"Caddoran" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Roger)

Chapter 12

The column of smoke rose like an unnatural sapling from the green shadow-streaked canopy. Its lower reaches were dark and ominous while higher up it became a pallid grey at the touch of the early evening sun before bending and twisting erratically and finally dispersing into a soft haze as though striking an unseen ceiling.

‘What is it?’ Hyrald asked.

‘A camp fire,’ Endryk replied, not without a hint of surprise that such a question should even be asked.

‘Someone from the village?’ There was an element of clinging to hope in Hyrald’s voice. It was immediately dashed.

‘No, nor from any of the villages in this region. No one needs to come out here. No one does. Grazing, hunting, farming, they’re all better to the south. Not many even come as far as my cottage. Whoever it is, isn’t local.’ He shook his head. ‘And they’re as experienced at surviving out here as you are.’

Hyrald looked at him questioningly but it was Nordath who answered. ‘They’re making too much smoke,’ he said, recalling Endryk’s comments about his own fire-lighting efforts the previous day. ‘I understand what you meant about an enemy seeing us, now. I never realized.’

‘No reason why you should,’ Endryk replied, without taking his eyes off the rising smoke.

‘Who is it, then?’ Hyrald asked.

‘I don’t know. But our wisest plan is to assume they’re after us – you, anyway – and act accordingly.’

‘We could go and find out,’ Rhavvan suggested, raising a clenched fist. ‘Sneak up on them. I’m getting heartily sick of running.’

Endryk shook his head but did not argue. ‘I sympathize,’ he said quietly. ‘But it’s much further than it looks – the best part of what we’ve covered today. And that’s no small fire – there could be quite a few of them. Plus the fact that you’d lose your line of sight as soon as you got back down into the trees. You’d get lost.’

Rhavvan scowled and grunted but said nothing further.

‘Assuming it is someone chasing us, what should we do?’ Hyrald asked.

‘Carry on as we were intending,’ Endryk replied uneasily. ‘Just take more care covering our tracks, keep a good guard at night and watch our backs all the time. For the moment we have the advantage. We know where they are, but they don’t know where we are, or even that we’re here. We must keep it that way.’

He motioned the group upwards towards the ridge. ‘We’d better hurry. It’s getting dark and we don’t want to be using lights to find our way.’

The final ascent proved to be longer and steeper than it had seemed from below and it was a sweating and freely panting group that Endryk finally hustled over the ridge. Thyrn supported his uncle while the others led the horses. Endryk made them hug the edge of an outcrop and for the first time since they had set out, he showed some real urgency, constantly looking back and discreetly both keeping them together and urging them forward. He relaxed only when they were safely over, then, telling the others to rest, he went back up to the ridge and, crouching low, spent some time watching the still climbing smoke.

‘Why the rush all of a sudden?’ Rhavvan asked when he returned. ‘I thought you said they were almost a day away.’

‘It was just in case they knew what they were doing and had a lookout. A good man up a tree might have seen us against the skyline, especially if he had a glass.’

Rhavvan closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Give me a couple of thugs in an alleyway any day,’ he said, patting the long staff fastened to his horse. ‘This is not my kind of country.’

‘It will be soon,’ Endryk said, unexpectedly serious. ‘You’d wit enough to hear those men on the beach coming and courage enough to deal with them. You’ll survive here if you keep your heads clear – watch, listen, think, learn – like Thyrn here.’ He pointed back at the ridge. ‘Arvenstaat’s got no army or even a military tradition, so if that’s someone looking for you – and it probably is – they won’t be some trained elite, they’ll be your own kind. And this won’t be their kind of country either. In fact, looking at the state of that fire, it certainly isn’t. They’ll be lucky if they don’t burn their own camp down.’

‘Do you want to press on while there’s some light?’ Hyrald asked, unsettled by Endryk’s remarks. ‘Get further away from them?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Endryk replied after a little thought. ‘On the whole it’ll be safer if we can see where they are. If we get the chance, we’ll lay a false trail tomorrow just in case they are following us. We’ll camp here tonight, near the top. That way we can keep an eye on them through the night and particularly first thing in the morning.’

