik hoped the Kingdom magicians could counteract some of their advantage.
D’Lyes came to Erik’s side and said, ‘General Greylock wants to know if you expect an attack today.’
Erik said, ‘Almost certainly.’
Erik glanced around. To the north the hills faded quickly into the late-afternoon haze. They were entering the hilly vineyards and groves he had known as a boy. To the uninitiated, the terrain looked less severe than the low hills to the west, but it wasn’t. Unexpected ridges and gullies could trap an enemy, slowing an advance. In the fervent hope this was going to be the case, Erik had positioned his most seasoned soldiers in key locations to the limit of his area. He would have to rely on Captain Subai and his Pathfinders and Hadati – what Greylock called ‘The Krondorian Mixed Command’ – to hold beyond that point.
To the south, Erik threw his larger contingent, fresh replacements who were as yet untried. They would have an easier time of it because of the terrain, but they were also less ready to fight. Many of those carrying arms were town boys who had drilled less than two months and had never smelled blood.
Erik said, ‘Ask Greylock to be ready to support me to the south. I think my north flank is secure.’
The magician closed his eyes, and his brow knitted in concentration; he said, ‘The message is understood.’ Then he sat down, obviously dizzy.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Erik.
The magician nodded. ‘It’s just that I don’t usually do this sort of thing more than once or twice a month. Once or twice a day is a bit much.’
‘Well, I’ll try to keep message traffic to a minimum.’ He smiled. ‘I just wish I had more like you in a dozen locations.’
The magician nodded. ‘As long as we’re useful.’
‘More than useful,’ said Erik. ‘You may prove vital.’
‘Thank you,’ said the magician. ‘I am willing to help in whatever way I can.’
Erik waited, and as the enemy staged below he found himself wondering aloud, ‘What is this, then?’
‘Captain?’ asked the magician.
‘Just curious. They are staging for an assault, but it looks badly coordinated.’
‘How can you tell?’
Erik said, ‘This army we face is made up mostly of mercenaries: good fighters individually, but possessing almost no skills for large-scale fighting; they’re used to winning by overwhelming whomever they face.’ He pointed to a small patch of uniformed men with green banners flying overhead. ‘That’s what’s left of the regular army of Maharta, which surrendered pretty much intact after the city fell. It’s the only trained heavy infantry they possess. The other soldiers on foot are men whose horses were left behind or whose animals died along the way. They’re useless for anything except swarming over a breach.’ Erik scratched his chin and felt four days’ growth.
‘I think I understand, but I may not. Are you saying they should have placed their men in a different arrangement?’ asked the magician.
‘Yes,’ said Erik. ‘The cavalry has to charge over hilly terrain, while the heavy infantry is being directed at the most heavily defended area of the line. The rest of the army looks poised to charge right across open territory where our catapults and archers will carve them up.’
‘I see.’
Erik grinned. ‘You’re being polite. Let’s say that if I were on the other side, I’d use my cavalry in the middle, to screen and deliver cover fire, while I brought up my heavy infantry to attack just north of here.’ He pointed to a problem point in his defensive line, a modest gully where he hadn’t had enough time or materiel to build a proper defensive position. ‘If I could punch through there, then that motley army down there could pour through and wreak havoc.’
‘Let’s hope they don’t think of it.’
‘They should,’ Erik said softly. ‘What I can’t fathom is why they don’t.’ Suddenly he said, ‘Send a message to Greylock, if you can. Tell him I think this massing here is possibly a feint to get us to concentrate our efforts, then spring an attack somewhere else along the line.’
The magician smiled, though he looked fatigued. ‘I’ll try.’
Erik didn’t wait to see if the magician was successful, but sent runners to the north, south, and east. After a few minutes, the magician shook his head and said, ‘I’m sorry, but I just can’t focus my will anymore.’
‘You’ve done enough. We’re pulling out tomorrow. I think it would be wise if you started toward the next defensive position to the east. If you leave now, you should reach a safe camp by sundown. Tell the quartermaster I authorized you be given a horse.’
‘I can’t ride, Captain.’
Erik looked over his shoulder. ‘Some sort of magic means to move quickly?’
‘No, I’m sorry to say.’
