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By Root 1089 0

then Gwin, and finally Salamander, taking the rear—and the dust that would make seeing difficult—because he knew the trail. Although Jill had to coax her horse onto the trail, once he started he settled down, as if in his dull equine way he realized that he’d be better off getting it over with, and the extra stock that she was leading came along steadily after him. The trail turned out to be a scant three feet wide except at the switchbacks, where it widened like the scour of a river’s bends to about eight feet across, just barely room enough for a clever horse to turn himself round. Occasionally the cliff face bulged out, forcing her to lie along her horse’s neck as they squeezed past, because leaning out and away would have been a dangerous maneuver indeed. Yet, so long as she didn’t look down over the edge, she found the going much easier than she’d expected.

At the bottom, where the trail widened into a proper road, heading off to join the river, there was a tall slab of stone covered with Bardekian writing. Jill went some yards past it, then paused her horses and turned in the saddle to watch the others, an understandable impulse that was something of a mistake. When she saw Rhodry coming down, with his horse apparently crawling like a fly on the cliff face, she felt honestly faint, sick to her stomach, and light-headed as she clung to her saddle peak and wondered what had ever possessed her to make a ride like that. She didn’t look again until all three of the men were safe and Rhodry was beside her.

“I couldn’t watch when you were riding down, my love,” he said. “But doing it myself wasn’t so bad.”

“I felt the same, truly. Salamander says we’re going to camp here for the rest of the day.”

“Good. Ye gods, this sun feels splendid.”

With a lazy grin he stretched in the saddle, turning his face to the sky with a real delight in the simple feel of the warmth. It was an elven gesture, and she realized more of the change in him, that losing his memory had stripped the perfect warlord away from his core of self in the same way that he’d throw off his armor after a battle. But what’s he going to do when he has to ride as cadvridoc again? she thought, and with the thought came a cold fear, a wondering if he were still the man that Aberwyn needed. When Gwin came riding over, she almost welcomed his interruption.

“Are we going to camp by the river?” Gwin was looking only at Rhodry. “They don’t get flooding up here.”

“We might as well, then.” Rhodry glanced her way. “What do you say, my love?”

“Sounds fine.”

When she happened to look at Gwin, their eyes met, and he arranged a hasty smile, but not quickly enough to cover an expression that she could only call murderous. I’m not the truly jealous one, am I? she thought. I’d best tell Salamander about this.

That night, just after sunset, in a suite of painted rooms in an inn some fifty miles downriver from Pastedion, the Hawkmaster was eating a meal of roast pork and spiced vegetables washed down with fine white wine. Crouched at his feet, Baruma gobbled the occasional scraps that the master threw his way. When a slice of pork fell beside him, he snatched at it only to find himself face-to-face with the wolf, growling soundlessly. This close Baruma could see that its eyes were only two glowing spheres of reddish light. He was so hungry that he would have fought a demon from the Third Hell for that bit of pork.

“Go away!” he snarled. “It’s mine!”

The wolf bared white fangs and lowered its ears.

“What?” the Hawkmaster turned in his chair. “What is that thing?”

“A wolf, master. It hates me. It follows me everywhere.”

“It’s not a real creature, you fool. Who sent it after you?”

“I don’t know.” Baruma thought hard, pushing his clouded mind to its limits. “An enemy.”

“I didn’t think it was a gift from a friend, no.” The master kicked him in the stomach, but only lightly. “How long ago did it appear?”

“Weeks. After I visited you in Valanth. You didn’t send it, then? I think I remember thinking you might have sent it.”

“No, I didn’t. Now isn’t this interesting? Did the