The gryphons-and presumably the archer-had gone in pursuit of the enemy creatures once their combined attack had broken the beasts' circle and forced them into flight. Neither the Heralds nor their Companions had been in any shape to join the chase.
Gwena plodded over to Elspeth's side and nosed her arm..At least that piece of tin is useful as a Healer,' the Companion observed. Are we going to find somewhere safe to rest, do you think? Someplace secure? I'd really like to go sleep for a week or so.'
'Unless those gryphons saved us just to eat us themselves, I think we are,' Elspeth responded, unable to muster much concern over the prospect of becoming gryphon-fodder. She had just learned the truth of something Quenten had warned her about. It took energy to use energy-and hers was spent, and overspent. Right now she was just about ready to pass out, safe or not.
But the sound of a falcon's cry made her look up; there was an enormous raptor skimming along, barely clearing the tops of the stones, winging his way out of the forest. An omen? That would be all they needed now; something more to wonder about.
For a moment, she thought it was her weary, blurring eyes that made the vegetation behind him seem to move, as if part of the forest had separated and was walking toward her. But then, the 'vegetation' stepped a little farther out into the open and became a man.
Her hiss of warning brought Skif's head up, and they both struggled to their feet to meet the stranger standing, their Companions moving a little into the shadows out of immediate sight as they rose. She stood so that Need was not so obviously still in her hand; no point in looking belligerent.
He was a somber-looking young man, tall, taller than Skif, and slender. And handsome, strikingly handsome, with a sculptured face and tough, graceful body. He'd already slung his bow across his back; a longbow, much more finely-crafted than anything Elspeth had ever seen in use before. His green, gray, and brown clothing blended so well with the forest that he faded into the background every time he paused. His long hair was an odd, mottled brown that helped with the camouflage-effect considerably. As he neared, Elspeth saw that he had the same piercing, ice-blue eyes and bone structure of the Shin'a'in she had seen, though his complexion was a paler gold than theirs.
As the man drew nearer, the falcon wheeled and returned. Without looking, the stranger held out his gauntleted wrist, and the falcon-muc' larger, she realized, than any bird she had ever seen, other than, say, an eagle-dropped down gracefully to his fist, and settled itself with a flip of its wings.
That was when she finally made the connection. Dear gods-he must be one of the Hawkbrothers. She felt as if she really had stepped into the pages of a legend; first she was visited by a Shin'a'in Kal'enedral, then chased by monsters, then rescued by gryphons-and now here was a Hawkbrother, a creature out of legends so remote that she had only found references to them in Vanyel's chronicles. Moondance and Starwind, Vanyel's friends-Mages, Adepts in fact, from the Clan of k'treva.
The man paused at a polite distance from the Heralds, and frowned, as if he wasn't certain how to address them, or which of them to speak to first. She wondered if she should solve his quandary.
But before she could speak, he made up his mind. 'Who are you?'
he demanded arrogantly in trade-tongue. 'What are you doing in Tayledras lands? Why are you here?' And who are you to ask? I didn't see any boundary markers! She drew herself up, answering his arrogance with pride of her own. 'Herald Elspeth and Herald Skif, out of Valdemar. And we were chased here by monsters, as you likely noticed,' she replied stiffly, in the same language.' We didn't exactly plan on it, and we didn't stop to ask directions.
Any more questions?' To her surprise, he actually started to smile, at least a little. But that was when Gwena poked her nose from behind her Chosen, and looked at him with a combination of inquiry and tentative approval. His eyes widened and, to Elspeth's amazement, he paled.
She took an involuntary step backward, and that brought Need into view. He glanced down, took a second, very surprised look, and went a little whiter.
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like Shin'a'in, but was different enough that she couldn't make out what he was saying.
It seemed to have something to do with bodily functions.
Well, as long as he'd seen the damned sword and hadn't interpreted it as hostility, she might as well put it away properly. She turned a little, fished a cleaning rag out of Gwena's saddlebag as he watched her warily, and began wiping the blade clean.
It practically cleaned itself. Then again, maybe that wasn't surprising, all things considered. The Hawkbrother mumbled something again, and she looked up as she sheathed her sword properly, and wiped off her filthy hand. 'What did you say?' she asked politely, but with a touch of the same arrogance he had been showing them.
He shook his head, but he did seem to be unbending just a little.
'Never mind,' he said, 'It matters not. It would seem that I am to add you to the colony of Outlanders I am collecting.'