As trumpets blew down at the bottom of the hill, Erik said, ‘Then I suggest you start walking and get as far as you can on foot. If you’re not near a friendly campfire, find someplace sheltered to hunker down. Sometime in the morning the wagon carrying the wounded will come past you; flag it down and get a ride. I’ll pass word to pick you up.’
‘Can’t I stay?’
Another trumpet blew and Erik drew his sword. ‘I wouldn’t advise it.’ As he turned away he said, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me.’
An arrow sped by overhead, a wild shot from someone below who was overanxious. Erik glanced over his shoulder and saw the magician running to the east with surprisingly renewed strength. Erik took the moment to indulge himself in a chuckle at the sight, then turned his attention to the bloody work ahead.
‘All right,’ he shouted. ‘Archers, pick your targets and wait until I give the order.’
A familiar voice came from behind as Sergeant Harper said, ‘Captain von Darkmoor, you’re forgetting yourself. If you don’t mind, sir?’ He turned and said, ‘First one of you mother-lovers who lets fly an arrow before I give the word’s going to have to run down there and fetch it back to me! Understood?’
Erik smiled again. He had never gotten the knack of being a proper bully sergeant and was pleased to have men like Harper, Alfred, and the others under his command.
Then the enemy came.
Erik welcomed the darkness. The enemy was retreating down the hillside, but had left his men in tatters. He had been wrong about the feint. The only reason he still held his position had been the enemy’s ineptitude. They had charged straight up the hill, into first the withering missile fire of the Kingdom’s archers, then a rain of the short, soft iron spears Erik’s commands had been training with since he had first come to serve Calis. Hundreds of the enemy had died for each yard traveled, and they had still reached only the first trench.
The defense had been a series of trenches and breastworks cut along the contours of the hillsides, and whatever natural slope of the landscape concentrated the attackers, there they found overlapping fields of missile fire waiting for them. When the survivors of the first wave reached the first breastwork, they found a highly banked, hard-packed earthen barrier, studded with sharp wooden spikes. The spikes caused little damage but forced the attackers to move slowly, making them easy targets for the defenders.
But they had come and kept coming. After the first hour, Erik felt as if he would never be able to raise his arms again, but still he had to fight on. During the fighting, someone – a squire or town boy, he didn’t know which – had come by with a bucket of water and handed him a tin ladle during a tiny lull. He had drunk it quickly, handing the ladle back to the boy, and resumed fighting a moment later.
For what seemed an eternity, Erik fought, striking down any head that appeared on the other side of the redoubt. Then the enemy was fleeing, unwilling to continue pressing the attack as the sun began to sink beyond the western horizon.
Torches were lit, as much for reassurance as for the need – the twilight this time of year was lengthy – and those designated as hopitalers, local boys, old men and women, and court squires and pages – all started carrying water and food to the living, then carrying away the wounded and dead.
Erik turned and sat where he had been fighting, ignoring the dead soldier from Novindus who lay in the dirt next to him. When a boy with water came by, Erik took a single drink, passing along the rest of the water to the men nearby.
Soon a runner arrived with a note. He opened and read it, then, feeling so fatigued he didn’t know if he could will himself to move, he shouted, ‘Fall back!’
As if by magic, Sergeant Harper appeared. ‘We’re pulling out, sir?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Then we’re making for the next defensive position?’
‘We are.’
The wily old sergeant said, ‘Then we’ll not be seeing much sleep tonight, will we?’
Erik said, ‘I expect not. What is your point, Sergeant?’
‘Oh, none, Captain. I just wanted to make sure I understood everything.’
Erik fixed the sergeant with a baleful eye. ‘I think you understand just fine, Sergeant.’
‘Well, then, just so as it’s clear I’m not the one making lads who’ve spent a half-day fighting pick up and move without a drop to drink or a bite to eat.’
Erik realized the men were ready to drop. ‘I think we can hold off, then, until we’ve eaten.’
‘That’s lovely, sir. It’ll give us a bit of time to haul away the dead and get the wounded out in the wagons. A wise choice, sir.’
Erik sat down again. As Harper moved along, Erik said to himself, ‘And I had the presumption to call myself a sergeant.’
