Gregory squatted down, rubbing his hands together and eyed the notch through which they were passing.
'Already thought of that,' Tinuva said. 'It's too wide here, and there's no cover. We'd be flanked in minutes and cut off.'
'Wish we didn't have the children and women. Without them we could push the pace.'
'Should we have left them behind then?' Tinuva asked.
Gregory smiled and shook his head. 'Being honourable has its drawbacks at times and this is one of them.'
'Yes it does,' Tinuva whispered.
The last of the column trudged past, followed by Dennis and Asayaga who walked in silence. The two slowed and joined Tinuva, and they all looked back to the valley.
Tinuva could see the sadness in Dennis's eyes at the sight of the burning stockade.
'A good ending,' Gregory said softly. 'I bet the old man was singing that song of his, sword in hand. He'd prefer that to the slow wasting of the heart which was killing him anyhow.'
Dennis said nothing for a long minute. 'Any defendable positions?' he asked finally.
Tinuva shook his head and nodded back to the southwest. The slope of the mountain swept down into a vast impenetrable forest, another range of mountains rising up more than twenty miles away.
'I trekked this place long ago,' he said, his voice distant. How long ago was something these men would barely understand. 'Beyond the next range I remember a dwarven road used by their miners for the hauling of ore down to a mill along the river.' As he spoke he pointed to the wooded crest. 'The dwarves from Stone Mountain abandoned the mill and mine years ago when it played out.'
'And the Broad River?' Dennis asked. 'Do we try to circle round back to the ford we used or make a run for the bridge?'
It had been a topic of speculation almost every night after their arrival at Wolfgar's: how to get out. In general they had agreed upon the bridge. Tinuva had been there long ago, but Wolfgar and Roxanne had made a trek to it less than half a dozen years back. The span had still been intact then.
Twice Dennis had attempted to lead a patrol out to check but both times they had turned back, the pass simply impenetrable and one of the men had been lost in an avalanche. So now they would have to make the decision blind. Ten miles past the next range, then on to the road and south to the bridge. All their planning, however, had been predicated on the hope that there would be sufficient warning of Bovai's approach giving them a lead of a day or more to get out. 'If the span is still there and undefended we cross, destroy it, and are home free,' Dennis said, but there was an ironic tone to his voice. 'If he put a blocking force onto the bridge, however, or worst yet destroyed the span, we are trapped.'
Dennis looked at his companions.
'The ford is in the opposite direction,' Gregory replied, 'heading back into territory the moredhel control now. Plus, it's another sixty miles or more. They'll swarm over us long before then.'
'To run a blocking force around to the bridge is an extra thirty miles or more,' Tinuva interjected. 'If Bovai came up only within the last few days, we can still outrace them.'
'You don't think they did it?' Dennis asked.
'I didn't say that.'
Dennis nodded. A shower of sparks swirled up from the long house a dozen miles away in the valley below as it collapsed in on itself. It was plainly visible to all and he heard a muffled sob. Alyssa and Roxanne had come back from the head of the column and were sitting astride their mounts, watching as the only home they knew was destroyed. Asayaga turned away from the group and went up to Alyssa's side. Reaching up, he touched her gently on the leg.
'Make for the bridge then, and hope it's there,' Dennis stated in the detached voice he assumed when giving a command.
Tinuva nodded.
'We'd better keep moving,' Dennis said. 'It'll have to be straight out. No stopping until we're across the river.'
'You're talking two days' march with children and women, and a storm brewing,' Gregory interjected. 'Do you see an alternative?'
Dennis looked back at Tinuva who said nothing, his gaze locked on the valley below.
'He's there.'
Bovai reined his mount about, looking up to the distant pass highlighted by the brilliant light of dawn. He could see the antlike column disappearing over the notch, but far more powerful than what he could see with his eyes was what he could sense in his soul.
Tinuva was looking at him.
The long house and the entire stockade was an inferno. It had served its purpose for the night as shelter after the long march of the previous day – there was even food to be found and a few of the old ones foolish enough to be taken alive had provided entertainment for the goblins.
He had vague recollections of old Wolfgar and the stories about his defiance of the King. It was a shame, in a different time and place he might have even suffered him to live, but any friend of his brother was a sworn enemy and besides, the old man had decided to go down fighting.
'Did you send for me?'
It was Corwin.
Bovai nodded, barely looking down at the man who was still wearing the robes of a monk. 'I expect you to get mounted and guide us.'
'The path they've left, I don't think you need a guide.'
Bovai could sense the fear. It would be just like Hartraft and Tinuva to have laid traps to slow the advance; there might even be a few left behind and this fat one was afraid of an ambush.
'Nevertheless, mount and go forward.'
'I think my services to you could be better rendered in other ways.'
Bovai finally looked down and fixed him with his gaze. 'You should have cut the boy's throat to make sure.'
Corwin had told him the boy had fallen to his death, but they had seen Richard's body lying on one of the tables in the long hall.
Corwin had cursed himself for having blurted out the young soldier's name upon seeing him. Had he kept silent, Bovai would never have known his error in judgment, but with the boy having fallen down the side of the path onto the rocks, Corwin had been convinced he was dead.
Bovai continued, 'If you had finished him, this chase would be finished. Hartraft and…' his voice trailed off, for the subject of his brother was not something to be shared.
'Tinuva,' Corwin whispered and gave the flicker of a smile.
Bovai's backhand caught Corwin across the cheek flayed open by Richard's dagger and the man staggered back.
'You have no right to dare mention his name in my presence,' Bovai snarled. 'I gave you a task and you failed. You failed to lure them into Brendan's Stockade, you failed to drive a wedge between them, you allowed the boy to escape and warn them.'
'I've served you for ten years,' Corwin said coldly, hand cupped over the side of his face, a trickle of blood leaking out between his fingers.
'And?'
Corwin hesitated.
'Go on.'
Corwin's eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and crafty, like a cornered rat's.
'Your men have been whispering during the night. They are angry, exhausted. They know Tinuva is with Hartraft and they fear him. Many whisper that you are more interested in settling the affairs of your vendetta rather than finishing off Hartraft so they can go home.'
'Always the ferret, aren't you?'
'It is how I survive. The beauty of my betrayals are that men, even those of your race, trust me up till the moment I slip the dagger between their ribs or serve them a flagon of brandy. Don't waste that talent lightly. Our master has plans for me.'
'And you would betray me in a heartbeat if it furthered whatever dark goals you sought.'