The weather, however, worked against them. They were roused the next day by Endryk to be greeted by a damp, grey mist as they emerged from their tents. Endryk had already lit a small fire and cooked a rudimentary meal. He was unusually brisk. ‘Eat up quickly,’ he said to his shivering and reluctant charges. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by waiting around here. I don’t think it’s likely but we’ve got to assume your friends are already under way and we need to get out of this.’ An airy wave encompassed the greyness about them. ‘I think it’s in for the day, but it’s probably fairly local. With luck we should move out of it as we drop down.’

Under his urging, the meal was eaten while the horses were being saddled and the camp broken. The only delay he allowed was in ensuring that all signs of their presence were meticulously removed.

Infected by Endryk’s subtle pressure, Rhavvan became impatient to be off. ‘They’ll never see those,’ he exclaimed disparagingly as Endryk carefully disposed of the scarred rocks that he had used as a fireplace.

Endryk continued unmoved. ‘Never underestimate the effects of the small action, Rhavvan,’ he said. ‘There are demons in the details.’

‘You sound like Vashnar.’

Endryk paused and smiled briefly. ‘I’m sure he’s not without some charm.’

‘Come on. Let’s be off.’

Endryk straightened up and gave the site a final glance before turning to leave. ‘People don’t come out here, Rhavvan. We’re intruders – oddities – and we’re as conspicuous as a herd of cattle in the Moot Palace square. Don’t ever forget that.’

For most of the morning they trudged on in gloomy silence, surrounded by the mist and the sound of the nearby river. However, as Endryk had hoped, the mist gradually yellowed and eventually they came out into a bright sunny day. White clouds littered the blue sky. Drifting slowly, they had the purposeful look of a stately armada. The countryside was little different from that which they had been moving through previously, though its dips and rises were more pronounced, its woods darker and more dense, and its vegetation generally had a tough, hardy look to it. One new feature was the proliferation of boulders and large rocky outcrops. Some, spiky and jagged, looked as though they had been thrust through the ground by some act of violence far below, while others, weathered and rounded, looked as though they had been scattered at random by a vast and careless hand. Occasionally, isolated trees and bushes could be seen clinging to sheer rock faces, like determined siege engineers bravely challenging the vaunted invulnerability of a castle wall.

The mood of the group lightened in the sunlight, though the knowledge that others were behind them hung about them like a cold remnant of the morning mist. From time to time, each of them would look back, though it was not often that the ridge they had camped on could be seen.

As they moved along, the river rose to meet them, its steep valley sides disappearing and its location becoming less immediately apparent, though the sound of it was unremitting. Eventually they found themselves standing on its bank.

Despite being so easily hidden by the terrain, it was very wide. It was also very fast and turbulent. In all it was an intimidating sight.

‘I’m coming to the end of the territory that I’ve travelled before,’ Endryk said. ‘And I have to confess it’s been so long since I’ve been here that much of the way I’ve only recalled as we came to it.’ He pointed upstream. Just above the trees, steep rocky walls could be seen. ‘But this I remember clearly. We’ll have to move south for a little while to find a place to get over those, but once we’re over there’s a place where it’s possible to cross – at least it used to be. After that, I’ve no idea. If you choose to carry on west after that, you’ll encounter the Karpas Mountains eventually. I imagine there’ll be other places to cross on the way, but…’ He shrugged and clicked his horse to move on.

As they continued, Hyrald pulled alongside Thyrn. ‘Last night, before we saw that fire, you said you wanted to go back home. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it after that, but is that still what you want?’

Thyrn glanced at Endryk leading the group as if the man’s back might offer him inspiration. Then he looked north. The river was no longer visible. There was just the same hilly countryside that lay in every other direction.

‘It’s no different from here, is it?’ he said.

Hyrald did not know how to reply. Thyrn put his fingertips to his temples. ‘I can still feel part of Vashnar inside me. It’s dim and distant but it’s there, without a doubt. I don’t know what it is, or why it is, but it’s not changed since the other day, and I don’t think it’s going to.’

Hyrald’s expression became concerned. He was about to call Nordath, but Thyrn stopped him. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not a threat – to me, or to any of us. It just is. Like my aching legs and sore behind. I suspect Vashnar can sense me too. It’s probably making him very afraid – he’s not used to what the mind can do. At least I know a little. Perhaps that’s why there’s suddenly someone behind us – his fear.’

