Jazhara said, “I hate that word! What do you mean?”
Alan glanced up at Jazhara, and while he had never seen her before he must have deduced she was the Prince’s new magician, for he said, “Begging your pardon, milady. There’s an old woman living at Widow’s Point who the local villagers in Haldon Head go to with their common ailments. They’ve always tolerated her, even welcomed her when they were ill, but with the strange goings-on of late, they’ve taken to calling her a witch.”
Jazhara said, “Perhaps we can be of some assistance when we reach Haldon Head.”
James said, “Where are you off to next?”
“I’m hurrying down to the garrison at Sarth. Word is we’ve got goblins raiding to the east of here. Likely there’s a camp nearby.”
“They going to be a problem to us in reaching Haldon Head?” asked James.
“I don’t think so, but it’s best to stay on the road during daylight. So far, I’ve only heard of them hitting farms for food animals.” Looking around the crowded room, he said, “I’d best slip out now. I’ve got a small patrol camped down the road. Thought it best not to call attention to myself. I should rejoin them and start out for the south at first light.” He rose. “One last thing, the patrol sent to aid you hasn’t reached Miller’s Rest yet. They could be there by the time you pass through, or show up later. Best to stay out of trouble at Haldon Head until you know they’re in place.”
James thanked Alan and the agent departed.
Kendaric asked, “Can we get something to eat?”
James nodded. “And some rooms.” He stood up and returned to the bar to arrange it with Goodman Royos.
William waited patiently for the return of the Pathfinders. He had stopped his patrol at a small clearing near a brook. A tree had been blazed with the agreed-upon cut, a symbol that meant “wait here.”
He could feel the tension in the pit of his stomach. The only reason for making such a mark was that they were closing in on their quarry. Time dragged as he waited for the return of the scouts. He considered his options. He had been trailing Bear for over a week now. Several times he had waited while the Pathfinders had lost the trail only to pick it up again a few hours later. On two occasions, it was clear that Bear had met with other men. The Pathfinders deduced that he was recruiting mercenaries. Twice, other riders had left Bear’s group to ride off on errands of one sort or another. Three times they had come across signs of goblins in the area, and William had even dispatched one of his riders back to Krondor to carry word of their possible incursion into the Principality. William prayed this was just some tribal migration to better hunting grounds, and not a gang of raiders. He wanted to concentrate his energy on Bear and his men, not a group of nonhuman troublemakers looking to steal cows and children. He knew that if he did encounter a raiding band, he’d be honor-bound to attempt to drive them back up into the mountains and that to do so would risk losing track of Bear. As much as he wanted to avenge Talia’s murder, he couldn’t abide the thought of a human child being sacrificed in one of the goblins’ magic rites.
Finally, one of the two Pathfinders appeared. It was Jackson who came into the clearing, leading his horse. “We’ve spotted a band of mercenaries, Lieutenant.”
“Bear’s men?”
“Marie thinks so, but we saw no sign of the man himself. From the description, he’d be a hard one to miss. Marie’s staying close. They’re camped in a little clearing about a mile up the road. Best if we slip half the company around them, then hit them from both sides.”
William considered the plan. He disliked the idea of splitting his forces while on the march, yet he knew that if he came at the mercenaries from one side only, they might break and flee into the woods. He needed intelligence more than dead bodies. At last he nodded. “How long?”
“We can be in place in an hour.”
William glanced at the late afternoon sky. They would attack the mercenaries as it was getting dark. “Good. Be ready at sunset. Don’t attack until you hear us coming, then hit them hard.”
“Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Jackson?”
“I recognize this company. They’re the Grey Talon, up from Landreth.”
“Landreth?” asked William. “Valemen.”
Jackson nodded. “Tough bastards. Last I heard they were fighting down in the Vale for a trading concern against Keshian raiders. They sometimes come up to Krondor to spend their gold, but usually we don’t see them this far north.”
William pondered the significance of this. “They must have been in Krondor when Bear was there, and Bear’s agent must have gotten word to them to head north.”
“Something like that,” agreed Jackson.
“Which means Bear doesn’t have many of his original crew left.”