The withdrawal was more difficult than Erik would have liked. Despite the food and rest for two hours, the men were still bone-tired when they were turned to march to the east.
Erik inventoried his assets and realized he was beginning to see elements of those men he had trained over the last two years, two companies of men who knew how to handle themselves, who had arrived from a position to the north.
Word came down that the enemy had broken through up north, but the gap had been closed. The bad news was that a contingent, numbering at least three hundred, possibly more, was loose on the wrong side of this current line of march. Erik sent his best scouts to the north, and hoped that if the invaders were coming this way, they would blunder into one of the heavier elements. Three hundred raiders could do quite a bit of damage to one of the smaller companies on the march before reinforcements could be summoned.
Just before sunrise, Erik found a solitary figure marching next to him, the magician Robert d’Lyes. ‘Hello, magician.’
‘Hello, Captain. I found a small rock under which to hide,’ he said with dry humor, ‘but instead of a wagon I find an army marching my way.’
‘I told you we were leaving,’ Erik said dryly. ‘I just didn’t think we’d be leaving so quickly.’
‘So I see. How goes the war?’
Erik said, ‘I wish I knew. So far we’ve done well, but that last attack showed me we’re still seriously outmanned.’
‘Can you hold them?’
‘We will,’ said Erik. ‘We have no choice.’
Ahead they saw lights as the village of Wilhelmsburg came into view. Entering the town they saw that it was completely taken over as a military site. The townspeople had been evacuated days earlier, and Erik knew that once his men had rested for a day, eaten and tended wounds, they would abandon this town, after putting every building in it to the torch.
A small figure ran toward Erik, shouting, ‘Captain von Darkmoor!’
Erik recognized him, despite the filth that clung to the tabard of a page of the royal court in Krondor. ‘Yes … what is your name?’
‘Samuel, sir. A lady asked me to give this to you.’
Erik took the note and sent the boy on his way. Erik opened the note. Inside, in a simple handwriting, it said: ‘Gone to Ravensburg to find your mother. I love you. Kitty.’
Erik felt relief that Kitty had reached here safely and was probably now staying at the Inn of the Pintail, where Erik had grown up. He turned to where the exhausted magician stood and said, ‘Let’s get something to eat.’
‘An excellent idea,’ said the fatigued conjurer.
They reached the Sign of the Plowshare, the inn where he had first met Corporal Alfred and Roo’s cousin Duncan. That caused Erik to wonder where his boyhood friend might be.
Inside the inn, they found the common room crowded. Half the floor was littered with blankets, where a makeshift infirmary had been set up, while the other half was jammed with starving soldiers, eating whatever was being passed across the counter.
A corporal whose name escaped Erik said, ‘We’ve got some rooms upstairs for the officers, Captain. We’ll send up food.’
‘Thank you,’ said Erik.
He led Robert up the stairs, and when they got to the first room, he pushed open the door and found an officer in the tabard of Ylith, sound asleep on a bare floor. Two other men sat eating. They glanced over, and Erik waved at them in apology and closed the door. He moved down to the next door and opened it, finding the room empty.
Inside were two simple mattresses, woolen blankets sewn together and hay-stuffed; to Erik they looked inviting. He struggled to get out of his boots, and by the time he did, the corporal had arrived with two wooden bowls of hot stew and two large mugs of ale. Suddenly fatigue was forgotten as Erik’s mouth began to water.
As the corporal made to leave, Erik said, ‘Make sure someone wakes me an hour before dawn.’
‘Yes, Captain.’
Robert said, ‘I don’t envy you an early morning after a day such as you’ve just had.’
‘No need for you to envy anyone, magician. You’re up at first light, too.’
‘I suppose it’s necessary?’
‘Yes, we need to be out of this town before the enemy gets here. It’s the difficult part of this mission, keeping one jump ahead of the foe. When they reach Wilhelmsburg, they are to find only fire and ruin.’
Robert said, ‘Such a waste.’
‘It’s more of a waste to give the enemy anything to aid them on their march.’
‘I guess so.’ The magician ate a couple of spoonfuls of food, then said, ‘Pug said things were dire, and while he wouldn’t be specific, he led us to believe that there’s even more at risk than the sovereignty of the Kingdom. Or is that an exaggeration?’