Hyrald found himself leaning forward, listening intently. Almost in spite of himself he had grown to like Thyrn as they had made their frantic flight across the country. Though he would perhaps have been hesitant to phrase it thus in front of his colleagues, where a certain worldly cynicism was traditional, it offended him deeply that this awkward but talented and fundamentally harmless young man should be driven from his home and hounded across the country without any semblance of legal process. It offended whatever instincts had originally turned him into a Warden – a protector of the ordinary people. That he and his colleagues had been subjected to the same treatment merely reinforced his sense of offence.

But the Thyrn he was listening to now was different. He had changed. Even as the thought occurred to him, he realized that Thyrn had been changing since they had set out from Endryk’s cottage. His curiosity was as intense as ever, breaking through in a childlike manner from time to time – the incident with the sling had been a case in point – but he was definitely different. Hyrald recalled the sight of Endryk plucking a few feathers from the bird he had killed and then throwing it to Thyrn, who completed the task with only a minimal objection and as though it was something he had done all his life. He saw too, the brief exchange of looks between the two men. Other small incidents came to him – Thyrn asking conspicuous questions and Endryk drawing in everyone else as he answered, Thyrn doing his guard shift without complaint, and quietly supporting his uncle as they clambered up the last ridge.

He recognized the symptoms – Endryk had taken Thyrn in charge. He had done the same himself before now for the benefit of cadet Wardens. And Endryk’s motives were probably the same, a mixture of the altruistic and the selfish. There would be a genuine desire to help someone learn easily what had taken him much time and effort to acquire – a ‘thank you’ to his own teachers – part of the endless drive to improve which threads through the generations. Then there would be a childish impulse to demonstrate one’s own knowledge and superiority – to boast. As Thyrn had done, he looked at Endryk at the head of their small procession. There was scarcely a vestige of the occasional resentment he had felt towards him at the outset. Now he was profoundly glad to have had his guidance throughout this venture. Hyrald had no doubt that it was he who was the junior cadet here and that under his own leadership, the party might have fared very badly indeed. This land might be beautiful and in many ways quietening to the spirit, but aside from any unknown dangers such as the tide that had nearly finished them, the isolation was deeply frightening. Being a capable and practical man, it gave him a particularly disturbing measure of his inadequacy, of his total dependence on others for the vital components of his life such as food and water, not to mention shelter and the countless other small services which were available in the city and whose existence he accepted so casually.

But Endryk was still an enigma. There were so many questions Hyrald wanted to ask him. He judged him to be about six or seven years younger than himself, which, from what he had already spoken of meant that he would have been little more than Thyrn’s age when he came to Arvenstaat. What had sent him here? Had there indeed been some terrible war up there? Was he a fugitive, and if so, from what? It did not seem likely that he was a coward. Where had he learned this way of self-sufficiency? And Rhavvan’s taunt had not been too far from the mark; he did have traits in common with Vashnar – an almost obsessive eye for detail and the consequences of any action. But while in Vashnar this was dark and brooding, in Endryk it illuminated, clarified.

‘Arvenstaat’s got no army, or even a military tradition,’ he had said. The notion of an army was something that most Arvens had difficulty with, in so far as any of them concerned themselves about it. For most of its known history Arvenstaat had experienced only internal strife. No foreign army had ever marched across its borders or even menaced it. As a result, the very idea was inconceivable. True, the Morlider had been troublesome on occasions with their raids on coastal villages, but these had rarely been worse than the riots that tended to mar the peace of Arvenstaat’s larger towns and cities from time to time as the Moot insisted on the implementation of some fatuous and irrelevant legislation. They had always been dealt with eventually by the good souls of the villages rousing themselves and combining to present a substantial and angry presence whenever Morlider ships were seen approaching. Further, however bad the Morlider incursions had been, it was always known that they would not last for long. The floating islands on which they lived were subject to the mysterious currents of the outer sea which sooner or later always drew them away.

Hyrald tried to imagine what a battle between armies would be like. The nearest he could imagine would be Wardens opposing Wardens, but even this he found difficult. A veteran of more than a few riots he was familiar with the procedure for dealing with an angry crowd – holding a shield line, cracking the heads of the ringleaders and leaving the rest plenty of escape routes. But here, in this random and unstructured landscape? It needed little imagination to see how a shield line could be outflanked or how the trees and undergrowth could shelter ambushes. And against a determined enemy, one that could hold a line as well as you, what then?

Hyrald wiped his hand across his brow. It was damp.

Had Endryk been trained to fight in such conflicts? Had he been in one? Was it that that had driven him from his own land?

