Jenrosa, not a natural rider, had to concentrate all the time on staying on her horse, a relief for her, for otherwise her mind would dwell on what would happen once she caught up with Lynan, or on the blank acceptance the Chetts seemed to have for her as their Truespeaker, something she knew with utter certainty she was not and never would be. No Truespeaker would do what I am about to do, she constantly reminded herself. The worst time was at night when they could not risk riding. Clouds scudded across the moon and stars, and every shape and every silhouette reminded Jenrosa of Silona. For all of that, she was far more afraid of Lynan.
Before sleep found her, in her mind's eye the universe seemed to fold and collapse onto one point in time, and each night that point came closer and closer. All her magik seemed to concentrate at that point, and beyond it there was no Lynan at all.
At noon on the fifth day, exhausted and bedraggled, the party could see the outskirts of the forest halfway between them and the horizon. Very quickly Chett scouts found Lynan's dead mare, already partly devoured by scavengers.
'And it was his last mount,' they told her. 'There was only one set of horse tracks.'
'And Lynan?'
'His foot tracks lead straight to the forest.'
'Then we have to hurry!' she cried urgently, and the troop started its last mad dash. Even Jenrosa's magik could not save all the horses this time, and many of the riders dropped behind. By the time the rest of them reached the forest's edge the sun was already down. They urged on their mounts, but they would go no further, some of them even rearing and toppling their riders rather than go under the canopy.
'Make camp here,' she told them. She dismounted, strapped on her sword and dagger, threw her saddlebags over her shoulder, and started walking deeper into the forest.
The Red Hands scrambled to catch up with her. 'What do you think you're doing?' she asked them.
'You are going to find the White Wolf,' said Sunatay, the troop commander, a middle-aged warrior who seemed to have more scar-tissue than skin. 'We will come with you.'
'Your job was to escort me here, and will be to escort Lynan and me back to Daavis,' she told her. 'You cannot come into the forest.'
'But you will be alone!' she said.
'I have to be alone,' Jenrosa said.
It was clear from the Chetts' faces that they did not understand.
'Do you know what lives in the forest?' she asked them.
'Something that wants to harm the White Wolf,' Sunatay said.
'What on earth can harm Lynan?'
The Red Hands looked at one another. It was clear that they did not know.
'Only one thing can,' she told them, 'and her name is Silona.'
The name passed among them like the lick of wind that comes before a storm. They recognised the name, and knew it was associated in some way with the White Wolf. Some of them took a step back from the forest. The fear that rose in them was atavistic, and even Jenrosa could feel it.
'She is so powerful a thousand Chetts could not help Lynan. Only magik can defeat this creature. My magik. You must stay here, rest the horses. I will return with the White Wolf as soon as I can. Wait five nights for us. If we have not returned in that time we will not be coming back at all. Do you understand?'
'Some of us should go with you,' Sunatay persisted. 'You might encounter something else in the forest besides Silona.'
And let you stop me doing what I have to do? Jenrosa thought. I have come too far for that.
'No beast lives in this forest. Stay here. You will only get in my way if you come with me.'
Sunatay looked unhappy, but nodded gruffly. 'Very well. Five nights. Then we come to find you.'
'Rest,' Jenrosa ordered them, and marched into the forest.
When she was out of sight, Sunatay beckoned to a man who looked as if he had seen as much combat as she.
'Rosof, you must take over the troop,' she told him.
'Where are you going?'
Sunatay screwed up her face. 'Where do you think?'
'You're going into the forest by yourself?'
'I will take two others. We will stay hidden from the Truespeaker. I do not want to disturb her magik.'
'Then why go at all?'
'Because it is our duty to protect the White Wolf. Maybe the Truespeaker is right, and we will be useless against Silona, but maybe she is wrong in this. Remember, our ancestors once destroyed all the vampires who lived around the Oceans of Grass. And Rosof, wait three nights, not five. If we are not all back by then, revenge us.'
Lynan had expected her to come on the first night.
He waited with a mix of anticipation and dread, constantly fighting the urge to run away, to make for naked land and clear sky. He lay on his back, staring at the dark canopy, his sword drawn. He listened for any sound that might warn him of her approach, starting every time a branch creaked. On more than one occasion he thought he heard the soft padding of footsteps, but when he sat up and looked around, there was nothing.
When the first fitful rays of dawn penetrated the canopy he felt elation, but that evaporated with the realisation he would have to endure a second night in the forest.
Or I could just leave, he told himself. I have done my duty. I came to the forest to slay Silona, but I cannot spend the rest of my life looking for her.
The argument did not work. He knew Silona would come to him eventually. She needed him even more than he desired her. Even if he ran to the furthest corner of Theare he believed she would follow him, in his dreams and in his insanity. There was no escape from her now.
If he had a choice at all any more, it was to force the issue. He stood up, looked around him. There was one part of the surrounding forest that seemed darker and even more foreboding than the rest, and he knew instinctively the heart of Silona's kingdom lay that way. He started walking. His footsteps were the only sound. [ Several hours later, when as far as he could tell the sun was at its highest, he stopped briefly. For less than a heartbeat the sound of footsteps did not. He pretended not to notice.
He resumed walking, keeping up a steady gait. At midafternoon he stopped suddenly. Again, a sound as if his footsteps had caused an echo. He knew it was not
Silona, who could not come out in daylight. Someone had followed him all the way from Daavis after all.
Ager? he wondered. No. The crookback was a wonderful rider, but his injuries meant he could not walk swiftly, and certainly not silently. Gudon, then.
Perhaps. Korigan? No. She would stay with the army.
Jenrosa?
Yes. It made sense. And yes, he realised then, it was she who had freed him from his insanity back in Daavis.
Only Jenrosa would have had that kind of power, and the fact that it had been Jenrosa who first gave him
Silona's blood gave her magik extra leverage. What had Silona said about Jenrosa? That she was the one he loved. He had denied it, and only now was beginning to understand how much of a lie that had been. He had told himself it was not true because she had chosen Kumul over him. Should he call out to her? Was she still afraid that he was mad? Or possessed, even?
Yes, time to end this particular game.
He turned swiftly on his heel, smiling broadly.
And saw a man.
He stood thirty or forty paces away, between the grey trunks of two headseeds, more silhouette than shape.
'I knew you heard my footsteps,' the man said.
There was something vaguely familiar about the voice. For that matter there was something vaguely familiar about the silhouette. Lynan's smile disappeared,