“Do as the margalus orders,” Herilak said, pointing his spear. “Go.”
The mastodons trumpeted their complaints at being disturbed, but cruel blows in the delicate corners of their mouths moved them out. The fires before the tents were stirred to life and the travois were quickly lashed into position. Kerrick left Armun to load what was needed and hurried out of the encampment, to the head of the forming column where Herilak was waiting.
Herilak pointed north.
“The land rises there, you will remember. The hills are wooded and rough, with the stone of the mountains pushing through the ground in some places. We must get there before they catch up with us. It is there that we will find a position that can be defended.”
The moon rose before they were ready and dawn was that much closer. They went out in single file, the mastodons squealing as they were goaded into a shambling run, the hunters trotting alongside. They had hunted this land for a long time now and knew every crease and fold. The sammads took the easiest and fastest track north.
When dawn spread the first gray light over the landscape the column was stretched out, no longer running, but still moving. The mastodons were too weary now to complain and slogged steadily on, putting one great foot ahead of the other. The hunters walked as well, looking behind them although there was nothing there to be seen. Yet. The march continued.
A long, wearying time passed before Herilak called a halt.
“Drink and rest,” he ordered, looking back the way that they had come, waiting for the straggling column to close up. He waved Peremandu to him. “You know how far away from our encampment the murgu were. Will they have reached it by now?”
Peremandu looked to the south and his eyes narrowed with thought. He nodded reluctantly. “It took me a longer time, but they are much faster. They will be there by now.”
“And will soon be after us,” Herilak said grimly. He turned and looked to the east, then pointed to the foothills. “There. We must find a place to make our stand there. Move out.”
The land soon began to rise and the tired mastodons slowed and had to be urged on. The path they were following took them up a valley, with a stream winding down the bottom of it. One of the hunters who had been scouting ahead came trotting back to Herilak.
“The valley gets steeper and will soon be hard to climb out of.”
They turned up the slope then, and when they had breasted it Herilak pointed to the even steeper, rock-strewn hill above. It rose steadily to forested heights beyond.
“That is what we want. If we lie in wait up there they cannot attack us from behind. They must come up this slope. They will be in the open while we will be hidden among the trees. We will make our stand there.”
Kerrick heard this with a feeling of relief as he came stumbling up. His leg throbbed with pain after the tiring walk and each step was agony. But there was no time to think about himself now. “That is a good plan,” he said. “The beasts are tired and cannot go much further. They should be taken deeper into the woods, to eat and to rest. The women as well. We must all get some rest because we will go on after dark again. If the numbers of the murgu are as great as Peremandu has told us, then we cannot possibly kill them all. It will be enough to stop them. What do you say to this, Herilak?”
“I say that this thought is hard as stone. But I think that it is also true. We will wait for the attack at the forest edge. The mastodons will go deeper among the trees. Har-Havola, I want strong runners from your sammad to find a way through the forest and beyond while it is still light. We will fight. After dark we will go on.”
The stragglers were still working their way up the slope when a hunter shouted a warning and pointed to the west, at the growing cloud rising up beyond the first of the foothills. The sight of it hurried the last of them on their way.