He saw the blood upon her shirt and leggings, the bruises and cuts on her face.
But more than this, he saw the crimson cloak around her slender shoulders.
‘What now for us all, Sigarni?’ he asked, as she came closer. ‘What now?’
Her eyes seemed unfocused, and she did not appear to hear him. Her face was losing its colour, the surface of the skin waxy and grey. The horse moved on, plodding into the trees. Fell ran after it, just in time to throw aside his bow and catch hold of Sigarni as she started to fall from the saddle. Pushing her foot clear of the stirrup, Fell levered himself to the stallion’s back. With one arm holding the unconscious Sigarni to him, he took up the reins in his left hand and heeled the stallion forward.
The old wizard had urged him to take her to the falls, but if he did so now he would leave a clear trail behind him, the horse’s hooves biting deeply into the damp earth.
The pursuit was probably already under way, and with little time to plan Fell urged the horse to greater speed and headed for the deeper forest. He rode for several miles, keeping to the deer trails, always climbing higher into the mountains. Glancing at the sky he saw thick clouds to the north, dark and angry, their tops flattened like an anvil. Fell breathed a prayer of thanks, for such clouds promised hail and thunder and powerful storms. Hauling on the reins he stepped down from the saddle, allowing Sigarni to fall into his arms and across his shoulder. The ground beneath his feet was rocky and firm, leaving no trace of his booted feet. He slapped the stallion firmly on the rump and the horse leapt forward in a run, heading on down the slope towards the valley below. Fell left the trail, forcing his way through deep undergrowth. The ground broke sharply to his right into a muddy slope; it was hard to keep his footing here, especially with the added burden of Sigarni. He moved on carefully, occasionally slithering and sliding, keeping close to the trees that grew on the hillside, using them as barriers to halt any out-of-control slide. He was half-way down the slope when he heard the sound of horsemen
on the road above. Dropping to his knees behind a screen of bushes, he looked back and saw the soldiers galloping by. There were more than thirty in the group.
With a grunt Fell pushed himself to his feet and struggled on. By his own reckoning he was around four miles due east from the Alwen Falls. But that four miles would become at least six by the route he would be forced to travel, along winding trails, skirting the steeper slopes and the many acres of open grassland.
He was sweating heavily by the end of the first mile, and by the second he felt his legs trembling with the effort of carrying the unconscious woman. Sigarni had made no sound throughout and Fell paused by a stream, lowering her to the ground. Her colour was not good, and her pulse was faint and erratic. Carefully he examined her, opening her torn shirt. There were bloody teeth-marks on her breast, and a range of purple bruises on her rib-cage and shoulders. But no deep wounds. She is in shock, he thought. It is vital to keep her warm; to find somewhere he could nurse her. Gently he stroked her bruised face. ‘You are safe, my love,’ he said, softly. ‘Hold on for me.’ She did not stir as Fell wrapped the crimson cloak around her, then lifted her to his shoulders. Almost two hours had passed already since the fight above the town, and there were still four miles to go. Fell took a deep breath and struggled on, trying not to think of his aching muscles, the burning in his calves and thighs.
For three more painful hours Fell carried Sigarni through the forest. In all that time she made no sound.
At last they arrived at the Alwen Falls.
There was no sign of the wizard.
In a shallow cave, a little way back from the pool, Fell built a fire. Removing his own sheepskin cloak he covered Sigarni with it and, holding her hand, talked to her as she slept. ‘Well,’ he said, squeezing her limp fingers, ‘this is a sorry mess and no mistake. We’re wolves’ heads now, my love. I wish I knew why. Why were they chasing you? Who wounded you? Ah well, I expect you’ll tell me in your own good time. Shame about the bow, though. Best I ever had. But I couldn’t carry it, hold you and guide the horse at the same time.’ Leaning forward, he stroked her brow. ‘You are the most beautiful woman, Sigarni. I never saw the like. Was that what caused your pain? Did some Outland noble desire you so badly he felt compelled to take you by force? Was it the red-bearded man whose throat you slashed to red ribbons?’ Releasing her hand, he fed wood to the fire and rose, walking to the cave-mouth. What now, he wondered? Where will we go?