‘I can’t say,’ replied Erik between bites of food. After he had swallowed a healthy drink of ale, he said, ‘But let me put it that none of us can afford a loss in this war. None of us.’
Robert sat back, resting against the wall, with his feet stretched out. ‘I’m not used to all this walking.’
‘I offered you a horse.’
‘Truth to tell, they scare me.’
Erik looked at the man, then laughed. ‘I have spent my entire life around them, so you’ll forgive me, but I find that funny.’
Robert shrugged. ‘Well, there are many who are frightened of magicians, so I guess I can understand that.’
Erik nodded. ‘There was a time when I was a boy in Ravensburg when I would have been worried about you, if not frightened, but I’ve seen enough over the last few years that I choose to worry about things that I can face with a sword in my hand, and let the gods, priests, and magicians worry about the rest.’
‘Wise man,’ said Robert with a sleepy smile. ‘If you don’t think it overly rude,’ he said, putting down his bowl and mug, ‘I think I’ll get some sleep.’ His head barely touched the mattress before he was snoring.
Erik finished his ale and lay down, and it seemed only a minute after he closed his eyes when he found the young corporal shaking his shoulder, saying, ‘Captain, it’s time to get up.’
Roo motioned for everyone to stop. Luis was semiconscious, his feet tied to the stirrups of one horse – with the rope passed under the animal – so he wouldn’t fall, as he hugged the animal’s neck. His wound was still seeping blood, and Roo knew he would not survive another night without rest and better care than they could provide on the trail. Willem rode with his arms around little Helmut, while Nataly rode with Abigail before her. Roo, Karli, and Helen led the horses.
They had left the cave the morning before, trying to find a safe route to the northern road. Twice they had found themselves at impassable points in the woods, and Roo had followed his plan of going east when he couldn’t go north, then turning north when he could no longer go east.
Only once had they found themselves blocked on the north and east, and he had cast back to the west and found another northern route.
Roo had halted them because of the sound of riders, some distance off, but close enough that he started looking for a place to hide. ‘Wait here,’ he said softly, handing the reins of the horse he was leading, upon which Luis sat, to Helen. He drew his sword and hurried off, looking for some elevation to give him a better view.
He found a rise to the east and climbed it, which led to another, and that brought him to a relatively clear ridge. Sound was echoing, but when he stood still for a moment, he could hear that the riders were to his north.
‘Damn,’ he said softly and hurried back to the others.
The children had fallen into silence, as they reacted to the obvious fear their parents tried to hide. Roo said, ‘A large band of riders to the north.’
‘That road you spoke of ?’ asked Helen.
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘What do we do?’ said Karli.
‘We go quietly, and slowly, and we hope those are Kingdom cavalry.’
Karli was handling her terror far better than Roo would have guessed. He admired her willingness to put aside her own fear to protect her children. Roo glanced at Luis, who had lapsed into a half-doze, barely able to sit upright. Perspiration ran from his face, although the morning was cool, and Roo knew he had fever from his wound.
‘We’ve got to get Luis to a healer,’ Roo said, and Helen and Karli both nodded.
They set off slowly through the woods. A half-hour later, Roo stopped. He glanced around a clearing and said, ‘I know this place.’
‘Where are we?’
Roo said, ‘Karli, this is where your father, Erik, and I camped, the second night we traveled together. We met him a half-day’s ride to the east.’ He calculated. ‘Damn. We got turned around someplace, and were moving northwest instead of north. We’re not as far east as I hoped.’
‘Where are we?’ asked Helen.
‘Still most of a day’s ride to a road that will fork down to Wilhelmsburg.’
Karli lowered her voice. ‘Luis can’t ride another day.’
‘I know,’ said Roo, ‘but we have no choice.’
He led them through the clearing, and just a short distance to the north lay the road they had been seeking. Hoof prints showed that the patrol Roo had heard had ridden this way. He motioned to them to follow him down the road.
The day passed without incident. Near sundown, they left the woodlands and found an abandoned farm, a squat stone-and-log affair with a sod roof. ‘We can stay here tonight,’ said Roo. ‘The road that leads down to Wilhelmsburg is about another hour to the east of here.’
