The wind blew strongly, as it always does near the coastline; currents of air sweeping up from the underside of the isle eddied and swirled among the jagged cliffs. Strong gusts caused the three to lose their footing, trees creaked and shuddered, and more than once they heard the ringing, shattering crack of a falling tree limb. Alfred grew increasingly nervous, scanning the skies for elven ships and the woods for elven warriors, although Hugh amusedly assured him that not even the elves bothered with this worthless part of Pitrin’s Exile.
It was a wild and desolate place. Cliffs of coralite jutted into the air. The tall hargast trees crowded close to the road, cutting off the sunlight with their long, thin leathery brown filaments. This foliage remained on the tree during the winter and only fell off in the spring, prior to growing the new filaments, which would suck moisture out of the air. It was nearly noon when Hugh, who had been paying unusual attention to the trunk of every hargast tree growing close to the roadside, suddenly called a halt.
“Hey!” he shouted to Alfred and the prince, who were trudging wearily ahead of him. “This way.”
Bane turned to stare at him questioningly. Alfred turned-at least part of Alfred turned. His upper half swung around on Hugh’s orders, but his lower half continued acting on previously given instruction. By the time all of Alfred managed to obey, he was lying in the dust of the road.
Hugh waited patiently for the chamberlain to pick himself up.
“We leave the road here.” The assassin gestured toward the forest.
“In there?” Alfred peered with dismay into the tangle of underbrush and densely packed hargast trees, standing unmov-ing, branches clinking together with an ominous musical sound in the swirling winds.
“I’ll take care of you, Alfred,” said Bane, taking hold of the chamberlain’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “There now, you’re not scared anymore, are you? I’m not scared, not at all!”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” said Alfred gravely. “I feel much better now. However, if I might venture to ask, Sir Hugh, what necessitates our going this way?”
“My airship is hidden in here.”
Bane gaped. “An elven airship?”
“This way.” Hugh gestured. “And be quick about it.” He cast a glance up and down the empty road. “Before someone comes along.”
“Oh, Alfred! Hurry, hurry!” The prince pulled at the chamberlain’s hand.
“Yes, Your Highness,” answered Alfred unhappily. He set his foot into the mass of last spring’s rotting filaments on the roadside. There was a rustle, the underbrush leapt and quivered, and Alfred did the same. “What . . . what was that?” he gasped, pointing a trembling finger.
“Go!” grunted Hugh, and shoved Alfred ahead.
The chamberlain slid and stumbled. More out of terror at falling headlong into the unknown than out of agility, he managed to stay on his feet in the thick undergrowth. The prince plunged in after him, keeping the poor chamberlain in a constant state of panic by descrying snakes beneath every rock and log. Hugh watched them until the thick foliage had blocked them from his sight-and him from theirs. Reaching down, he picked up a rock and removed from beneath it a sliver of wood, which he thrust back into the notch that had been made in the trunk of a tree.
Entering the forest, he had no trouble finding the two again; a wild boar blundering through the thickets could not have made a greater clamor.
Moving with his accustomed soft-footed tread, Hugh was standing right beside them before either of the two was aware of him. Purposefully he cleared his throat, figuring that if he didn’t give some indication of his presence, the chamberlain might drop dead from fright. As it was, Alfred nearly leapt from his skin at the startling sound, and almost wept with relief when he saw it was Hugh.
“Where . . . which way, sir?”
“Keep going straight ahead. You’ll strike a cleared path about twenty feet further.”
“T-twenty feet!” Alfred stammered. He gestured at the thick brush in which he was entangled. “It will take us an hour to get that far, at least!”