Two of the mercenaries were light sleepers: they were up with weapons drawn in seconds. “Garth!” one shouted. “What is it?’’
Tal assumed that was the name of the man he killed, so he retreated deeper into the woods. As he lost sight of the camp, he heard a man shout, “Raven!’’
Tal hurried, dodging through the woods as he heard Raven’s voice clearly for the first time. “Fan out! Find him!’’
Tal knew he couldn’t stand and fight. He was too fatigued and not thinking clearly. He had missed an opportunity to kill the two men who were awake, and perhaps finish off the other three before they could have got to cover. He had made a mistake, and it could cost him his life.
He heard movement behind him and knew that at least one of the raiders was able to track. He saw an outcropping of rock, a ridge that ran for a hundred yards before it rose to be too high to climb, and he leapt up onto it. As if walking a tightrope, he hurried along it as fast as he could, then where the rock became impassable, he jumped down and took cover.
He drew another arrow and waited.
Whoever was tracking him was good, he was forced to admit after a few minutes of waiting. He heard nothing and saw nothing.
He continued to wait.
After a few more minutes had passed, something changed. It was difficult to assess exactly what it was, but one moment the noises in the woods—the air rustling through the branches barely more audible than a whisper, the fall of leaves and needles—changed.
Tal knew it wasn’t important to understand what the change was, only that it meant he was not alone. He hunkered down behind the outcropping of rock and sniffed the air, looked for shadows that didn’t belong, listened for anything that would reveal the whereabouts of his pursuer.
Time seemed to drag past, but Tal knew that whoever was behind him was playing the same game, waiting for him to make a mistake.
There came the faintest noise, the tiny grinding of a boot sole against rock, and Tal sprang up and whirled about. For a brief moment, his enemy’s face was in his sights. Time stood still while Tal ordered his fingers to release his arrow, and as he did so, he was able to take in details he would not have been able to imagine before this moment. The man’s hair was black, dusty from having rolled on the ground at one point, perhaps fearing another arrow shot after Tal had killed the sentry. He was dark-skinned, perhaps Keshian in ancestry, for his eyes were almost black. There was a slight flicker of recognition in those eyes: a mix of fear and resignation, as the arrow left Tal’s bow. The man’s muscles began to tense, as if he was about to cry out or try to move, but before whatever act he had begun could complete itself, the arrow struck him through the throat.
The man’s eyes widened in shock, then the light in them went out before he crumpled and fell away out of Tal’s sight.
Tal scrambled over the rocks and quickly examined the man. He carried only his weapons. Tal kept his own bow, but added the tracker’s arrows to his supply.
He glanced around to see if any of the other raiders might be close by, but he saw and heard nothing.
Leaving the dead man for the carrion-eaters, Tal hurried away.
Now there were only four left.
Tal slept. He had found a small notch cut by a stream, and there he had left his horse tied. It would take horrible luck or an excellent tracker to find him. Tal trusted to luck: he had killed their best tracker, he was certain.
Besides, he suspected Raven would wait for only an hour or two before gathering up his remaining three companions and fleeing south. For all the raiders’ captain knew, Tal had been an advanced scout and two dozen Orodon warriors might be riding fast to overtake him.
He had rummaged through the bag of food given him the night before and found hard cheese, bread almost as hard as the cheese, and some dried fruit. Nourishing if lacking flavor. He ate it all, knowing that saving food now would be a mistake. He could pass out from hunger after he had killed Raven.
He had rolled up as best he could under an overhanging rock, ignoring the damp and cold, determined to rest for a few hours. In his sleep he dreamed, and in that dream he was on top of the mountain peak of Shatana Higo again, waiting for his vision, filled with anticipation for his coming manhood ceremony. When he awoke, he rose and made ready to begin the chase again, even though he was still tired to his bones. The cold had got into his joints, and he had to move around to force some warmth back into his body. He gauged it was less than two hours to sunset, and knew he must have slept for almost three hours.
He had given Raven a lead, but he was sure he could make it up. It would take the raiders three more days of hard riding to reach the flatlands on the road to Coastal Watch. Tal knew if he could find forage along the way and keep his strength up, he would have them before they reached the city.