They got Luis off the horse and into the house, laying him gently on a straw pallet. Roo took the horses into the unoccupied barn, untacked them, and found some hay there, which he let them eat. He knew from his training with Erik and the others while in the army that if the hay was bad the horses would colic and die, but from what he could tell, it still looked edible. He closed the door and went to the little house.
Helen was looking at Luis’s shoulder. ‘We need to clean this,’ she said.
Roo looked around and found nothing. ‘Let me see if there’s a well.’
He went out back and found the well, and there was still a bucket in it. He pulled up fresh water, untied the bucket, and brought the water into the house.
Karli said, ‘I found this.’ She held out a small sack. ‘Salt.’ Roo took it while Karli said, ‘It must have fallen to the floor when whoever lived here fled.’
Roo said, ‘It might help.’
‘Can we have a fire?’ asked Willem.
Roo said, ‘No. Even if we hide the flames from sight, the smell of smoke could bring raiders.’
Helen lowered her voice. ‘If I can boil some water, I can clean his wounds.’
Roo said, ‘I know.’ He held out the salt. ‘Drink from the bucket, then when it’s half full, pour the salt into the water. Bathe his wounds in that.’ He glanced at his unconscious friend. ‘It will hurt like hell, but I don’t think he’ll notice. I’m going to try to find something for a poultice.’
Roo left the hut and stayed close to the buildings, in case someone might be coming along the road. He didn’t want to take the chance of being spotted. He hurried past the barn and past the now empty fields, into the woods. He had seen several mosses on the rocks the way they had come. Nakor had shown them all how to make a poultice, and Roo wished he had paid closer attention. But he thought he knew what to look for.
After nearly an hour’s search, as night was falling, Roo found the spiderweb-like moss, hugging tree trunks and rocks near a tiny stream. He gathered as much as he could carry in two hands, then hurried back to the farmhouse.
Karli and Helen had gotten Luis’s shirt off and had bathed the wound with the salt water. Helen said, ‘He didn’t move.’
Roo said, ‘That’s probably for the best.’ He studied his friend’s face and saw it was covered with perspiration. He also saw that the wound to his shoulder had been caked over with dried blood, but now lay open. ‘That needs to be sewn closed.’
Karli said, ‘I have needles.’
‘What?’ asked Roo.
She reached under her dress and said, ‘Needles are expensive and when we left everything, I made sure my needles were safe.’ She tore a seam in the hem of her dress and took out a tiny rolled piece of leather, which had been lying alongside the seam. She unrolled it and presented Roo with six finely tempered steel needles.
Roo blinked. ‘I’m pleased sewing meant so much to you,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t have any thread, by chance, would you?’
Helen said, ‘Threads are easy.’ She stood and lifted the hem of her dress. She reached under and pulled down one of her own underskirts, stepping out of it. With her teeth she worried a seam, and when she was satisfied with the damage done, she began unraveling threads. ‘Now, how long do you think?’
‘A foot and a half,’ said Roo.
She took one of the needles and worked the tangle of threads, pushing the one she wanted clear, then she took it between thumb and forefinger and pulled. Roo expected it to break, but to his surprise, it unraveled and she pulled out three feet of thread. She bit at the hem, and yanked, and handed the linen thread to Roo.
Roo said, ‘I wish I knew what I was doing.’ He allowed Helen to thread the needle, then said, ‘One of you at his head, and one at his feet in case he tries to move.’
The two women obeyed, Helen gripping Luis’s legs while Karli put her hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch the wound. Roo began to sew.
Throughout the night, Luis lay in a fever. He awoke enough to take a drink of water. Once they had to restrain him from attempting to scratch off the poultice that Roo had put on his wound.
Karli and Helen sat in the corner, with the children gathered around them, sleeping the best they could. Roo slept across the doorsill, sword in hand.
In the morning, Luis looked better. ‘I think his fever’s broken,’ said Roo.
‘Should we move him?’ asked Helen.
Roo gritted his teeth. ‘I don’t think we should, but we can’t stay here. If those soldiers that rode by yesterday were Kingdom cavalry, the enemy will be here sometime today. If they were enemy soldiers, we’re already behind the lines.’
