Jimmy looked pleased at the praise. Arutha said dryly, “Sometimes too bright.”
Jimmy’s expression turned dark, while Locklear grinned.
They gained a day. From the time they left the first morning until sundown, they saw no sign of pursuers. Arutha decided Murmandamus must have ordered a thorough search of the empty fortress and would then have to reorder his army for the trek across the High Wold. No, they had stolen the march on the invaders, and they were likely to stay ahead of all but his fastest cavalry.
They could push the horses, rotating the remounts they led, and make between thirty-five and forty miles a day. Some horses were sure to go lame but with luck they would be across the vast, hilly High Wold in a week. Once in the Dimwood, they would have to slow, but the chances of being overtaken would also be less, for those behind would have to be cautious of ambush from among the thick trees.
On the second day they began passing the bodies of those wounded who could not withstand the punishment of the hard ride. Their comrades had followed orders and cut the dead loose from their saddles, not wasting time to bury them, not even stripping them of weapons and armour.
On the third day they saw the first signs of pursuit, vague shapes on the horizon near sundown. Arutha ordered an extra hour’s ride, and there were no signs of those behind at dawn.
On the fourth day they saw the first village. The soldiers riding past before them had alerted everyone of the danger, and it was now deserted. Smoke came from one chimney and Arutha sent a soldier to investigate. A well-banked fire still smouldered, but no one was left. A little seed grain was found and brought along, but all other foodstuffs were gone. There was little to comfort the enemy, so Arutha ordered the village left alone. Had the villagers not picked the place clean, he would have ordered it burned. He expected Murmandamus’s soldiers would see to that, but he still felt better for leaving the place as he had found it.
Near the end of the fifth day, they saw a company of riders approaching from behind, and Arutha ordered his company to halt and make ready. The riders came close enough to be clearly marked as a dozen moredhel scouts, but they veered off and moved back toward their main army rather than accept the offer to fight the larger force.
On the sixth day they overtook a caravan, heading south, already warned of the approaching danger by the first units of the garrison to ride past. The caravan drivers were moving at a slow, steady pace, but it was certain they’d be overtaken by Murmandamus’s advanced units within another day, two at the most. Arutha rode to where the merchant who owned the wagons sat and, riding alongside, shouted, “Cut your horses loose and ride them. Otherwise you cannot escape the Dark Brothers who follow!”
“But my grain!” complained the merchant. “I’ll lose everything!”
Arutha signalled a halt. When the wagons were stopped, he shouted to his command. “Each man take a sack of this merchant’s grain. We’ll need it for the Dimwood. Burn the rest!”
The protesting merchant ordered his bravos to defend his cargo, but the mercenaries took a single look at the fifty soldiers from Highcastle and moved away, allowing them to take the grain.
“Cut the horses loose!” ordered Guy.
The soldiers cut the horses from their traces, and led them away. Within minutes the sacks of grain had been removed from the first wagon and passed among the soldiers, including an extra sack for each of the merchant’s horses. The rest of the wagons and grain were fired.
Arutha said to the merchant, “There are thirty thousand goblins, Dark Brothers, and trolls on the march this way, master merchant. If you think I’ve done you an injustice, consider what you would face trundling these wagons along the trails of the Dimwood in the midst of such company. Now take the grain for your mounts and ride for the south. We shall stand at Sethanon, but if you value your skin, I’d ride past the city and make for Malac’s Cross. Now, if you want to be paid for this grain, stay in Sethanon, and if we all manage somehow to survive the invasion, I’ll recompense you. That’s your risk to decide. I’ve no more time to waste on you.”
Arutha ordered his column forward and, minutes later, was not surprised to find the merchant and his mercenaries riding after them, staying as close to the column as their tired mounts would allow. After a short while, Arutha yelled to Amos, “When we halt, get them some fresh horses from the remounts. I don’t want to leave them behind.”
Amos grinned. “They’re just about scared enough to behave. Let’s let them fall just a little farther behind, then when they catch up with us tonight they’ll be bright and cooperative lads.”
Arutha shook his head. Even in the face of this backbreaking ride, Amos appreciated the humour of the moment.