out his hand to Mumr and helped his friend settle behind him. My elk was a match for the size of Runner in the Moonlight and I was just trying to figure out how I was going to clamber up on it, when the animal went down on its knees. I quickly settled on its back, which was wet from the rain. Kli-Kli, determined not to let me get away, sat behind me and grabbed hold of my jacket.
The elk straightened its legs out smoothly, and to avoid falling off, I grabbed hold of one of its horns with my hand (the other hand was holding the krasta). The beast didn’t seem to object to this familiar treatment. With the elf’s help, the dryads loaded Hallas onto a third elk. Sunpatch stayed with the wounded gnome, holding him tightly round the waist. Egrassa and Fluffy Cloud were on Runner in the Moonlight.
“I thank you once again, Mistress, for the help that you have given us,” Egrassa said in farewell. “The doors of my house are always open to the Daughters of the Forest, and no malice will be found in it. This I swear on the honor of my clan.”
“Do not thank me, king. Thank the forest,” said the little girl with wise eyes, looking up at the elf towering over her. “Perhaps I shall find the time to come to your house when there is peace and nothing threatens the balance. I hope so. But enough, I can already hear Boomer and his warriors on their way here. You should leave. After battle they are always hungry, and there were too few orcs to satisfy the Children of the Forest. If they decide to dine on you, not even I will be able to stop them. You had better go.”
Waving her hand in farewell, Babbling Brook turned away from us. Taking this gesture as a command, Runner in the Moonlight set off at a fast trot toward the trees shrouded in mist.
Babbling Brook was right—the elk were much better than the finest of horses. The four animals raced through Zagraba, without stopping, until nightfall. In places where horses would have fallen, broken their legs, or simply not been able to get through, the elk just kept going.
Runner in the Moonlight forged straight ahead, smashing through the bushes and undergrowth with his mighty hooves. Swampy hollows, swollen by the continuous rain, and stretches of fallen trees were crossed at a run, or in mighty bounding leaps. The elk were tireless, and in half a day we covered a distance that would have taken horses at least three days, or even four.
At first I was afraid of falling off, but my misgivings proved groundless. Even in the densest thickets, the beast moved so smoothly that the king’s horses would have died of envy if they could have seen it.
When twilight started drawing in, Fluffy Cloud asked Runner in the Moonlight to stop, and jumped down lightly to the ground. We followed her example and then took Hallas down off the elk. The gnome had still not recovered consciousness, but now at least he was not as pale as in the morning. The wounded warrior was groaning quietly.
“He has a fever,” said Sunpatch. “The wound has almost healed over, but he is still weak.”
“Light a fire,” Egrassa told Eel.
The Garrakian glanced at the dryad, but the elf shook his head.
“She has nothing against fire.”
The elk disappeared into the forest, and Fluffy Cloud said they would come back at dawn. Sunpatch attended to the gnome, with Kli-Kli hanging around nearby. Fluffy Cloud handed out fresh flapjacks, so we didn’t go hungry. Then the dryad went up to the golden-leaf, laid her hand on its trunk, and asked the tree to protect us from the rain. I swear on my first Commission that the tree did as she asked! It seemed to lean down over us, and its branches wove themselves into something very much like a huge awning.
“You have a heavy day tomorrow,” Fluffy Cloud said. “You need a good night’s sleep, if you do not wish to fall off your mounts.”
Egrassa tried to appoint sentries for the night, but the dryad made a disdainful face at that.
“You can sleep easy. You are in no danger while we are here.”
“What about the Firstborn?”
“They would not dare to attack Daughters of the Forest. Have no fear.”
Egrassa seemed perfectly satisfied with what the dryad had said, and he lay down to sleep without wasting any more time. Eel followed his example. Mumr sat beside the fire for a little while, sighing to himself, and then also settled down for the night.
“What’s the matter, Harold?” Kli-Kli asked me.
“I’m not sleepy,” I lied. “You go ahead, it’s all right. I’ll sit here for a while.”
“I’m not sleepy, either,” the gobliness replied.
Sunpatch sat opposite us and stared without blinking into the flames of the fire. Fluffy Cloud disappeared into the darkness of the forest. We didn’t speak, and Kli-Kli’s head gradually began nodding. Then Glo-Glo’s granddaughter was completely overcome and she dropped off, snuggled up against my shoulder. She even started snoring. She was tired, and no wonder—we were all very tired after that day.
A hard day. An appalling day. A black day. Like so many others in recent months. Our group had suffered grievous, irreparable losses. I still couldn’t believe that the ginger-headed dwarf was dead and had been abandoned to the mercy of the forest spirits.
Deler had paid for Hallas’s life with his own, and if not for the dryads, that terrible price would have been paid in vain. Deler was gone now, like so many other members of the small band of brothers that had set out with me to retrieve the Rainbow Horn. Alistan had walked away into the mist, leading the orcs after him, and disappeared. And the most terrible thing was that now we would never know what had happened to the count, how he had died.
Died?
I was burying the captain of the royal guard too soon. I hadn’t seen his body, so for me he would always be alive. Perhaps Milord Alistan had managed to get away from the Firstborn. Sensing someone’s glance on me, I looked at the Daughter of the Forest.
“He will not come, man.”
“How do you know … madam?”
“The forest and the forest spirits told me. You do not hear them. Believe me, I am very sorry that we could not come sooner.”
“How…” I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. “How did he die?”
“Do you really wish to know?” she asked, with the flames of the campfire reflected in her big black eyes. “Why do you need that pain? He is dead, is that not enough?”
“No, not for me.”
“Very well, look. And do not tell me afterward that I did not warn you.”
Her black eyes suddenly blazed up in a flash of intense green light and, before I realized what was happening, the world was plunged into darkness.
The hunting horns called triumphantly to each other behind his back, but he ran on and on, leading the orcs farther away from the group. He hoped very much that Egrassa would be able to lead them out of this accursed forest, and then there would be some hope for Valiostr. The phantoms created by the old shaman’s spell glided silently along at his back, leaving clear tracks on the earth and the leaves.
He ran quickly, but tried to husband his strength, so that he would not be winded for the battle ahead. Count Alistan Markauz had no illusions that he might escape. He knew that sooner or later the Firstborn would catch him, and there was little chance that he would survive the encounter.
The forest went on and on, with no gaps between the close-growing maples. There was mist on all sides and the long run that had brought him to the limit of his strength was no longer important. It was time to find a place to die. He had never thought he would die like this, out in the rain and mist of the bleak autumn forest.
The captain was not afraid of death; he had seen more than his share of it in his time. But he regretted that no one would know how he had died. In his young days he had seen himself dying as a hero on the battlefield, defending the banner or shielding the young king with his body. A beautiful death, worthy to be celebrated in song. But Death was not to be chosen; she decided for herself when to come to a man and take him to the light. Or the darkness. The end was the same for all, and what difference did it make where you died—at the heart of a raging battle, or in a misty forest?
He would sell his life dearly—for him the most important thing was that the orcs must not use their bows, but engage him in combat. Of course, the captain need not have drawn the pursuit after him, he could have given that task to Eel or Lamplighter, but then how would he have been able to sleep at night, knowing he had sent another