Luis’s eyes opened, and he whispered, ‘I can ride.’
‘I wish we had something to eat,’ said Karli. ‘He needs it to regain his strength.’
Roo said, ‘With luck we’ll be in Wilhelmsburg by midday. We’ll eat until we pop.’ He grinned at the children, who tried to smile.
They got the horses saddled and, with a great deal of difficulty, managed to help Luis into the saddle. Roo said, ‘Do you want me to tie you to the irons again?’
‘No,’ said Luis, blinking against the morning sunlight. ‘I can manage.’ He looked at his heavily bandaged shoulder and said, ‘What did you do to my shoulder?’
‘Salt water and a poultice,’ said Roo. ‘How is it?’
‘It itches like nothing I’ve ever felt.’
Roo said, ‘I think itching’s good.’
‘Only if it’s happening to someone else,’ said Luis.
Roo took the reins of his horse, and Luis gripped the horse’s mane at the withers. The children rode as they had before, and Roo led them all down the road, eastward.
Erik rode quickly through the town and shouted, ‘Burn it!’
Men at the western edge of Wilhelmsburg ran through the town throwing torches. The larger stone buildings would be gutted, for most had bales of hay placed inside, and the buildings with thatched roofs caught quickly.
By the time Erik reached the eastern edge of the town, the western half was fully engulfed in flames. Erik waited until all his men were out of the town, then said, ‘Let’s move.’
Since before sunrise, soldiers billeted at Wilhelmsburg had been moving eastward, heading for a ridge line that they would defend for another week if possible. Erik knew that as they moved closer to Darkmoor they were going to encounter more towns like this one, Wolfsburg, Ravensburg, Halle, and Gotsbus. All would provide close support, but all would have to be torched before the defenders withdrew.
Robert d’Lyes rode over, obviously very uncomfortable on the horse Erik had secured for him. ‘How are you doing?’ asked Erik.
‘Only the thought of another day walking in the heat convinces me this is a good idea, Captain.’
Erik smiled. ‘She’s a gentle animal. Don’t saw on her mouth and pay attention, and she’ll take care of you. Remember to keep your heels down.’
Erik turned and rode off, and the magician tried his best to keep up.
Roo lay back against the wall of the gully, his sword held close to his chest. The despair had almost been overwhelming when they had reached a point down the southern trail where they could see the smoke from Wilhelmsburg. Roo didn’t have to see the town to realize it had been put to the torch.
They had halted on the road, trying to decide what to do: risk skirting the flaming town, trying to overtake the fleeing Kingdom Army, or turn back north and take the less-used road into Ravensburg. While they debated, a shout from across a large clearing told them they had been spotted by horsemen.
Roo took them into the woods at once, hurrying the frightened group as best he could. He found a gully that quickly deepened, turned to the north, then turned east again. He had shooed them all along, and had doubled back, sword in hand. Luis had followed, his dagger in his left hand. He was weak and disoriented, but he was willing to fight.
While Karli, Helen, and the children huddled deep at the end of the gully, against a steep wall of rocks, trying to keep the horses quiet, Roo and Luis waited just beyond the first turn in the gully.
Voices came from a short distance away, and Roo recognized the speech as being from Novindus. Luis nodded, and his thumb flexed along the hilt of his dagger.
The sound of horses approaching caused Roo to crouch, hugging the bank. The voices grew louder. ‘Some tracks in the mud. Look fresh.’
‘Keep it down. You want to send them to ground?’
The first rider came around the bend, looking backward over his shoulder, saying, ‘When you pay me, you give me orders, you –’
Roo sprang upward, striking straight into the exposed area under the man’s right arm. The sudden thrust stunned the man, and Roo yanked him from his horse.
The horse shied, moving up the gully, past Luis.
‘What did you say?’ said the other rider.
Roo saw a dagger at the fallen man’s belt and pulled it, tossing it toward Luis. For all his fatigue and illness, Luis still managed to place his own dagger between his teeth and caught the one tossed him without missing a beat.
Luis flipped the blade in the air, caught it by the point, and pulled it back behind his ear and let fly with it just as the second rider came around the bend. ‘Hey! I asked –’ the man said just as the blade caught him in the throat.