So engrossed had he become that for a moment he was sorely tempted to ride up to Endryk and ask him outright. But, aware again of Thyrn by his side, he forced his attention back to his concerns. What had he said about Vashnar? ‘Perhaps that’s why there’s suddenly someone behind us – his fear.’ A strange remark. He took up the threads of their conversation.

‘I can’t pretend to understand what’s happening between you and Vashnar, Thyrn,’ he said. ‘But it’s important that you be clear about what you want to do.’

Endryk signalled that they should dismount and walk.

‘I think we need to stop and talk,’ Hyrald said. ‘Decide what we’re going to do when we reach the crossing.’

‘Talk as we walk, Hyrald,’ Endryk said. ‘This place is too closed in. I’d like to get to higher ground. See if we can spot whoever’s behind us before we relax too much.’

‘I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,’ Thyrn said abruptly, but motioning Endryk to continue. ‘Not for me anyway. I’ve not changed my mind since last night. I’ve done nothing wrong. Not even broken my Caddoran Oath – you can all vouch for that. I can see it’s not safe just to go blundering back into the city, but there’s nothing to say we’re going to be safe if we head north.’ He shuffled his feet awkwardly. ‘I know that’s all I’ve been talking about since we got away from Arvenshelm, but I was frightened. I just wanted to get away – anywhere. I’m still frightened, but these last few days I’ve had a chance to think. Wherever we go we’ll have to find food and shelter all the time, day in, day out. No disrespect to any of you but if we hadn’t met Endryk, what state would we be in now? And where will we be in a few months’ time when it’s winter? And what if one of us is hurt, or takes ill?’ He looked at Rhavvan. ‘We’ve all got good lives back in Arvenshelm, you said, and you were right, and I’m going to go back to get mine – find out what’s going on, somehow. Death Cry or not, Vashnar or not, frightened or not.’

He cleared his throat self-consciously. The others stared at his flushed face, far from certain how to deal with this unprecedented outburst. Despite Endryk’s injunction, they had all stopped. Anxious to avoid cross-examination, Thyrn moved on again, making Endryk step aside as he marched his horse purposefully forward.

Any immediate discussion was precluded however, by the fact that they found themselves facing a steep slope covered with tall and close-packed trees. Before they ventured into the silent twilight Endryk drew his sword and cut a long branch for Nordath to use as a staff. ‘You’ll find this a great help,’ he said, as he trimmed it, using the sword as deftly as others might use a knife.

Once or twice, as they laboured up through the gloom, Thyrn stopped and cocked his head on one side.

‘What’s the matter?’ Endryk asked, concerned. ‘Can you hear something?’

Thyrn shook his head vigorously, though more as if to clear it than in denial. ‘Just the leaves rustling, I think, but every now and then it seems to come together as if it made sense, even though I can’t understand it – like a chorus of voices in the distance, or a crowd speaking in a foreign language.’

He looked at Endryk uncertainly as though expecting a laughing rebuke, but Endryk was staring at the trunks surrounding them. They tapered upwards giddyingly. ‘It’s like being in a huge building,’ he said. ‘They say that when the Old Forest spanned the entire land, the trees spoke to one another in some mysterious way and that there were some amongst men who could understand them. And these are old trees.’

‘You’re teasing me,’ Thyrn protested.

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Endryk said with a hesitant smile. ‘But listening to your instincts is always a good idea; they’re older than a lot of the things we use to get by with.’

Eventually, breathing heavily and blinking in the sunlight, they emerged from the leafy gloom on to a gentler slope. Without waiting for a command they all dropped on to the short, springy grass. Rhavvan and Thyrn sprawled out. The ridge ahead of them was clearly visible now. Endryk pointed to a dip in it. ‘That’s where we’re going. If anyone’s watching from down below, there’s no way we can avoid being exposed as we approach it. We’ll just have to move as quickly and as quietly as we can.’

‘Quietly? Whoever they are, they won’t be that close to us yet,’ Rhavvan protested.

‘I told you, we’re intruders here,’ Endryk replied. ‘Voices are an alien sound and they can carry a long way, particularly if the conditions are right. A long way. Which reminds me, we should muffle the horses’ tackle as well.’ He frowned. ‘I’m getting careless.’

‘What!’ Rhavvan exclaimed, levering himself up on to his elbows.

