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Kerzolde looked up into the early dawn light and pointed with his broken claw at the dark tree line that stretched across the horizon. 'Nearly home, Master. That is the eaves of Meremire Forest.'
Krulshards looked anxiously at the paling sky and cracked the twelve-tailed whip across Kerzolde's face, 'Silence, fool, none must know of our pa.s.sing.'
Kerhunge touched the hem of the malice where it billowed in the dawn breeze and silently pointed first to a line of twinkling lights that were spread out in a crescent shape far to their left and then towards a lone swan, flying low and fast across the gra.s.slands.
'Faster! Faster!' hissed Krulshards, lengthening his stride for the eaves of the forest.
Ousious had found their tracks with the first morning light and followed their burned and trampled path far across the
gra.s.slands until she saw Krulshards' black shadow running for the forest edge. 'Elionbel!' she sang in piercing notes. 'I bring you word from Thanehand!' she cried, seeing Elionbel roughly held between two Nightbeasts.
Elionbel twisted and struggled, crying out as the shadow of the swan pa.s.sed over her. Ousious circled, calling to Elionbel, gliding dangerously close to the Nightmare. 'Thane cannot follow you until the ice field melts, but his heart yearns to be with you.'
Krulshards reached inside his malice, unhooked a blackbladed spear and hurled it up into the dark shape of the flying swan. Ousious shrieked and for a moment plunged
towards the ground. Krulshards pulled hard on the fine thread attached to the spear but Ousious fought against him and broke the blade, leaving a splinter of steel embedded deep
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ainside her chest. Struggling, she rose up away from the hail of Nightbeastspears and turned back towards Swanwater and the long journey home. 'Thanehand, Thanehand will follow,' she weakly cried, vanishing into the beginnings of a new morning.
Krulshards ran the Nightbeasts under the eaves of Meremire Forest into the dense undergrowth, then stopped. Gripping both women firmly, his hands gagging their mouths, he watched a new threat to their safety drawing closer as the crescent of Marchers and Gallopers pa.s.sed slowly along the forest edge.
Silently gloating he let both women watch as Tombel came into sight. He looked older, worry worn and tired, yet the two great Marcher swords he carried resting across his shoulders were dirtied and black with Nightbeast blood.
'I smell Nightbeasts!' he shouted, coming on to Krulshards'
tracks where they had left the gra.s.slands, turning away from the forest. He_followed them for a few paces into the gra.s.slands. Elionbel, with one mighty effort, sank her teeth into the Nightmare's hand, shearing through the rotten sinews of his finger and cried out to her father, one piercin
cry before Krulshards smothered her in the malice.
Tombel spun round, both swords sweeping in a glittering arch. 'Where did that cry come from?' he shouted, searching the dark forest eaves.
'It must have been the grey swan, Father,' Rubel called running to his father's side. 'It pa.s.sed low overhead, swooping and dipping, singing its strange death chant.' Shivering ho watched the swan before saying, with an edge of fear in ha voice, 'The aged crones say that the voice of the swan i: someone's death call.'
'Crones' tales!' Tombel muttered, lowering the swords an.
turning his back on Meremire Forest. 'Nothing but crones tales in a swan's voice, and I thought for a moment that
heard Elionbel's voice crying out.'
Sighing, Tombel walked a few paces into the gra.s.sland.
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'Come on, Rubel, we shall marshal the crescent and sweep out across these gra.s.slands. Thane and Arbel could be anywhere in this vastness.'
Rubel frowned, wrinkling his nose. 'Wait, Father,' he said quietly, rubbing at the wound on his arm, 'there is something here, something that strikes terror into my heart. It's the Nightmare!' he cried, gripping his father's arm, sniffing the dawn air. 'The smell is here, the Nightmare's smell, that same smell that filled our Wayhouse after Krulshards had taken mother and Elionbel, and Arbel struck that sword blow. That same smell is all around us!'
Tombel steadied Rubel, holding him until he had stopped shaking. Turning, he knelt and sniffed the ground, catching the rancid smell of rotten flesh, the smell of Krulshards. 'There are different tracks mixed up amongst these Nightbeasts'
footprints. Look how the ground has been burned and blackened.'
'But which way did the Nightmare travel?' Rubel asked, staring into the shadows of the forest.
Tombel frowned, straightened his back and walked towards the forest edge. 'There are too many tracks to tell, they cross and muddle. The Nightmare could have travelled either way.'
Krulshards stepped backwards, tightening his grip on Elionbel and Martbel, smothering them with the hem of the malice, and motioning silently with his hand, he spread the Nightbeasts on either side of him, their spear blades pointing out towards the Marchers.
'Which way, Father?' Rubel pressed impatiently.
Tombel sighed and turned away from the forest. 'There are too many tangle-trees in this forest. We would be risking the
entire crescent of Marchers, putting them in great danger, if we try to pa.s.s through the trees, and if we stray off the Greenways the Gallopers cannot follow us. I counsel that we search the gra.s.slands. If Thane had pursued the Nightmare on this road he would have left a sign or waymarked the path.
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I say that the Nightmare has turned towards Clatterford and the wildlands beyond. I council that these tracks beneath the forest eaves belong to a band of Mghtbeasts that are travelling with Krulshards.'
'Forward, Marchers, and Gallopers!' Rubel cried, pointing
the blade of his sword out across the winter-grey gra.s.ses. 'We may be on the trail of the Nightbeasts who captured my brother, Arbel. Forward!'
Krulshards laughed and lifted the edge of the malice.
'Watch, Marcherwomen,' he sneered, 'and shout until your lungs burst, but they will not hear you above the tramp of their marching feet and the clatter of their horses' hooves. You are lost for ever and our road is clear through the ancient forest to the City of Night and your torment in the darkness.'
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Great Deeds
Thane woke to the clamour of hissing voices all around him.
The grey swans were moving in a dense waddling flock along the beach, craning their necks in alarm towards the ice field.
Swanwater echoed to the thunder of beating wings as swan after swan left the surface of the lake and flew searching across thrice field.
Ogion stood statue-still at the water's edge, his head tilted to one side, staring into the distance. 'My Queen has gone,'
he hissed at Thane, as he came hurrying down to the water's edge. 'The Queen of Swans has followed the Nightmare and I fear for her life.'
Thane spread his hands in a helpless gesture and looked out across Swanwater. 'If only Mulcade were here,' he whispered, 'he would find her for you, for he is the sharpesteyed Lord of Owls that ever flew in Elundium.'
Stumble snorted and drank deeply from the lake. Ogion spread his wings and ran into the water. 'I can hear her, far, far away, across the ice field.' Beating his wings, he rose up out of a plume of white spray and headed low across the tumble of creaking ridges that marked the edge of the ice field.
Thane paced the empty beach, watching the clouded grey horizon. It was bitterly cold and he rubbed his hands together to warm them. He could hear the swan music, haunting as it cut across the wind, gradually getting closer. Stumble heard a change in the swan voices and p.r.i.c.ked his ears. Neighing
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