“Dame Math – she will not come – “ He glanced at the stair and then at me, shaking his head. “Then she must stay! We have no time. Already Dagale is at arms on the river bank. They -they are like a river in flood themselves! And they have weapons that can slay at a greater distance than any bolt or arrow can fly. Come – “
He pulled me over the doorsill of the great hall and into the open. There was a horse there, a second by the gate. He half-threw me into the saddle. “Ride!”
“And you?”
“To the river, where else? We shall fall back when we get the shield signal that our people are in the upper pass. Even as we planned.”
He slapped my mount upon the flank so that the nervous beast made a great bound forward and I gave all my attention to bringing it once more under control.
I could hear far-off shouting, together with other sounds that crackled, unlike any weapon I could imagine. By the time I had my horse again under control, I could see that Toross was riding in the opposite direction toward the river. I was tempted to head after him, only there I would have been far more of a hindrance than a help. To encourage those who fled, to keep them going, was my part of the battle. Once in the rougher ground of the heights, we would split apart into smaller bands, each under the guide of some herder or forester and so, hopefully, win our way westward to whatever manner of safety would be found in High Hallack now.
But before I came to the point where the trail I followed left the dale bottom a stab of memory caught me. The crystal gryphon-I had left it snared on the bush beside the well! And I had to have it. I swung my mount’s head around, sending Yarn across a field of ripe grain, not caring now that he trampled the crop. There was the darker ring of trees marking the well-site. I could pick up the gryphon, angle in a different direction, and lose very little time.
Taking heed of nothing but the trees around the well and what I had to find there, I rode for it and slid from the saddle almost before the horse came to a full halt. But I had enough good sense to throw my reins over a bush.
I pushed through the screen of growth, setting jogging and waving many of those tokens netted there. The gryphon – yes! A moment later it was in my hand, safe again. How could I ever have been so foolish as to let it go from me? I could not slip the chain over my mail coif and hood, but I loosened the fastening at my throat long enough to thrust my treasure well within.
Still tugging at the lacings to make them fast, I started for my horse. There was a loud nicker, but I was too full of relief at finding the gryphon to pay the heed I should have to that. So I walked straight into danger as heedlessly as the dim witted.
They must have seen me ride up and set their trap in a short time, favored by the fact that I was so intent upon the bauble that had brought me here. As I reached for the reins of my horse, they rose about me with a skill suggesting this was not the first time they had played such a game. Out of nowhere spun a loop that fell neatly over my shoulders and was jerked expertly tight, pinning my arms fast. I was captive, through my own folly, to those of Alizon.
Kerovan:
So my father was dead, and I had been left for dead. Who now ruled in Ulmskeep? Jago – my mind fastened on the only friend I might now find within those walls ahead. During the months I had spent here as my father’s deputy, I had acceptance but no following to which I might look now for backing. But I must somehow learn what had happened.
I drew into a screen of brush at the fence corner. The night wind was chill, and I shivered, being unable to stop that trembling of my body any effort produced. The keep would be closed at this hour except for –
Now I could think more clearly. Perhaps the shock of seeing the tattered banner had cleared my head. There was the Escape Way –
I do not know what brought our forefathers up from the south. They left no records, only a curious silence concerning the reason for their migration. But the fortifications they built here, their way of life, hinted that they had lived in a state of peril. For the petty warrings they engaged in here after their coming could never have been so severe as to necessitate the precautions they used.
They did not have to fight against the Old Ones for the dales. Why then the keeps – one strong one built in each dale – with those secret exit points known only to each lord and his direct heir? As if each need look forward to some time of special danger when such a bolt-hole would be in need.
Therefore, Ulmskeep had an entrance open to me, my father having shown it to me secretly late one night I had a way into the heart of what might now be enemy territory and, if I were to learn anything, that I must take. There was this also – I licked my lips tasting blood, a sorry drink for me – there was this: perhaps the last place they would search for me would be within that grim building with its tattered, drooping banner.
I took my bearings from the keep and began to move with more surety now that I had a goal in mind, though I did not relinquish any of my care not to be seen. It was some distance I must go, working my way carefully from wall to wall, from one bit of cover to the next. There were lights in the keep windows and in those of the village. One by one those winked out as I kept on at a snail’s pace, for I had schooled myself to patience, knowing that haste might betray me.
A barking dog at a farmhouse, well up-slope, kept me frozen with a pounding heart until a man shouted angrily and the brute was still. So it took me some time to reach the place I hunted.
Ulmsdale was freer of those relics of the Old Ones than most of the northern dales. In fact it was only here, in the shadow of the Giant’s Fist, that there were signs any had found their way into this valley before the coming of my own race. And the monument to the past was not an impressive one – merely a platform leveled among the stones of these heights, for what purpose no man might say.
The only remarkable thing about this smoothed stretch of stone was that deep-carven in it was that creature from which the first lord of Ulmsdale had taken his symbol – a gryphon. Even in this uncertain light the lines of the creature’s body were clear enough to give me the bearings I needed.
So guided, I scrambled up the slope a little farther, my bruised, stiff body protesting every action, until I found that place in the wall of the valley where care had been taken generations ago to set stones about a cunningly concealed break.
I edged past those into a dark pocket. Until that moment I had not realized the difficulties of this path without a light. Drawing my sword, I used it to sound out walls and footing, trying to remember as clearly as I could what lay before me now.
All too soon the sword met empty space, and I had found my destination. I sheathed my blade and crouched to feel about with my bare hands. Yes, this was the lip of the vent down which I must go. I considered the descent. In the first place the boots fashioned to hide my feet were built only for ordinary service. I distrusted them when I had to use toe holds in the dark. In fact I was not even sure my hoofed feet would serve there, but at least they would be better free. So I wrested off my boots and fastened them to my belt.
The substance of my hoofs was not affected by the chill of the stone, seeming not to have the sensitivity of flesh, and somehow with my feet free I felt secure enough to swing over and test beneath me for footholds. I need not have worried; my hoofs settled well into each and, heartened, I began the descent. I could not recall how deep I must go. In fact when my father had brought me hither we had not climbed this; he had only shown it to me from below.