The Ska were obviously making for the old fortress, where they could most readily withstand the superior numbers of the attackers. They rode into the forest and a few moments later emerged; Sir Balor and his men followed.
The Ska began to climb the knoll; Aillas sought through the group: where was Tatzel? Where the youth in dark green with the black cap?
She was nowhere to be seen.
Aillas laughed. He pulled up his horse, and watched as Sir Balor and his troop rode pell-mell through the forest and out, now with only a hundred yards between the two parties.
Aillas kept his eyes on the forest. As soon as the Ulfish troops had passed, a lone rider emerged and rode away at full speed toward Castle Sank, from which she no doubt intended to bring succor to those at bay in the old fortress.
Her course would take her somewhat to the north of Aillas. He examined the terrain, then swung around his horse and rode to where he might hope to intercept her most easily.
Tatzel drew near, crouched low over the horse's surging neck, with locks of black hair blowing back on the wind. She turned her head and her face became shocked to discover Aillas riding hard down upon her, and she could not restrain a cry of consternation. Snatching at the reins, she turned her horse to the north, away from Castle Sank, in a direction Aillas was not at all anxious to explore. Rashly or wisely, Aillas hesitated not an instant; never before had he flushed quarry so precious into the open, and for better or worse he could not abandon it now, no matter where it took him; and so began a wild chase across the North Ulfish moors.
Tatzel rode a young black mare, sleek, long of leg but with no great depth of chest and perhaps less stamina. Aillas' roan was larger and heavier, and bred for durability; Aillas doubted not that sooner or later he could overtake Tatzel, especially in hard going, and as he pursued, he sought to drive her toward the mountains, ever higher: away from both Castle Sank and the lower moors where she might discover help in the form of a Ska settlement or another party of travellers.
Tatzel seemed intent only upon using the speed of her mare to its best advantage, but the moors afforded uncertain and sometimes dangerous footing, and neither horse could gain on the other. Aillas carried no bow, and so could not put an arrow into the mare's withers to bring it to a halt.
A mile went by, and another; and the horses flagged. With the advantage in endurance, Aillas began to gain, yard by yard, and soon Tatzel must be taken. In a desperation she had never in her lifetime known before, she swung sharply up into a rocky gulch which, between a pair of spurs, led up to the higher moors, hoping, perhaps, to dodge into a convenient covert and lose Aillas as he blundered past.
To no avail. No such covert offered itself, and in any case Aillas came only twenty yards behind, and was not likely to be so deceived. The gulch became choked with sedge and alder thicket; Tatzel turned up the side of the canyon, and, dismounting, pulled her horse up over ledges of rotten black rock and through small furze bushes, and at last clambered up to the stony top-surface of the spur. Aillas followed, but halted when Tatzel began to roll stones down upon him, and so was obliged to climb to the top by a different route, which allowed Tatzel a few yards vantage.
Aillas reached the face of the spur. Gullies dropped away to either side. Behind him it seemed that he could see forever under the windy Atlantic sky: across heather-gray moors, dark declivities, the black smears of far forests. Tatzel staggered up toward the high ridge, pulling her distressed mare behind her. Aillas followed and once more began to close the distance between.
Tatzel mounting her horse, rode at best speed, up to the plateau, with the final thrust of the great Teach tac Teach now looming close at hand, and, most notably, Noc, the first of the Cloud-cutters.
Aillas followed, but found to his great discouragement that his horse had somehow wrenched its leg and had gone lame. Aillas cursed, pulled the bridle from the horse's head, threw off the saddle and let it go free. This was serious misfortune, and suddenly his folly in setting off in pursuit of Tatzel, leaving no word nor message, was brought home to him.
Still, all was not lost, by any means. He shouldered his wallet and set out after Tatzel afoot. So winded was her mare and so difficult the footing among the loose stones that once more he found himself rapidly gaining upon her. Another two minutes should bring her to bay.
Tatzel recognized as much. She cast a despairing glance around the landscape, but no help offered itself; Aillas, observing her face as she looked back at him, could not help but feel a qualm of pity.
He hardened his heart. "Tatzel, dear little Tatzel with your haughty head so high! You have known much of despair and fear and sorrow in others; why should you not feel some of your own?"
Tatzel came to a decision. If she rode onward Aillas would have her at once. On her left hand opened a valley with steep stony walls. Tatzel paused an instant, took a deep breath, then, jumping from her horse, pulled it over the edge of the slope. Sliding, squatting on its haunches, eyes glaring white, nickering in terror, the mare floundered down the slope. Her footing gave way; she fell and began to roll with a grotesque thrashing of legs and torso and contorted neck. The slope increased in pitch; far down the horse struck full into a boulder and lay still.
Tatzel, sliding and clawing, holding for dear life to shrubs and bushes, encountered a patch of loose scree. It slid treacherously from under her feet, to create a landslide which carried her to the bottom, and there she lay dazed. After a minute she tried to move but her left leg could not support her and she sank back in pain, staring at the broken limb.
Aillas watched the disastrous descent, then, with haste no longer of overriding concern, chose a more careful route to the bottom.
He found Tatzel slumped against a rock, face white with pain. He looked to her horse, which had broken its back and lay wheezing and blowing bloody foam. Aillas stabbed it quickly with his sword and the horse became still.
Aillas returned to Tatzel and dropped to his knee beside her. "Are you hurt?"
"My leg is broken."
Aillas carried her to a bed of river sand, and as gently as possible tried to straighten the leg. It seemed cleanly broken, without splintering of the bone, so he thought, and needed principally the support of splints.
Aillas rose to his feet and surveyed the valley. In olden times the river meadows had supported a series of farmsteads, which had disappeared leaving only the crumble of stone fences and a few decaying ruins. He saw no living creature and neither saw nor smelled smoke. Still, beside the river ran the vestige of a trail; the valley could not be altogether unknown to traffic, which might prove to his disadvantage.
Aillas went to the river's edge and cut two dozen willow withes. Returning to Tatzel he peeled off bark and gave it to her. "Chew it; it will help relieve the pain."
From the dead horse he brought Tatzel's cloak, the saddle blanket, and her small wallet of black leather clasped with gold, together with straps and buckles from the bridle and saddle.
Aillas gave her more willow bark to chew, then with his knife slit the leg of her trousers up past her slender knee. He folded aside the cloth to bare the leg.
"I am no bone-setter," said Aillas. "I can only do for you what I have seen done for others. I will try not to cause you pain."
Tatzel had nothing to say, since, in the first place, she found the circumstances confusing. Aillas' demeanor seemed neither ferocious nor even ominous; if he were intent upon a sexual attack would he pause to tie her leg in a splint, which could but interfere with his activity?