‘They’re closing in,’ Asayaga announced. ‘It will be tight.’
Asayaga shouted for his sergeant to move and the last of the men raced along the narrow, icy trail, Dennis watching nervously, expecting to see more than one slip and plummet to his doom.
Asayaga pushed the last of his men on to the bridge then turned to Dennis.
‘After you, Hartraft.’
‘You first,’ Dennis growled.
‘Afraid?’ Asayaga asked with a grin and then his features changed in an instant, shield going up.
An arrow slammed into it and Dennis crouched down behind the barrier as two more arrows winged in.
‘Now!’ Asayaga cried and he jumped on to the bridge and started to run, urging the men ahead of him to move.
Dennis followed, making the first thirty feet without slowing.
Looking back over his shoulder he saw five black clad archers coming through the cleft by the boulder, and spreading out along the trail. Behind them were heavy infantry, shields raised.
The archers were already drawing their next flight of arrows and Dennis continued to run, oblivious to the swaying of the bridge.
An arrow painfully creased the back of his leg. The man in front of Asayaga shrieked, clutched at his side and pitched over. His motion caused the bridge to sway violently and for a second Dennis thought that one of the ropes had been severed and the structure was collapsing. The Tsurani soldier fell and Dennis watched in horror as the man tumbled head over heels, shrieking in pain and terror, his cries growing fainter until finally they were silenced, cut off by a sickening thud as the soldier’s body burst on the sharp rocks five hundred feet below.
Dennis froze, clutching the ropes, feeling as if his legs were about to give way.
‘Come on!’
He looked up. It was Asayaga.
Another arrow snapped past and he took one step, then another and was finally running again. Men on the far side of the gorge were shouting, cheering them on, the two captains running, arrows whispering to either side, the only thing saving them the gusty winds of the canyon which threw the arrows off their course.
He plunged the last dozen feet up the slippery path and gladly took the hand of Gregory who pulled him up the last few feet.
Turning, he looked back across the canyon. Black-clad troops swarmed on the other side but none were foolish enough to dare to venture on to the bridge in spite of the urging of their commanders to press the attack.
For several minutes the two sides traded insults and gestures, Dennis watching as the Tsurani made strange motions with their hands and fingers and shouted what were obviously the foulest of insults.
Finally, Gregory pulled out his hatchet and started to cut at the ropes. In another minute the bridge collapsed.
Asayaga came up to Dennis’s side.
‘Do you know where we are?’
‘No.’
‘Now what? If you don’t know, why did you let him cut the bridge?’
‘Do you honestly think we can go back that way?’ Dennis asked wearily.
Asayaga looked across the gorge and finally shook his head.
Their men were already moving out, following the trail, having grown tired of taunting their tormentors. On this side of the chasm, the trail sloped downward and was well worn, a pleasure after the gut-straining climb. Turning a corner the chasm on their right disappeared as the trail weaved through a field of boulders and then dropped down into a broad open path. Dennis and Asayaga stopped in wonder.
Before them was a broad open valley, its upper slopes cloaked in heavy fir trees, a rich and fertile land which seemed to stretch onward for miles. Above the treeline high jagged peaks rose like guardians, hemming the valley in on all sides. Dennis sensed this valley had not been touched by war and that for the moment it meant safety and rest.
He looked over at Asayaga who stood as he did, in silent awe. Then their eyes met and both wondered what the other was thinking.
Bovai stood in silence, watching as the last of his foes disappeared.
He had heard rumours of this place but had never seen it. He turned to his tracker. ‘How do we catch up to them?’ he snapped.
‘We can’t.’
‘What do you mean we can’t?’
‘This gorge cuts through the mountains for miles in either direction. Even if we go down into it, you can see it is vertical on the other side. They’ll leave a watcher, one man alone could stop all of us.’
‘So we ride around it.’
‘That’s just it, sire. It’s miles or more around till we find another way, if we can find it. Another storm on the wind and even now the passes might be closed.’
‘We find it!’
The tracker sighed inwardly, but let no expression betray his feelings. He looked at his master and nodded. ‘First back to the bridge, my lord. That is the way.’
Bovai looked at the fallen span, as if willing it back into place. He knew that they were in alien lands. He stared at the mountains before him, as if committing them to memory forever. To the east, arching off along the northern side of the valley he saw below, he knew the Teeth of the World rose up, impassable for the most part. On the other side would be the great Edder Forest, home to the barbaric glamedhel. The moredhel of the Northlands were no less bold than his own clan, and they gave those woods wide berth. Bovai cast his eyes to the southern peaks that ringed the other side of the valley and realized that even if another pass existed from the Kingdom, the hills around it would be alive with stockades and castles garrisoned for the winter by men from Yabon and Tyr-Sog.
Back to the bridge, and along the Broad River, around the Edder Forest, and seek a pass in the mountains through the winter snow. Bovai knew it might take months to find another way into this valley.
One of the trackers said, ‘My chieftain?’
Quietly, Bovai replied, ‘Someone got into that valley, years ago, so that they could be on the other side of this gorge, and take the rope thrown from this side. That means there must be another way.’
The tracker nodded.
‘Back to the bridge, and we start looking for that way.’
Bovai looked at his troops. He knew questions would be asked around the fires this night. Victory and vengeance had to be won, no matter how long it took, otherwise he knew with a grim certainty he would be dead at the hands of his master. Murad would brook no insult to his clan, and when he learned it was Tinuva who ran with the humans …
Bovai nodded once, and turned, leading his men back through the narrow gap in the rocks. Best not to think of Murad discovering Tinuva’s part in this until the moment when he could present the Paramount Chieftain with both Hartraft’s and Tinuva’s heads.
Past freezing and injured goblins he strode, his mind lost in dreams of bloody vengeance, and none who saw his expression doubted for a moment that the chase was not over, but was merely postponed.
THE VALLEY WAS RICH AND FERTILE.
The high mountain