The observation prompted her to look at her new companions more closely. Their clothes were travel-stained but, like Yehna’s boots, they were well made and of a high quality. So, too, was the equipment on the horses that they were leading. And the horses them-selves were finer than any she had ever seen before.
She took hold of Engir’s arm as they trudged silently along. ‘Who are you?’ she asked, yet again. ‘Where do you come from? What are you doing here? Why…’
‘We’re Nilsson’s countrymen,’ Engir replied, before she could continue. ‘At least Levrik and I have that dubious pleasure. Yehna and Aaren come from a neighbouring country. But both are a long way from here.’
‘What have you come here for?’ Marna persisted.
‘To find Nilsson, and his men. To see if they can be brought to account for something they did,’ Engir replied straightforwardly.
Marna remembered Engir’s reference to messages for the king. ‘You’re from the king, aren’t you?’ she burst out, clapping her hands together. ‘Are you…’ She snapped her fingers excitedly as she struggled for the word. ‘… Mercenaries? Paid by the king to free us all?’ As suddenly as her hopes had risen, however, they fell. ‘But what can four of you do?’
Even Levrik smiled at the tone of her voice. Engir raised his hand a little to indicate that she should not make so much noise. ‘We’re here with your king’s authority,’ he said. ‘But we’re not mercenaries. We’re professional soldiers owing our first allegiance to the peoples of our homelands. And you’re quite correct, there’s very little four of us can do against Nilsson’s band as it is now.’ His expression became anxious. ‘Especially with this Rannick appearing on the scene.’ He fell silent, and Marna felt loath to press him further.
Then, without any spoken command, the horses were left in a small clearing, and the walkers continued, moving always higher up the tree-lined sides of the valley. Eventually they stopped at another carefully concealed camp. From this one, however, a gap between the trees enabled them to see along the valley without making themselves visible. Marna stared at a small, isolated cottage in the distance until she eventually recognized it as her home. Looking at it from this unusual vantage made her feel very strange.
‘When Yehna gets back, I’d like you to tell us about Rannick again.’ Engir’s voice broke into her reverie. ‘And the boy, Farnor. The one who disappeared.’
Marna turned to him. ‘He’s not a boy,’ she said flatly. ‘He’s as near a man as makes no difference. And he’s my friend.’ Her face twisted in distress but she did not weep as she added, ‘And he might well be dead by now.’
Engir nodded sympathetically. ‘I meant no offence,’ he said, quietly. ‘And I’m afraid there are many people dead in the wake of Nilsson and his men. But please tell us your story again. I know it’ll be painful, but it’s very important.’
Marna made no answer, but turned to look along the valley towards her home again. Engir did not press his request.
It was some time before Yehna returned, and though she thanked Marna for the loan of her boots, she took them off and put on her own with conspicuous relief, at the same time shooting a sour glance at the two men, both of whom were grinning.
Although she had been treated courteously, even kindly, Marna could not help but feel like a gawky outsider as she watched the subtle interplay between the four companions. They seemed always to know what each needed of the other, even though they rarely spoke. And there were equally subtle things about the way they moved; a studied effortlessness. Yehna, for example, was barely flushed when she returned, even though she must have walked a considerable distance.
Marna had little time to ponder these observations however, as shortly after Yehna’s return, Engir looked at her significantly.
She told her tale again.
This time however, she found herself being fre-quently interrupted and closely questioned about various details which she had passed over as being inconsequentiaclass="underline" what Farnor had said about his mysterious contact with the creature; what Gryss had said about the fiery column that Rannick had conjured up, and what she had felt when she saw and touched the flame in the tower room. And too, they probed into the few words that Rannick had uttered about his future plans. Only their politeness prevented her from losing her temper at this meticulous attention.
However, as her tale unfolded, she noticed as she had at its first telling that a tension began to pervade the group. Aaren spoke softly and rapidly in her own language. Engir frowned and nodded towards Marna. ‘Their language, Aaren,’ he said, with some reproach. ‘All the time now, unless we run into difficulties.’
Aaren cast an irritable look at no one in particular, then spoke again. ‘It’s so,’ she said, still softly, as if afraid of eavesdroppers. ‘I’ve smelt it for days. Ever since we began to hear about this Lord Rannick. Ever since we learned that that broken troop we were closing with had suddenly miraculously recovered and begun raiding the countryside.’ She levelled a finger at Engir.
‘And so have you, if you’d only own up to it.’
Engir turned away from her and slapped his thighs agitatedly, as if both anxious and reluctant to deny this accusation. ‘I…’ he began, but his voice tailed off almost immediately.
‘Riders.’ Levrik’s whisper silenced any further de-bate. He was pointing up the valley. The others turned to follow his gaze. It took Marna some time to see the tiny, distant dots, but when she did, she stood up and craned forward to get a better view. Yehna gently pulled her down again.
‘They can’t possibly see me from here, through all these trees,’ Marna protested.
Yehna merely placed a finger to her lips. ‘Be still, be silent,’ she said softly, but with irresistible command.
There was a long silence, broken only by bird song and the sound of the trees moving in the breeze. Marna found herself almost holding her breath. Then she drew it in sharply. The riders had stopped by her cottage.
‘What’s the matter?’ Engir asked, without turning round.
Marna told him.
The riders began to spread out. ‘They’ll find her tracks in minutes,’ Aaren said.
Engir nodded. ‘Between us, we saw all three of them die,’ he said. Marna looked at him, puzzled by the remark. But the others seemed to understand. ‘And He was destroyed too.’ He struck his chest. ‘And we knew they’d gone.’ He laid a heavy emphasis on the word, knew.
‘But they’re back,’ Aaren said urgently. Or one of them, at least.’
Engir’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. ‘It couldn’t be,’ he said.
Aaren took his arm and shook him. ‘Damn you, I know that,’ she hissed. ‘But it is. What’s got into you? You’re not going to tell me you haven’t felt it in everything we’ve seen these past days. And now there’s this girl’s tale. Face it or we’re all finished.’
Engir turned on her. ‘They’re all dead,’ he said an-grily and unequivocally.
The two of them glared at one another. Marna watched this bizarre turn of events in both bewilder-ment and trepidation.
‘They’re dead. But it’s here.’ Levrik, still watching the now scattering riders, ended the confrontation with this softly spoken, enigmatic comment. Engir looked at him sharply, but did not speak. ‘It was so focused in those three and Him that you’ve forgotten what it is,’ Levrik went on. ‘It’s everywhere. All around us, all the time. Available for those who know how to use it, for good or ill. Unfortunately, someone here – this Rannick – has learned how to use it and is using it for consider-able ill.’ He turned to Engir. ‘And, equally unfortunately, it leaves us with something of a problem.’