Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [146]
“I’m sure they dug a spring or two just in case this happened. From what I’ve seen of them, they don’t leave one cursed thing to chance.”
“Well, there we are, then. What worries me are those hills.” Rhodry made a wide sweep with his arm. “I wish I’d paid more attention to them, like, before the war started. They could retreat through them for all I care, but what I’m wondering is, can they get enough men out that way to fall on us from behind?”
“Circle round, you mean? Good question.”
And one, it turned out, that the noble-born had been wondering over themselves. It wasn’t long before Lord Erddyr came through the camp, calling for volunteers to do a little night scouting. Rhodry stepped forward immediately. With his half-elven sight, he could see well in darkness, especially since the moon was half-full.
“And from a height I should be able to get the lay of the land for you, my lords.”
“True spoken, Silver Dagger,” Erddyr said. “Can that, er, beast of yours fly at night?”
“Well enough for a simple task like this.”
Yet in the event, there was a limit to what Rhodry could discover. When he returned from a pass over the northern hills, he drew out the general shape of the land for the council of lords, but from his height, he hadn’t been able to distinguish important details, such as whether the ground lay broken or smooth, or how thick the forest cover grew.
“We’ll have to send scouts after all,” Erddyr said. “At least you’ve given them an idea of what they’ll be facing.”
“I’ll go on foot,” Rhodry started to say. “I—”
“You’ll do naught of the sort! You’re the only man here who can ride that thing, and it proved its worth today.”
“She, my lord. Not an it, but she.”
“As you wish.” Erddyr’s smile was a bit glazed. “But you’re staying here anyway.”
“I’ll go,” Yraen said. “I’ve some idea of the country round here.”
“Good,” Erddyr said. “I’ll find a few others, too. But listen, lad. Just get a quick idea of the lay of the land, how many wretched trees we’ve got to deal with, things like that. Don’t risk too much. It’s only the first night, and for all we know, we’re in for a long stand-off of it.”
By then, the wheel of stars marked out midnight. Yraen took his sword off his belt, because it might clank and give him away, though he kept his dagger, and he left his mail behind for the same reason. He rubbed ashes from a cold fire over his face and hands to darken them, then set out from the easternmost, edge of the Deverry camp. With the sharp bulk of the ridge, fringed with tents, so clear against the stars, he had a good idea of where he was and where he was going. Since the woods here on the flat had been coppiced and the ground gleaned for every possible stick of dead wood, he could stay hidden and silent among the trees. He angled off to the south, following the line of the ridge but a good safe distance away, until he reached the flank of the low hill into which the actual ridge rose.
There he hesitated. He could see by the sudden immensity of shadow that about halfway up the hill the woods turned shrubby again. He could move there without being seen, but staying silent was another matter. He climbed the hill to the edge of the tended woods, found a low stone wall to mark the difference, and walked along it for a ways back in the direction of the Horsekin camp. He could see that with so much ground cover, the enemy wasn’t going to be able to bring any kind of cavalry force out of their camp in this direction. But how far did the camp extend? He paused, considering. By sticking to the wall and keeping low, he would be impossible to see, and the footing was still good. It would do no harm to go on for a ways more.
Yet something stopped him, a feeling, a sudden sensation that the danger had just magnified itself. He dropped and crouched behind the wall, then began to move, hunkered down awkwardly, back in the direction he’d come. All at once, he heard them, crashing through the woods, men running downhill and toward him. He got up and ran, angling through