picking up its trail and beginning the long process of backtracking it to the west. They ran through the timberline and on toward the rocky hills. The moon had risen before they arrived, but the night sky was clear and Gwalchmai pointed up to the boulder-covered hillside.
“I think Agwaine sought refuge in the caves,” he said, and they climbed the slope, seeking a sign.
“We must bear in mind,” said Layne, “that the beast will come back tonight after it has fed.”
It was Gaelen who found the boy, wedged deep in a narrow cleft in the rocks halfway up the slope. “Agwaine, are you all right?” he called.
“Sweet Gods, I thought it was the beast come back,” said Agwaine. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he gritted his teeth to strangle the sobs he knew were close to the surface. Gaelen reached down as Agwaine climbed closer and he pulled him clear as the others gathered around. Agwaine was unhurt, but his face showed the strain he had endured. His eyes seemed sunken and blue rings stained the sockets.
“It came at us from nowhere,” he said. “It beheaded Cael. Ectas was next; as he turned to run, the beast opened his back with one sweep of its talons. There was nothing to do but run. I was at the back and I turned and sprinted away. Draig was right behind me. I heard his screaming, but it was cut short and I knew I was the only one left. I could hear it chasing me and I ran as never before. It found me here, but it couldn’t reach me.”
“We must get away, cousin,” put in Layne.
“Yes. No! First I must get something. I threw it away as we ran.”
“We can’t go back in those woods,” hissed Gwalchmai.
“We must. It’s not far; I threw it as I saw the slope.”
“What can be that important?” asked Layne. “Even now the beast may be coming.”
“You set off then and I’ll catch up,” said Agwaine.
“Damn you, cousin, you know we cannot do that.”
“Let’s find the cursed thing,” said Gaelen. “I don’t want to spend all night discussing this.”
Agwaine led them back to the woods. Gaelen was furious, but he held himself in check. He knew what Agwaine was seeking. The sword. Agwaine had found the sword.
The woods loomed dark and threatening and the boys drew their knives. Little good would they be, thought Gaelen. He glanced at Gwalchmai. His friend’s face was pinched and ashen in the moonlight. Only Lennox seemed unconcerned.
Agwaine held up his arm and then stopped. The Hunt Lord’s son disappeared into the bushes, returning quickly with a long closely tied package.
“Let’s go,” he said, and led them away down toward the falls. The shifting wind made them take wide detours to avoid their scent being carried to the beast, and dawn found them below Attafoss with the river to the left, a section of woods before them. They were tired, but the fear of the beast was upon them and they hesitated before entering the woods.
Daggers held firm, they walked warily, but as they moved under the overhanging branches a voice jolted them. Gwalchmai dropped his dagger in fright, then scooped it up swiftly.
“Good morning, boys.”
To their right, in a circular clearing, a woman was sitting on a fallen oak. At her feet was a blanket on which was laid a breakfast of black bread and cold meat.
She was dressed in a manner they had never seen before. Upon her shoulders was a mail scarf of closely linked silver rings. Beneath this she wore a fitted breastplate of silver, embossed with a copper hawk, its wings spread wide, disappearing beneath the mail scarf. About her waist was a leather kilt, studded with copper and split into sections for ease of movement. She wore dark leggings and silver greaves over riding boots. Her arms were bare save for a thick bracelet of silver on her right wrist; on her left was a wrist guard of black leather.
And she was old. Thick silver hair swept back from a face lined with wisdom and sorrow. But her eyes were bright, ice-blue, and her bearing straight and unbending.
Gaelen watched her closely, noting the way she looked at them all.
She must have been beautiful when young, he thought. But there was something in her expression he could not pinpoint; it seemed a mixture of wonder and regret.
“Will you join me for breakfast?” she invited.
“Who are you?” asked Agwaine.
The woman smiled. “I am Sigarni-the Queen,” she said.
“We have no queens in the Farlain,” said Layne.
“I am the Queen Beyond,” she said, with a slow smile.
“You are on Farlain land,” Agwaine told her sternly. “No stranger is allowed here. Are you from the Aenir?”
“No, Agwaine. I am a guest of the Lord Taliesen.”
“Can you prove this?”
“I don’t feel the need to. You boys are here on the Hunt. Taliesen asked if he could borrow my sword for it. If you open the package you will find it-a beautiful weapon of metal which one of you will have seen. The hilt is of ebony, and shaped for a warrior to hold with both hands, while the guard is of iron decorated with gold and silver thread. The scabbard is embossed with a hawk, even as on my breastplate. Now open the package and return what is mine.”
“Open it,” said Layne. “If it is true, then the sword must be returned to its rightful owner.”
“No, it is mine,” said Agwaine, flushing. “I won the Hunt and this is my proof.”
“You don’t need proof,” said Gaelen. “We know you won, the sword is only a symbol. Open the package.”
Agwaine drew his dagger and sliced the leather thongs binding the oilskins. As the woman had predicted, the sword was indeed a wondrous weapon. Reluctantly Agwaine handed it over. The woman swiftly buckled the scabbard to her waist. Had there been any doubt as to the ownership, it was laid to rest as she placed it at her side. It was like watching a picture completed, thought Gaelen.
The sword in place, she returned to her seat on the tree. She gestured at the food. “Come. Eat your fill,” she said. “I was expecting eight of you. Where are the others?”
The boys exchanged glances.
“They are dead,” said Gaelen.
“Dead?” asked the Queen, rising to her feet gracefully. “How so?”
Gaelen told of the beast and their flight from the mountains.
“Damn!” she said. “Taliesen came to me in a dream yester-eve. He told me you were lost upon the mountain and that I should seek you here. He said nothing of a beast.”
“He came to me also,” said Gaelen. “And he said nothing of a queen.”
She smiled without humor. “So be it, then. The ways of wizards are a mystery to me and I pray they’ll stay that way. Now, describe this creature.”
All of them started to speak at once, but she waved them to silence and pointed to Agwaine. “You saw it closely. You speak.”
Agwaine did as he was bid, recalling vividly the power of the brute and its awesome size, its speed, and its semihuman appearance.
“You are right to consider running,” said the woman when he had finished. “I have seen the like of the beast before in my own kingdom. More than once. They are terrible-and hard to slay. Although it kills to eat, once it has fixed on a prey it will pursue it damn near forever. This beast has-in a way-been hunting me for forty years.”
“Why you?” whispered Gaelen.
“It was sent a long time ago by a sorcerer named Jakuta Khan. But that is a story for another day, Gaelen.”
“What can we do?” asked Layne.
“You can eat breakfast and put some strength in your limbs. Then we will plan for battle.”
The companions seated themselves at her feet and dug into the loaves and meat. The bread tasted fresh- baked and the beef was tender and pink. They ate without gusto, except for Lennox who tore great chunks of bread and crammed them into his mouth.
The Queen watched him, eyebrows raised. “You were perhaps expecting a famine?”
“Either that or he’s going to cause one,” observed Gwalchmai.