‘Are you sure that’s necessary?’ Hyrald asked in more measured tones before Rhavvan could voice his aggravation further. ‘It seems a bit…’

‘Yes,’ Endryk replied categorically. ‘We’ll be ringing like a Spring Day procession.’ He pointed back down through the trees. ‘If those people are looking for us – for you – it’s vital they’ve no indication where we are, or even that we’re here. I’d dearly like to know where they are as well, but I think we’ll have to settle for flight for the moment and hope that they’ll expose themselves sooner or later. That col’s very visible from the other side and it’s the only way through for a long way. If they come over it carelessly we’ll see them, providing we stay alert. If they don’t they’ll lose a day at least.’

‘What if they’re friends who’ve come to tell us the Death Cry’s been rescinded?’ Nordath asked.

Endryk laughed ruefully. ‘I commend your optimism and your civilized thinking, Nordath. I can’t comment – you know your own best. But even if they are friends we’ll still need to know that for sure before we make contact with them. Let’s rest for a little while so that we can clear the col without stopping again.’

This suggestion met with no opposition and the five relaxed back on the grass. Endryk, sitting higher up the slope, looked at them thoughtfully. Then he took the sling from his belt and, pursing his lips, nudged Thyrn with his foot. As Thyrn glanced up, frowning, Endryk spun the sling gently and looked at him expectantly.

Within a few minutes, the others were also sitting up and watching, for Thyrn was being given instruction in the use of the sling. They were not sitting for long however, as Thyrn’s release proved to be problematical, making no particular direction safe from his errant missiles. Brought to their feet for safety’s sake, and encouraged by Thyrn’s initial ineptitude, the others soon joined in the lesson. Even Nordath was not immune to the competitive lure of the weapon. As it transpired, there being few boulders and attendant pebbles in their immediate vicinity, and with Nals looking disdainfully at Rhavvan’s suggestion that he retrieve those that were thrown any distance, they ran out of ammunition before they ran out of enthusiasm. It was, however, a much more relaxed group that set off up towards the col than had emerged from the trees.

‘People – soldiers – use these things?’ Hyrald asked, handing the sling back to Endryk.

Endryk was silent for a moment. Hefting the sling, and with his eyes fixed on the rocky horizon ahead, it was obvious that he was contending with many memories. Hyrald was about to withdraw his question when Endryk abandoned his brief reverie and pushed the sling casually into his belt. ‘They can be used the same way as an arrow storm,’ he said. ‘To break up infantry, let the cavalry in – very frightening, very dangerous. And for dealing with sentries silently – providing you’re good with one, that is. And, of course, they’re good for hunting small game.’ His voice was flat and empty and Hyrald found he could not ask any of the questions that the reply prompted.

Instead, it was he who was cross-examined. ‘You all carry swords, staves, knives. Are you trained to use them?’

‘We’re trained more to avoid using them if we can,’ he replied. The answer came out almost unbidden. It was the standard one for public consumption, rather than the true one. There was a difference between the formal written ideals of how the Wardens should contain violence, and the reality of it, just as there was with most Moot-inspired ideas.

‘But you are trained in how to use them?’

Hyrald found the question disconcerting but he answered it nevertheless. ‘The short staff mainly. Rhavvan’s unusual, he uses a long staff – he’s very good with it, even close in. It’s not often we have to resort to swords, and then the theory is to use the flat of the blade if possible.’ He raised a significant eyebrow as he imparted this.

‘And the knives?’

‘Knives are knives. They’re working tools, not weapons. Not for us, anyway. Not remotely suitable for our kind of work. And if anyone wants to use one on us…’ He patted the staff hanging from his belt. ‘… give me distance and a big stick any time.’

Endryk nodded, then indicated the bow fastened to his saddle. Hyrald shook his head. ‘Like your sling – not suitable for what we do. We’re supposed to protect people, not kill and maim them – even the bad ones, as far as we can.’ His brow furrowed and he spoke the question that had been building. ‘Why are you concerned about how we’re trained?’

Endryk cast a glance backwards, then shrugged. ‘Just old habits coming back,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize they were ingrained so deeply.’

‘You think we might end up having to fight these people, don’t you?’ Hyrald pressed.

Endryk answered reluctantly. ‘I think it’s a risk,’ he said. ‘It’d certainly be a mistake to ignore the possibility.’ A cloud moved in front of the sun. In its shadow, Hyrald could feel the coolness of the slight breeze that was blowing. He suppressed a shiver.

