"Why wait for first light?" asked Beau. "I mean, can't we go now?"
"Nay, Sir Beau," replied Phais. "The land of the wold is too rough, too hazardous, for the horses to cross in the night. E'en could we go now, still we may not be able to outpace the Rupt, for ravines and bluffs may bar swift progress. Still, Alor Loric's plan is sound and gives us the best chance to reach the gap ere they do."
"How far is Hath Ford?" asked Tip.
"As flies the raven, ten leagues or so," replied Loric, "though should we encounter barriers, 'twill be more."
"And how far by the road?"
"Mayhap another two leagues."
"And how soon is first light?"
"Ten candlemarks."
Tip frowned in contemplation, but Beau said, "Oh, my, this will be close, eh?"
Loric nodded. "Should the Spaunen delay-to camp or rest ere reaching the ford-then we should be across and gone ere they arrive."
"Then let us hope that Foul Folk legs grow weary and need long rest," said Beau.
They saddled and laded the horses, then fed each of the animals a ration of grain and broke their own fast while waiting for dawn to come creeping o'er the Grimwall. And while they waited, a chill wind sprang up from the west.
Across the high land they fared, pushing as swift as they dared, the wold rugged, then smooth by turns, with rolling hills interrupted by gulches and bluffs and rough stretches of jagged rock. Now and again the direct way would be barred by dense growths of furze and whin and gorse, and Beau would fret and Tip would fume as they were forced east or west and 'round. At times they would come to deep ravines, where they would dismount and lead the horses down and across and out, could they find a way; occasionally they would need ride the rim to locate suitable crossings, and always Tip wondered if they were ahead or behind the Foul Folk on the road. At other times the wold ran in long undulant stretches of loamy soil bearing a soft green sward with scatters of ling, and here they would canter at a goodly clip. Yet they could not run at this pace overlong, for e'en were the land friendly, still they had some thirty miles to go altogether, a long ride for horses they would spare. And so they varied the pace, now and then dismounting to walk or to stop for short rests, though neither Tip nor Beau did aught but pace while waiting to set out again.
But even though they occasionally paused in their journey, the sun did not, its inexorable passage influenced not a whit by the fates of those below.
Weapons in hand, they crept to the brow of the hill, crawling bellydown the last few feet, where they lay in the late afternoon sun and peered intently at the scanty woods alongside the River Hath. To their left the Old Way crossed over the land and down the bank to where the water ran wide, the river yet flowing swift with spring melt from high snow in the distant Grimwall. The road itself was empty, though less than a mile to the north it swung out of sight 'round the flank of a hill.
Long they looked, peering into the ever lengthening shadows as sundown drew nigh.
"I don't see a thing," hissed Beau at last.
"Neither do I," murmured Tip. He turned to Phais. "What do your eagle eyes see?"
"Trees, shadows, a river," murmured Phais, "and nought of Foul Folk. E'en so, it seems unnaturally still, for no birds wing nigh, nor do animals chitter and scurry among the leaves. Too, only in places can I see past the trees at hand and to the far bank beyond." She glanced at Loric. "What sayest thou, chier?"
Loric turned his head to the others and took in all three with his gaze. "There is but one way we will know, and that is to cross over now, ere the sun sets, for if it comes to combat I would not have the Waerlinga's sight and battle skills hampered even one jot by darkness."
At these words, Tip's heart leapt into his throat, and he heard Beau gasp. Tip took a deep breath and then blew it out. "Then we'd better get cracking," he said, looking at the sun now lipping the horizon, the strength in his voice belying the knot in the pit of his stomach.
They slid back from the brow of the hill and then, stooping, made their way down to where they could stand without being seen by anyone nigh the ford. As they reached the horses, Loric said to Phais, "What wouldst thou have, chier? Ride at a gallop or a walk?"
Her brow wrinkled. "At a gallop we chance riding full-speed into an ambush. At a walk, any lying in wait will have longer to prepare."
She looked at Tip.
"The sooner in, the sooner out," said the buccan.
She looked at Beau.
He shrugged.
She turned to Loric and grinned. "As Sir Tipperton has said, the sooner in, the sooner out."
Loric grinned back. "At a gallop, then."
The Lian boosted the Waerlinga onto the packhorses, Phais saying, "Make ready, for even though we saw nought, still there may be Rupt ahead, especially on the far bank where we could not see."
Tip nocked an arrow to string, and Beau loaded his sling with a leaden shot. As Phais turned to mount her steed, Beau said, "I just wish I had practiced at casting from horseback," to which Tip responded, "Who knew, Beau? Who knew?"
Loric mounted and said to Phais, "Chieran?"
Phais smiled at him, her eyes glistering. "Vi chier ir, Loric."
"E vi chier ir," he replied tenderly.
Phais looked ahead and drew her sword, saying, "When we round the cant of the hill…" Then with a light touch of her heels, she urged her horse to a walk. Loric, his own sword in hand, moved forward as well. And riding on packhorses trailing, the buccen followed after.
Around the foot of the hill they went, four horses, two warriors, two Warrows, and when they reached the place where Hath Ford came into view, Phais and Loric spurred the horses to a gallop, the tethered animals running fleetly after.
Now they came to the road, the ford but a furlong ahead, the road itself running a short way to enter among the bordering trees and down to the swift-flowing water.
Along the hard-packed course galloped the horses, then into the long afternoon shadows cast by the verging woods, and within ten running strides the steeds splashed into the chill rush of the ford, their forward pace slowed by the deepening water, the current hock high on the coursers.
And from somewhere behind there sounded a distant bugle blat, a Ruptish horn blowing -Tip gasped and his hands involuntarily clenched, and he nearly lost his grip on the arrow nocked to his bow string. But then relief swept over him. They are behind us! We 've beaten them to the -the blat to be answered by a loud horn blare ahead.
And still the horses lunged through the shallows, while on the opposite bank dark forms rose up among the en-shadowed trees on each side of the road.
"Down!" cried Phais, leaning low against the neck of her steed and spurring the horse forward as black-shafted arrows whined through the air.
And from the back of the following packhorses, Tipper-ton took aim at one of the figures and let fly, reaching down for another arrow even as the one just loosed hissed over the water and into the Somewhere someone screamed, yet not from vicinity where Tip had aimed, but he heard Beau cry out in Twylclass="underline" "Blut vor blut!"
And once again Tip aimed, loosing just as an arrow sissed past his ear; yet whether or not his own shaft sped true he knew not, for he was busy nocking another arrow to string, even as someone among the foe shrieked in agony.
Out from the water and up the far bank now plunged the horses, and howling dark forms rushed into the road ahead. Rucks and such, Tip could now see, and he aimed and loosed again.