Like hornets the Tsurani descended, but Longbow and Garret were off to the southwest before the note from the hunter’s horn had died in the air. They dashed to be gone before the Tsurani caught sight of them, aborting the hoax. Suddenly they broke through a thicket and ran into a group of women and children milling about. One young woman of the Brotherhood was placing a bundle upon the ground. She stopped at the sight of the two men. Garret had to slide to a halt to keep from bowling her over.
Her large brown eyes studied him for an instant as he stepped sideways to get around her. Without thinking, Garret said, “Excuse me, ma’am,” and raised his hand to his forelock. Then he was off after the Huntmaster as shouts of surprise and anger erupted behind them.
Martin called a halt after they had covered another quarter mile and listened. To the northeast came the sounds of battle, shouts and screams, and the ring of weapons. Martin grinned. “They’ll both be busy for a while.”
Garret sank wearily to the ground and said, “Next time send me to the castle, will you, Huntmaster?”
Martin kneeled beside the tracker. “That should prevent the Tsurani from reaching Crydee until sundown or after. They won’t be able to mount an attack until tomorrow. Four hundred Dark Brothers are not something they can safely leave at their rear. We’ll rest a bit, then make for Crydee.”
Garret leaned back against a tree. “Welcome news.” He let out a long sigh of relief. “That was a close thing, Huntmaster.”
Martin smiled enigmatically. “All life is a close thing, Garret.”
Garret shook his head slowly. “Did you see that girl?”
Martin nodded. “What of her?”
Garret looked perplexed. “She was pretty no, closer to being beautiful, in a strange sort of way, I mean. But she had long black hair, and her eyes were the color of otter’s fur. And she had a pouty mouth and pert look. Enough to warrant a second glance from most men. It’s not what I would have expected from the Brotherhood.”
Martin nodded “The moredhel are a pretty people, in truth, as are the elves. But remember, Garret,” he said with a smile, “should you chance to find yourself exchanging pleasantries with a moredhel woman again, she’d as soon cut your heart out as kiss you.”
They rested for a while as cries and shouts echoed from the northeast. Then slowly they stood and began the return to Crydee.
Since the start of the war, the Tsurani had confined their activities to those areas immediately adjacent the valley in the Grey Towers. Reports from the dwarves and the elves revealed mining activities were taking place in the Grey Towers. Enclaves had been thrown up outside the valley, from which they raided Kingdom positions. Once or twice during the year they would mount an offensive against the Dukes’ Armies of the West, the elves in Elvandar, or Crydee, but for the most part they were content to hold what they had already taken.
And each year they would expand their holdings, building more enclaves, expanding the area under their control, and gaining themselves a stronger position from which to conduct the next year’s campaign. Since the fall of Wahnor, the expected thrust toward the coast of the Bitter Sea had not materialized, nor had the Tsurani again tried for the LaMutian fortresses near Stone Mountain. Walinor and Crydee town were sacked and abandoned, more to deny them to the Kingdom and Free Cities than for any Tsurani gain. By the spring of the third year of the war, the leaders of the Kingdom forces despaired of a major attack, one that might break the stalemate. Now it came. And it came at the logical place, the allies’ weakest front, the garrison at Crydee.
Arutha looked out over the walls at the Tsurani army. He stood next to Gardan and Fannon, with Martin Longbow behind. “How many?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the gathering host.
Martin spoke. “Fifteen hundred, two thousand, it is hard to judge. There were two thousand more coming yesterday, less whatever the Dark Brotherhood took with them.”
From the distant woods the sounds of workmen felling trees rang out. The Swordmaster and Huntmaster judged the Tsurani were cutting trees to build scaling ladders.
Martin said, “I’d never thought to hear myself say such, but I wish there’d been four thousand Dark Brothers in the forest yesterday.”
Gardan spat over the wall. “Still, you did well, Huntmaster. It is only fitting they should run afoul of each other.”
Martin chuckled humorlessly. “It is also a good thing the Dark Brothers kill on sight. Though I am sure they do it out of no love for us, they do guard our southern flank.”
Arutha said, “Unless yesterday’s band was not an isolated case. If the Brotherhood is abandoning the Green Heart, we may soon have to fear for Tulan, Jonril, and Carse.”
“I’m glad they’ve not parleyed,” said Fannon. “If they should truce . . .”
Martin shook his head. “The moredhel will traffic only with weapons runners and renegades who will serve them for gold. Otherwise they have no use for us. And by all evidence, the Tsurani are bent on conquest. The moredhel are no more spared their ambition than we are.”