Standing on the bank, blinking my rinsed eyes at the heavens, I saw the moon resolve itself sharp and clear, the fuzziness fading from its edges. This was the first time it had happened. My breathing jerked to a halt and I kept staring. Then I scanned the sky for early stars, traced the edges of clouds, the distant mountains, the farthest trees. I looked back at the moon, and it still held clear and steady. My eyesight was normal once again.
Ganelon drew back at the sound of my laughter, and he never inquired as to its cause.
Suppressing an impulse to sing, I remounted and headed back toward the trail once again. The shadows deepened as we rode, and clusters of stars bloomed among the branches overhead. I inhaled a big piece of the night, held it a moment, released it. I was myself once again and the feeling was good.
Ganelon drew up beside me and said in a low voice, “There will doubtless be sentries.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then hadn‘t we better leave the trail?”
“No. I would rather not seem furtive. It matters not to me whether we arrive with an escort. We are simply two travelers.”
“They may require the reason for our travels.”
“Then let us be mercenaries who have heard of strife in the realm and come seeking employment”
“Yes. We look the part. Let us hope they pause long enough to notice.”
“If they cannot see us that well, then we are poor targets.”
“True, but I am not fully comforted by the thought.”
I listened to the sounds of the horses‘ hoofs on the trail. The way was not straight. It twisted, curved, and wandered for a time, then took an upward turn. As we mounted the rise it followed, the trees thinned even more.
We came to the top of a hill then, and into a fairly open area. Advancing, we achieved a sudden view that covered several miles. We drew rein at an abrupt drop that curved its way into a gradual slope after ten or fifteen precipitous meters, sweeping downward to a large plain perhaps a mile distant, then continuing on through a hilly, sporadically wooded area. The plain was dotted with campfires and there were a few tents toward the center of things. A large number of horses grazed near by, and I guessed there were several hundred men sitting beside the fires or moving about the compound. Ganelon sighed.
“At least they seem to be normal men,” he said.
“Yes.”
“. . . And if they are normal military men, we are probably being watched right now. This is too good a vantage to leave unposted.”
“Yes.”
There came a noise from behind us. We began to turn, just as a near by voice said, “Don‘t move!” I continued to turn my head, and I saw four men. Two of them held crossbows trained on us and the other two had blades in their hands. One of these advanced two paces.
“Dismount!” he ordered. “On this side! Slowly!” We climbed down from our mounts and faced him, keeping our hands away from our weapons. “Who are you? Where are you from?” he asked.
“We are mercenaries,” I replied, “from Lorraine. We heard there was fighting here, and we are seeking employment. We were headed for that camp below. It is yours, I hope?”
“. . . And if I said no, that we are a patrol for a force about to invade that camp?”
I shrugged. “In that case, is your side interested in hiring a couple of men?”
He spat. “The Protector has no need for your sort,” he said. Then, “From what direction do you ride?”
“East,” I said.
“Did you meet with any difficulty recently?”
“No,” I said. “Should we have?”
“Hard to say,” he decided. “Remove your weapons. I‘m going to send you down to the camp. They will want to question you about anything you may have seen in the east—anything unusual.”
“We‘ve seen nothing unusual,” I said.
“Whatever, they will probably feed you. Though I doubt you will be hired. You have come a bit late for the fighting. Remove your weapons now.”