Behind them snaked the column of knights, riders sitting easy in the saddle. Ahead of them a gentle crest eventually met higher land in the far northwest of Chandra. The valley east of them was quilted by fields and orchards. A couple of towns clustered around crossroads. To their west the edge of a forest limned the horizon. Charion pulled out the map Barys had given them. Drawn on it were the geographical features of their patrol area. The valley was called Arran; it marked the easternmost range. The Forest of Silona marked the southwest limit. The border with her own province marked the north limit, which is where they were heading now. To patrol the entire area would take five or six days, and then they would start again. 'We could cross the border,' Galen mused aloud.
'We told Tomar we would take on this duty,' Charion reminded him. 'He could have told us to move south and join up with Areava's Great Army.'
'He could have asked us,' Galen said. 'Nobody except Areava herself tells Galen Amptra what to do.'
'Keep your airs to yourself, Kendran,' Charion snorted. 'This is his domain. We are his guests.'
Galen shrugged self-consciously. 'Yes, I know. At least we're not twirling our fingers in some city, making polite conversation with boring minor nobles while our horses get fat on hay and grain.' He looked sideways at Charion. 'Still. A little cross-border ride wouldn't harm, would it? A day in, a day out. Might even gather some useful information about the Chett army and its whereabouts.'
'We know where it is,' Charion said crossly. 'In Daavis. And we know where it's going when it does move. Sparro.'
'Then what are we doing here?'
'Keeping out of the way,' Charion said.
'Why would Tomar care where we are? We're all on the same side, after all.'
Charion wondered if she should voice her doubts, but decided that was unfair of her. Tomar had shown them every courtesy and rendered them every assistance. But she could not forget some of the things the king had said and the context in which he had said them; then they had not seemed to mean anything significant, but she had since had time to ponder them. He was a man of confused, perhaps even divided, loyalties. Tomar gave her the impression of being a very sad man trapped in very sad times.
'And that rubbish you said he'd given you about our force not being compatible with his army,' Galen continued. 'Well, all I can say is that if Barys was commander, it would be good enough for the knights. His reputation as soldier and general—'
Galen stopped when he saw one of their outriders galloping towards them from the west. He halted the column. The outrider arrived out of breath and sweating.
'Lord Amptra, Chetts! Here!'
'Where?'
'The forest! They are on its edge. A full company at least.'
'What were they doing?' Charion asked.
'Dismounted and resting, as far as I could see.'
'Were you seen?'
In answer, the outrider pulled an arrow out of his saddlebag. 'They got this into my pommel.' He blushed. 'Missed my prick by a finger's width.'
'Then they'll ride for the border,' Galen said.
Charion looked at the map again and jabbed with her linger at a point halfway between the forest and the valley, looking up to check the detail against the real landscape. 'There. This crest flattens out. It's the only straight way between the forest and the border.'
'Northwest,' Galen confirmed. He ordered two riders behind him to ride due west to locate the Chetts, and to let him know if they were mounted and riding. They galloped off.
'Will we catch them?' Charion asked.
'If we move now,' he said brusquely and raised his clenched fist, the signal for the column to move to a trot. 'What are they doing here?'
'Scouting party?' Charion suggested.
'This far west? Only if Lynan intends to move his army around Sparro and march directly on Kendra.'
'But that would leave Sparro and Tomar's army directly behind him, and Areava's Great Army on his eastern flank. That doesn't make sense.'
'Well, if we catch any of the Chetts alive, we'll find out quickly enough.'
'We have to catch them first,' Charion pointed out. She wanted to pick up the pace, but knew if they did that they would blow the horses before meeting the enemy, and then nothing could stop them from escaping. 'So much for this being the most peaceful corner of the whole continent.'
After dismembering Silona's remains and disposing of them in the campfire, Lynan set about making a pyre for Jenrosa and the three Red Hands. He built a base from small branches and piled on it all the dry leaves and twigs he could scrounge. Then he placed Jenrosa's body in the middle, the Red Hands on either side, and placed more branches and leaves over them. When he set it alight the flames took hold straightaway. In moments the blaze was so intense he had to retreat several paces, By morning the pyre was reduced to little more than a pile of light grey ash. A breeze made its way from the outside world and blew the ashes around in an eddy that climbed up above the canopy and out into the world.
He needed to move, he knew that. He had to get back to Daavis. He was responsible for the fate of more than one companion. But his heart weighed so much the rest of him could not move. When Kumul died it had been as if Lynan's past had died as well; with Jenrosa's death he felt he had lost his future.
Not so long ago there had been four of them. Refugees, exiles, outlaws. Now he was proclaimed king by his followers, he had a brave army behind him, but only he and Ager remained and he was not sure the cost had been worth it. Why struggle for a kingdom, for any birthright, if the price was everything you cared for?
He knew the answer and did not want to hear it, but inside his mind he heard it spoken in Kumul's voice. 'Duty,' Lynan said aloud. 'I am Prince Lynan Rosetheme, son of Queen Usharna Rosetheme, son of General Elynd Chisal, and I will be king of Grenda Lear. I was born to duty. You showed me that, Kumul. And you, Jenrosa.'
Saying their names made him want to cry again, but that would shame them. He took his sword and plunged it deep in the earth where the pyre had been. One day he would return to retrieve it, and to sit for a while by the place where Jenrosa had left this life.
Rosof and the others had heard terrible things during the night, and in the morning he was left with the terrible problem of what to do about them. Sunatay had said he was not to come after her until three nights had passed, but what if she and the others needed help now? What he wanted to do was order his troop to mount and get away from this dark and evil forest, but they were Red Hands, and they had come to save the White Wolf. He could not leave, and as he thought about the problem he realised he could not stay where he was and do nothing.
He made a decision to lead half the troop into the forest, leaving the other half behind as a reserve and to watch the horses, when two things happened that deepened his quandary. The first was a dark plume of smoke which the Chetts could see above the trees as soon as the southern sky was light enough; as far as Rosof could tell, its source was many leagues deep within the forest. He did not know what it meant, but he was sure it had something to do with the sounds they had heard during the night. The second event was a sudden commotion to the east of their main camp. An outrider rushed back to tell him she had shot at a horseman but he had got away. Rosof groaned inside. The enemy had discovered their position, and they were several days ride from any kind of sanctuary. He was left to make a decision that properly should have been Sunatay's, and he silently cursed her for leaving him in this mess. The other Red Hands, as skittish now as horses in the middle of a grass fire, were looking at him expectantly. Of all the choices facing him, his original decision still looked best to him, although he could not now take half his force with him.
'We cannot leave the White Wolf behind at the mercy of his enemies,' he declared, trying hard to keep a quaver out of his voice. 'We are the Red Hands, and we will not fail. I will go into the forest to find King Lynan and the Truespeaker, and our companions. I will take twenty with me. The rest of you will wait here. Prepare a barricade around the horses. The enemy will come, but if we are brave and strong they will not defeat us, and when I return with Lynan, we will cut them down like grass wolves attacking a herd of karaks.'