He gurgled as Roo dragged him from the saddle. Roo dumped the body next to the first one and with a swat sent the horse after the one heading toward Karli, Helen, and the children.
Roo signaled and he and Luis headed back to where the others waited. ‘They’ll be here any second,’ said Roo.
‘What do we do?’ asked Karli.
Roo pointed to the rocks, a twelve-foot bank. ‘We climb up there. They can’t follow.’
He didn’t wait, but started scrambling up to the top of the rocks. When he got up there, he could see glimpses of the other riders through the trees, calling questions back and forth, inquiring about the two missing men. Roo motioned for Willem to climb up, and he held down his hands, so Helen, who was taller than Karli, could hand up Helmut to him. The littlest child stuck out his lip as if about to cry, and Roo said, ‘Please, baby, not now.’
As Roo took his son into his arms, Helmut cut loose with a pitiful wail, as if all the fear, hunger and fatigue he had endured for the last three days were coming out at once. Luis turned and drew his dagger, for only a moment later, Helmut’s cry was answered by the shouts of the horsemen.
Abigail and Nataly scrambled up the rocks, pushed by their mothers. Willem climbed without aid. Luis looked up, perspiration running off his brow, and said, ‘I can’t make it.’
Roo said, ‘Climb! It’s just a short way.’
Luis had one good hand, and that shoulder was the damaged one. He reached up, gritted his teeth, and pulled. He found toeholds and took a deep breath. He let go and tried to push himself upward, grabbing frantically with his good hand, his withered right hand scraping uselessly off the rocks. Roo leaned over and grabbed his wrist. ‘I’ve got you!’
Roo felt his arms stretching as the larger man hung like dead weight. Nearly out of breath, Luis said, ‘Let me go. I can’t do this.’
‘You’ll do it, damn you!’ said Roo, yanking hard, though he knew he couldn’t pull the man up by main force.
Luis tried to climb, making little progress, as two riders turned into view. ‘There they are!’ shouted one.
‘Let me go!’ said Luis. ‘Get away!’
‘No!’ shouted Roo. To Helen and Karli he said, ‘Get the children back into the trees!’
Roo pulled and Luis struggled, as a rider came into close proximity, with a sword drawn. ‘You the bastards killed Mikwa and Tugon? We’ll settle –’
An arrow lifted the rider from his saddle and a second took the rider behind him out of his seat as well.
Strong arms reached past Roo and took Luis’s wrist, lifting him easily to the edge of the rocks. Roo turned and looked up into a strange, alien, but handsome face. The elf smiled and said, ‘You seemed troubled, stranger.’
‘You could say that,’ said Roo, leaning back on his elbows, panting. Another elf appeared, shouldering his longbow. Roo flexed his left arm and said, ‘I don’t know how much longer I could have held on.’
A man in a black tunic came to stand next to the elf and a familiar grin split a dark face as he said, ‘If you aren’t the sorriest-looking jokers I’ve had the misfortune to see, man, I don’t know nothing.’
Luis grinned and said, ‘Jadow. Glad to see you.’ Then he fainted.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ asked Jadow Shati as he knelt next to his old companion from the campaign down to Novindus.
Roo said, ‘Shoulder. He’s got a wound and it’s inflamed. Loss of blood, the usual complaints.’
‘We can care for that,’ said the elf. ‘But we had best get you and your children away from here.’
Roo stood up and said, ‘Rupert Avery.’
The elf said, ‘I’m Galain. I’m on my way to bring messages to your General Greylock.’
‘General?’ said Roo. ‘Things have changed.’
‘More than you know,’ said Jadow. ‘Let’s get some distance between us and those other riders, and we can talk.’
‘How many of you are there?’ asked Roo as he walked behind Jadow and Galain.
‘Six elves from the Elf Queen’s court, and a light company.’
Roo knew a light company was ten squads of six men each. ‘Where are they?’
‘A half-mile that way,’ said Jadow. ‘Our friends here have remarkable hearing and told us there was horses over here, so I thought we’d check things out.’ He put his hand on Roo’s shoulder. ‘We’re on our way to Ravensburg. Care to come along?’
Roo laughed. ‘Thanks. We could do with some company. Now, what do you have to eat?’