‘Adren, Rhavvan and I have got experience in dealing with riots, but generally we try to talk our way out of trouble. We’re not soldiers. As for Thyrn and Nordath – I doubt either of them’s even been in a fight worth calling one.’

‘It’s a long time since I’ve done any fighting and I’ve no desire to do any more, I can assure you,’ Endryk said. ‘But…’ The cloud moved from in front of the sun as Endryk paused and he smiled as though reflecting the returned warmth. He waved a hand both to urge the party forward and to dismiss his concerns. ‘Forget it. I’m being too anxious. As you say, we’re hardly a fighting unit, are we? Nor liable to become one with a few hours’ rudimentary training. We’ll just be careful how we go, and keep a good lookout behind us – see if we can find out who’s following us before we make too many plans.’

Hyrald did not feel as reassured as he would have liked. He could see that Endryk was deliberately not voicing all his concerns. Further, it was in neither his nature nor his training to run away from trouble. As a Warden, he was too used to taking charge of events and dealing with them. And he knew that, sooner or later, if they were being pursued, their pursuers would have to be faced and dealt with, whoever they were. Yet too, Endryk was correct; they were not in a position to do anything other than run or surrender.

After they had passed over the col, Endryk clambered part way up one side of it to obtain a better view of the land they had travelled over.

‘I can’t see anything,’ he said unhappily, when he came down. ‘We’ll press on.’

And press on they did, Endryk setting the stiffest pace so far as they descended. Only when they had reached a more wooded area did he slow down.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said frankly. ‘But I didn’t want us to be caught in the open with them perhaps holding the high ground. We’ll rest a little while if you like, before we go on to the river.’

‘Is there any way we can watch the col as we travel?’ Hyrald asked.

‘No. Not now. Not unless you want to climb a tree every few minutes. I’m afraid that while they can’t see us, we can’t see them – whether they’re getting nearer, falling back, or even following us at all.’

‘We’ll press on to the river, then,’ Hyrald concluded. He turned to Thyrn. ‘You still want to go back to Arvenshelm? Forget about going north?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Yes,’ came an equally blunt reply.

An inquiring glance sought the views of Rhavvan and Adren.

‘Thyrn summarized it well enough,’ Adren said. ‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to it but, on the whole, I’d rather deal with trouble here than in some other country.’ Rhavvan just nodded.

Finally, Hyrald turned to Endryk. There was a grimness in their guide’s face that none of them had seen before as he replied. ‘I’m not Arvens, and I’ve little interest in the affairs of your country. But I’ve lived here a long time and lived the way I wanted to, and to that extent I’m in your debt. And it was an Arvenstaat man who helped me when I needed it most.’

‘I won’t argue debts with you, Endryk,’ Hyrald said. ‘We can’t begin to repay what we owe you.’

Endryk gently dismissed the acknowledgement. He spoke haltingly. ‘I’m not sure that I’m ready to go back home yet. I’ve no idea what will be there now. The war was over when I left, but the life I enjoyed – we all enjoyed – was destroyed. I lost some good friends. I don’t know what to do.’

It distressed Hyrald to see Endryk’s quietly assured manner racked thus, but he could say nothing. Abruptly, Endryk’s face cleared. He looked surprised. ‘Just speaking the words,’ he said, though more to himself than the others. ‘We slid into war because we each of us lived our “good” lives – turned away from petty injustice after petty injustice.’ He looked at Rhavvan. ‘Underestimated the effect of small actions – didn’t see the harm that was being done because it happened slowly, quietly, piece by piece. Until suddenly there was a monster devouring our society from within and there were no acceptable choices left.’ He closed his eyes. ‘All that’s needed for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing, as they say. We all know that, don’t we? Well, not again, not here – not anywhere where I can see it happening.’ Opening his eyes he looked at the others one at a time. ‘To do nothing in the face of what’s happened to you will be a betrayal of far more than yourselves. You’re without acceptable choices now. I’ll come with you if I may. Help you find justice before injustice overwhelms everyone. Maybe then I can go home.’

The relief of the whole party was almost palpable, but Hyrald felt the need to press him. ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked soberly. ‘This isn’t your problem and you’ve…’

‘Yes it is.’ Endryk cut across him. ‘It’s…’

He stopped suddenly and held up his hand.

Into the silence came the distant sound of a raucous voice shouting commands.