“Welcome,” said Arutha.
Martin mounted and, without words, Galain ran on ahead to scout the way. They moved swiftly upward, the falls chilling them despite the early summer warmth. At these heights hail and occasionally snow were not uncommon except in the hottest months of summer, still weeks away. The nights had been damp, though not as bitter as had been feared, for they made cold camp. The elves had given them trail rations, dried meat and hard cakes of nut flour and dried fruit—nourishing but cheerless fare.
The trail led along the face of the cliffs, until it came out in a high meadow, overlooking the valley. A silver, sparkling lake lapped its shores gently in the late afternoon light, the only sound being the singing of birds and the rustling of the wind in the trees. Jimmy looked about. “How can . . . how can the day be so nice when we move toward nothing but trouble?”
Roald said. “One thing about soldiering: if you’re going to risk dying, there’s no sense doing it wet, cold, and hungry unless absolutely necessary. Enjoy the sunshine, lad. It’s a gift.”
They watered their horses. After a welcome rest, they continued onward. The path Calin had spoken about, north of the lake, was easily found but steep and difficult to negotiate.
As sunset approached, Galain returned with news of a promising cave in which they might safely build a small fire. “It is curved, twice, and the air moves upward through fissures that will carry smoke away. Martin, if we leave now, we might have time to hunt game near the lakes edge. “
Arutha said, “Don’t be overly long in the hunt. Signal your approach with that raven’s honk you do so well, or you’ll be greeted by some sword points.”
Martin nodded once, giving the reins of his horse to Jimmy. He said. Two hours after sunset at the latest,” and he and Galain were heading back down the trail toward the lake.
Roald and Baru took point, and after a five-minute ride found the cave Galain had mentioned. It was flat, wide, and free of other occupants. Jimmy explored back and found it narrow after a hundred feet, so that unexpected visitors would have to come through the mouth. Laurie and Baru gathered wood and the first fire in days was built, though it was a small one. Jimmy and Arutha settled in with the others, waiting for Martin and Galain.
Martin and Galain lay in wait. They had constructed a natural-looking blind, using brush gathered from other parts of the woods. They were certain they could observe any animal coming down to the lake’s edge without being seen. They had lain downwind from the lake, neither speaking, for half an hour when the sound of hooves upon the rocks sounded from below the cliff.
Both nocked arrows, but otherwise remained silent. Into the meadow from the trail below rode a dozen horsemen, dressed in black. Each wore the strange dragon helm seen at Sarth, and their heads moved constantly, as if they looked for something—or someone. Then behind them came Murad, his cheek still showing the additional cut Arutha had given him on the road to Sarth.
The Black Slayers reined in and watered their mounts, staying in the saddle. Murad seemed relaxed but alert. For a silent ten minutes they let the horses drink.
When they were finished watering the horses, they moved out, turning up the trail after Arutha’s band. When they were out of sight, Martin said, “They must have come in between Yabon and Stone Mountain to have avoided your forests. Tathar is correct in his assumption that they will move to Moraelin to wait for us.”
Galain said, “Few things in life disturb me, Martin, but those Black Slayers are one.”
“You’re just now coming to that conclusion?”
“You humans are given to overreaction upon occasion.” Galain looked to where the riders had gone.
Martin said, “They will overtake Arutha and the others shortly. If this Murad can track, then they will find the cave.”
Galain stood. “Let us hope that Hadati knows his trail craft. If not, at least we will be attacking from the rear.”
Martin smiled a grim smile. “That will certainly be of comfort to those in the cave. Thirteen against five, and only one way in or out.”
Without further comment, they shouldered their bows and began to lope up the trail behind the moredhel.