Far below them Caswallon halted the column. Ahead was the forest of Atta, the dark and holy place of the druids. Beyond that, according to Taliesen, was the invisible bridge to Vallon. Caswallon called Leofas to him – and Badraig, who had returned from the west with news that the Aenir had split into several forces, the majority racing ease at speed, the others vanishing into the mountains in small groups.
The scouting party had cornered twenty Aenir warriors and destroyed them, taking one alive whom they questioned at length. He would teli them little, save that they had been pursuing a man and a giri. Badraig killed the man swiftly and led his party back to Caswallon.
“What do you think?’ asked Badraig. ‘Gaelen?’
‘It could be. The girl might be Deva. Dirak’s scouts found the mutilated body of a clan girl they thought was Larain, and Agwaine said the two girls were together.’
‘Why should the Aenir split their forces,’ Leofas asked.
‘I would bet it is Maggrig. The wily old fox is probably leading them a merry dance.’
Taliesen joined them, leaning on his oak staff, his long white hair billowing in the morning breeze. ‘Can we move on, War Lord? I am anxious to be on safe ground.’
‘Not yet,’ said Caswallon. ‘I am concerned about the second force you mentioned, Badraig. Why did they split up, do you think?’
‘To re-form elsewhere. Why else?’
‘Then where are they? We’ve searched the west.’
‘They could have returned to the south.’
‘Or come north,” said Leofas.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Caswallon, switching his gaze to the dark trees of Atta.
‘How many would you say were in this second force?’ Leofas asked.
Badraig shrugged. ‘It could be anything from two hundred to a thousand. Not more, though.’
‘Then for once we are not outnumbered,’ said Caswallon. ‘I think we’ll camp here, and tonight we’ll set fires. We know no force from the south can be on us before tomorrow past the noon.’
Badraig and Leofas spread the word and the women of the column cast around for firewood, though none approached the trees.
Within the forest Barsa waited patiently with his seven hundred and fifty archers, watching the Farlain make camp.
Unlike his half-brother Ongist, Barsa was not a reckless man. Though neither was he intuitive, as his half-brother Drada. Barsa was simply a trained killer of men who relied on his experience more than his intellect. Experience told him the Farlain did not know of his presence; he had avoided their scouts and taken only the best of his men, breaking into small parties and heading north, re-forming at the falls. He had been guessing as to the line of the clan march and was secretly pleased at the accuracy of his guess. He had no idea where they were ultimately heading, for the north was a mystery to the Aenir save that men said the sea was not far off. And when he had received the message from Ongist saying the Pallides were also racing north he had acted at once, dispatching three thousand to join his brother and taking eight hundred with him to this place.
It would please his father, and Barsa looked forward to basking in his praise. He could decimate the Farlain with his first volley. They would break and run and his men would have their pick of the clan maidens. Sadly they would then have to kill them. It was the one order that made no sense to Barsa; always the Aenir had taken captured women as house slaves and concubines – even wives. But in the mountains Asbidag’s orders had been specific.
Kill all the clansmen, women and children.
An Aenir forester crept to Barsa’s side. ‘They are making camp. Should we attack tonight?’
It was a thought, but Barsa was loath to commit his men in the open for the clans outnumbered him. ‘No. We’ll wait for morning, as they enter.’ The man nodded and moved silently back into the deeper darkness.
Beyond the line of camp-fires flickering on the open ground, Caswallon silently led a thousand warriors south and then east, circling toward the blackness of Atta forest. Once in the east the Farlain split into three forces, one led by Caswallon, the others led by Leofas and Badraig. Armed only with short swords and hunting-knives the men entered the trees, moving silently forward. It was slow progress.