“Riders come,” said Baru. Jimmy was instantly covering the fire with dirt, carried in against the need. That way the fire would die quickly without smoke. Then Laurie touched Jimmy on the arm and motioned that he should come to the rear of the cave to help quiet the horses. Roald, Baru, and Arutha moved forward to where they could, they hoped, see out of the cave mouth without being seen.
The evening looked murky dark after the bright fire, but soon their eyes adjusted and they could see the riders passing by the cave. The rearmost pulled up a moment before the others answered some silent command and halted. He looked about, as if sensing something nearby. Arutha fingered his talisman, hoping the moredhel was simply cautious and not feeling his presence.
A cloud passed from before the little moon, the only one up this early, and the vista before the cave became slightly more illuminated. Baru stiffened at sight of Murad, for the hillman could now clearly see the moredhel. He had begun to draw his sword when Arutha’s hand gripped his wrist. The Prince hissed in the hillman’s ear, “Not yet!”
Barn’s body trembled as he struggled against his desire to avenge his family’s death and complete his Bloodquest. He burned to attack the moredhel without regard for his own safety, but there were his companions to consider.
Then Roald gripped the back of the Hadati’s neck and put his cheek against Baru’s, so he could speak into his ear almost without sound. “If the twelve in black cut you down before you reach Murad, what honor do you to your village’s memory?”
Baru’s sword slipped noiselessly back into its sheath.
Silently they watched as Murad surveyed the surroundings. His eyes fell on the mouth of the cave. He peered at the entrance, and for a moment Arutha could feel the scar-faced moredhel’s eyes upon him. Then they were moving again . . . then they were gone.
Arutha crept forward until he hung out of the cave, watching for signs the riders were returning. Suddenly a voice behind said, “I thought a cave bear might have run you all out of there.”
Arutha spun, his heart racing and his sword coming out of its scabbard, to find Martin and Galain standing behind. He put up his weapon and said, “I could have run you through.”
The others appeared and Galain said, “They should have investigated, but they seemed determined to be somewhere in a hurry. So we might do well to follow. I’ll keep them under watch and mark the trail.”
Arutha said, “What if another bank of Dark Brothers comes along? Won’t they find your trail markings?”
“Only Martin will recognize my trail markings. No mountain moredhel can track like an elf.” He shouldered his bow and began to run after the riders.
As he vanished into the night’s gloom, Laurie said, “What if the Dark Brothers are forest dwellers?”
Galain’s voice came back out of the dark: “I’ll have almost as much to worry about as you will.”
After Galain was out of earshot, Martin said, “I wish he were only joking.”
Galain ran back down the trail, motioning toward a stand of trees off to the left of the road. They hurried to the trees and dismounted. They led the mounts down into a draw, as deep into the woods as possible. Galain whispered, “A patrol comes.” He, Martin, and Arutha hurried back to the edge of the trees where they could spy anyone on the trail.
A few minutes passed with agonizing slowness; then a dozen riders came down the mountain road, a mixed band of moredhel and men. The moredhel were wearing cloaks and were clearly forest dwellers from the south. They rode past without pause, and when they were out of sight, Martin said, “Renegades now flock to Murmandamus’s banner.” He almost spit as he said, “There are few I’d gladly kill, but humans who would serve the moredhel for gold are among them.”
As they returned to the others, Galain said to Arutha, “There is a camp athwart the road a mile above here. They are clever, for it is a difficult passage around the camp, and we would need to leave your horses here. It is that or ride through the camp.”
“How far to the lake is it?” asked the Prince.
“Only a few miles. But once past the camp we rise above the tree line and there is little cover, save down among the rocks. It will be a slow passage, and better done at night. There are bound to be scouts around and many guards on the road to the bridge.”
“What about the second entrance the gwali told of?”
“If we understood rightly, by descending down into the Tracks of the Hopeless, you’ll find a cave or fissure that will lead through the rock up to the surface of the plateau near the lake.”
Arutha considered. “Let us leave our mounts here . . .”
Laurie said, with a faint smile, “Might as well tether the horses to the trees. If we die, we won’t need them.”
Roald said, “My old captain used to get downright short with soldiers who harped on death before a battle.”
“Enough!” said Arutha. He took a step away, then turned. “I’ve been worrying this over and over. I’ve come this far and I’ll continue, but . . . you may leave now if you wish, and I’ll not object.” He looked at Laurie and Jimmy, then Baru and Roald. He was answered by silence.
Arutha looked from face to face, then nodded brusquely. “Very well. Tie up the horses and lighten your packs. We walk.”