“Aye,” said Garret, his long face showing he was unconvinced. “Why, indeed? It’s not death arriving when she will that worries me; it’s your inviting her to visit that gets me shivering.”
Martin laughed softly. He motioned for Garret to follow. They set off at a trot, covering ground with long, loose strides. The forest was bright with sunlight, but between the thick boles were many dark places wherein a watchful enemy could lurk Garret left it to Longbow’s able judgment whether these hiding places were safe to pass. Then, as one, both men stopped in their tracks at the sound of movement ahead. Noiselessly they melted into a shadowy thicket. A minute passed slowly with neither man speaking. Then a faint whispering came to them, the words unclear.
Into their field of vision came two figures, moving cautiously along a north-south path that intersected the one Martin followed. Both were dressed in dark grey cloaks, with bows held ready. They stopped, and one kneeled down to study the signs left by Longbow and his trackers. He pointed down the trail and spoke to his companion, who nodded and returned the way they had come.
Longbow heard Garret hiss as he drew in his breath. Peering around the area was a tracker of the Brotherhood of the Dark Path. After a moment of searching he followed his companion.
Garret began to stir and Martin gripped his arm. “Not yet,” Longbow whispered.
Garret whispered back, “What are they doing this far north?”
Martin shook his head. “They’ve slipped in behind our patrols along the foothills. We’ve grown lax in the south, Garret. We never thought they’d move north this far west of the mountains.” He waited silently for a moment, then whispered, “Perhaps they tire of the Green Heart and are trying for the Northlands to join their brothers.”
Garret started to speak, but stopped when another Dark Brother entered the spot vacated by the others a moment before. He looked around, then raised his hand in signal. Other figures appeared along the trail intersecting the one Martin’s men had traveled. In ones, twos, and threes, Dark Brothers crossed the path, disappearing into the trees.
Garret sat holding his breath. He could hear Martin counting faintly as the figures crossed their field of vision: “. . . ten, twelve, fifteen, sixteen, eighteen . . .”
The stream of dark-cloaked figures continued, seemingly unending to Garret. “. . . thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-four . . .”
As the crossing continued, larger numbers of Brothers appeared, and after a time Martin whispered, “There are more than a hundred.”
Still they came, some now carrying bundles on their backs and shoulders. Many wore the dark grey mountain cloaks, but others were dressed in green, brown, or black clothing. Garret leaned close to Martin and whispered, “You are right. It is a migration north. I mark over two hundred.”
Martin nodded. “And still they come.”
For many more minutes the Dark Brothers crossed the trail, until the flood of warriors was replaced by ragged-looking females and young. When they had passed, a company of twenty fighters crossed the trail, and then the area was quiet.
They waited a moment in silence. Garret said, “They are elven-kin to move so large a number through the forest undetected so long.”
Martin smiled. “I’d advise you not mention that fact to the next elf you encounter.” He stood slowly, unbending cramped muscles from the long sitting in the brush. A faint sound echoed from the east, and Martin got a thoughtful look on his face. “How far along the trail do you judge the Dark Brothers’ march?”
Garret said, “At their rear, a hundred yards; at the van, perhaps a quarter mile or less. Why?”
Martin grinned, and Garret became discomforted by the mocking humor in his eyes. “Come, I think I know where we can have some fun.”
Garret groaned softly, “Ah, Huntmaster, my skin gets a poxy feeling when you mention fun.”
Martin struck the man a friendly blow to the chest with the back of his hand. “Come, stout fellow.” The Huntmaster broke trail, with Garret behind. They loped along through the woods, easily avoiding obstacles that would have hindered less experienced woodsmen.
They came to a break in the trail, and both men halted. Just down the trail, at the edge of their vision in the gloom of the forest, came a company of Tsurani trailbreakers. Martin and Garret faded into the trees, and the Huntmaster said, “The main column is close behind. When they reach the crossing where the Dark Brothers passed, they might chance to follow.”