‘Check again.’
The nervous man did so, and returned with the same story.
‘Are you telling me there was someone here who did not leave?’
‘No, my lord. She left all right. She just didn’t leave a sign. Must have picked her way with care over firm ground. It’ll take me time to find anything.’
‘How long?’
‘Could be most of a day.’
‘You need more men?’
‘No, my lord. They’d only churn up the ground and make it even more difficult.’
‘You find where she went. Your life depends on it.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Winter Kay walked away from the man. For a while he became lost among the old trees, but at last he found his horse and rode back to the camp. The body of the Redeemer had been taken away, and two new guards awaited him. Both looked nervous.
All day the army waited. By dusk the tracker had still not returned and Winter Kay rode out with four men, and another tracker, to find him.
The second tracker walked around the hill top, kneeling to study the ground. After an hour, with darkness approaching, he returned to Winter Kay.
‘I found his trail, my lord. He ran off towards the east.’
‘What other tracks did you find?’
‘None, my lord. There’s a woman’s footprints in the circle of stone, but none leading to them or away from them.’
Sick at heart Winter Kay once more returned to camp. For the first time in many years he did not know what to do. Panic tugged at his mind. That night he sat in his tent, trembling and frightened, refusing to meet with his officers.
The Orb was gone. Soon it would be in the hands of his enemies. They would wield its power against him.
In his panic his first thought was to order the armies to withdraw from the north, to move away from danger. But what good would that do? Gaise Macon would gather men, and, with the power of the Orb, come south against him. No, his only hope was to win this war swiftly, before his enemies learned how to manipulate the magic. He felt calmer now. Kranos would not allow himself to be used by such wretches. The Redeemers were the true followers. Kranos loved them and would protect them.
‘He will protect me] said Winter Kay aloud. Closing his eyes he prayed, ‘Lord, show me the way. Help me in my hour of need.’
All was silence.
Winter Kay sat alone.
Somewhere in the night he fell asleep, and in that sleep he saw again his forgotten ride to the Wishing Tree woods, and the long walk to the standing stones. A small woman in a pale blue and green shawl was waiting there, her hair silver white in the moonlight.
‘Give it to me,’ she said.
He had handed her the velvet sack. She had shuddered as she took it. Winter Kay watched her walk back to the standing stones. A bright light blazed and she was gone.
He awoke with a cry and scrambled to his feet. Scrabbling in a pack by the tent wall he produced papers, a quill pen and a cork-stoppered jar of ink. Then he wrote messages to his generals and called for riders.
There was no time now for an encircling action. That could take some weeks. He would gather all his troops together and smash through to Eldacre in one ferocious battle. The enemy would be slaughtered, and Winter Kay would once more possess the skull.
With the army split there was no way for Gaise Macon to accurately gauge the losses suffered by the Eldacre forces during the last five days, but it was fair to assume they were heavy. Of the force Gaise led in the west more than a third had died, and half of the remainder carried some wounds. They were also close to exhaustion.
The enemy had taken more fearsome losses. Even so they still outnumbered his men here by more than three to one. Even with his daring – and occasionally reckless – attacks Gaise knew that such attrition would soon render his force useless.
Earlier they had routed a section of heavy cavalry, only to be driven back by a charge from the Knights of the Sacrifice. Gaise had wheeled his men and cut away to the left. His musketeers had then sent volley after volley into the attackers, forcing them to withdraw. Any other force would have fled the field. Not the knights. They swung their heavy chargers and pulled back in good order. Gaise estimated the enemy had lost around six hundred men in that one encounter, but he had lost two hundred and seventy. Such odds still favoured the Varlish.