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Should I survive this time, and come to some unknown future, will I too, chilled in the bone, stare into the fire, remembering its heat?
He was startled when Pelk twisted in her saddle, and nodded at him, even as she drew her sword.
Kellaras lifted the lance from its socket, half rose in the stirrups – still he could see nothing.
Then there were figures on the path twenty paces ahead, a furtive line of movement. Pelk reined in, and Kellaras moved up alongside her on the left, to guard her flank.
Faces mostly hidden in rough-woven scarves glanced their way, but the procession continued on, from left to right, northward into the forest. Kellaras saw hunting weapons – strung bows, spears.
‘Deniers,’ said Gripp Galas from behind him. ‘A hunting party.’
‘I gave no leave,’ Hish Tulla snapped. She raised her voice. ‘I give no leave! You walk upon Tulla’s Hold!’
The figures halted on the trail, and then, a moment later, one emerged from the south edge of the treeline, stepping on to the track, and then taking a half-dozen strides towards the riders. Drawing away the scarves, he showed a young, thin face. Behind him, hunters were fitting arrows to the strings of their bows.
Hish Tulla snarled under her breath, and then said in a low voice, ‘They would not dare. Are we a hunter’s prey?’
Kellaras edged his mount forward, lowering the tip of his lance. At the gesture the youth halted. ‘Clear the path,’ the captain commanded. ‘There is no reason for death on this day.’
The young man pointed at Hish Tulla. ‘She claims to own what cannot be owned.’
‘You are in a preserve, Denier, and yes, she does indeed own it.’
But the youth shook his head. ‘Then I claim the air she breathes, as it has flowed down from the north – from my homeland. I claim the water in the streams, for they journeyed past my camp.’
‘Enough of this nonsense!’ said Hish Tulla. ‘By your argument, whelp, you can make no claim to any beast dwelling in this forest. Nor to the wood for your fires at night. For they owned this long before you or I ever ventured here.’ She gestured with one mail-clad hand. ‘I hold to one simple rule. You may hunt here, but you will do me the courtesy of announcing your desire first.’
The youth scowled. ‘You would refuse us.’
‘And if I did?’
He said nothing.
‘You are a fool,’ Hish Tulla said to h
im. ‘You ask, so that I may say yes. Do you believe you are the first hunters to visit my land? I see none but strangers behind you. Where are my old neighbours, with whom I shared gifts, and with whom I exchanged words of respect and honour?’
The youth tilted his head to one side. ‘If you so desire,’ he said, ‘I will take you to them. They are not far. We came upon their bones this morning.’
Hish Tulla was silent for a long moment, and then she said, ‘Not by my hand.’
The hunter shrugged. ‘This, I think, would ease their grief.’
‘Have you found a trail?’ Gripp Galas suddenly asked. ‘The slayers – do you now track them?’
‘Too long past,’ replied the youth. He shifted his attention back to Hish Tulla. ‘We shall not be long here,’ he said. ‘This forest you call yours is of no interest to us.’
‘Then where do you go?’ Gripp asked.
‘We seek the Glyph, who walks beside Emurlahn.’ He pointed at Hish Tulla. ‘Tell the soldiers, the innocents of the forest are all dead. Only we remain. Their deaths did not break us. When the soldiers come again into the forest, we will kill them all.’
The young hunter returned to his troop, and moments later the last of them had filed across the track, vanishing into the trees.
‘What is this Glyph he speaks of?’ Hish asked.
Shrugging, Gripp said, ‘They are organized now.’
‘They cannot hope to cross blades with Legion soldiers.’
