BlackThorn's Doom Page 0,43

Jehnom asked. “Rather than risk losing a supply wagon in the heights.”

“We can shorten our march by more than eighty miles.” Burcott answered. “If we continue around the western spur our path will take us dangerously close to Tarok nor. I would rather battle the forces at Timosh than engage the Morne on open prairie near their stronghold.

“Once Timosh is freed we may be able to gather enough men to assault the black gates of Vi’Eruk, but we have not enough men to do so now.”

“What of Moinar-Thur?” Sahri asked during the brief rest. “How lays the land?”

“It is rough country, treacherous to the unwary.” Burcott answered. “The ground is rarely level, mostly broken hills crisscrossed with deep ravines. To the north it is wooded with stunted trees and thorn-laden brush. To the south lies a foul marsh. The Ravenslaugh, a seething mass of stagnant water and hidden patches of sucking mud.

“It is poison, effluent from Tarok-nor. Foul beasts and loathsome spirits are said to roam its depths. We will go around this obstacle, circling around to the east.”

“It was most fortunate that you had the foresight to ask Lord Burcott along, Jehnom.” The Sahri complimented the Taur Di warrior.

“It was fortunate for both our people that he agreed.” Jehnom answered.

Burcott patted the muzzle of his horse. “If we push hard we can enter the Gorcrahlg after midnight. I can think of no better time to do so.”

“Gorcrahlg?” Jehnom asked not liking the sound of the word.

“It is the narrow pass that leads into Moinar-Thur.” Burcott pointed across the low mountains. “There are three ways into Moinar-Thur, the Gorcrahlg which we intend to use. The Un’eldur, a narrow fissure that leads into Tarok nor, and the tunnel warded by Timosh.”

“Can we not use this Un’eldur and invade the heart of Tarok nor, bypassing the siege of Vi’Eruk?” Jehnom asked.

“Nay,” Burcott answered with a shake of his head. “It is both narrow and treacherous. Barely more than a goat track among the cliffs, a few well armed men could hold an army at bay in those heights.”

“Then Sur’kar uses it not.” Jehnom said in understanding.

“He moves the bulk of his forces through the pass that we will trod.” Burcott answered. “If we move quietly and quickly we may go undetected. If we’re lucky Sur’kar will believe his enemies are trapped in the east and will not look for an army moving along his path.”

Burcott grabbed his reins and swung into his saddle. “Mounted warriors will take the fore and secure the path. Have the Ahmed escort the wagons. Should one become damaged and unable to continue it must be pushed from the pass. We have not the time to tarry while a wheel is replaced.”

The Sahri ducked his head and turned calling for his captains. He explained Burcott’s instructions as they readied to march.

“Can we do this?” Jehnom asked Burcott as they rode towards the path. “Can we liberate Timosh?”

Burcott shrugged it was a question that he had asked himself many times in the last few days. “We will know better once we lay eyes upon the enemy.”

The track through the low mountains was five miles long. A winding treacherous path that clung to the sides of steep slopes and passed through deep cuts in the stone.

The mounts covered the ground quickly while the wagons crawled slowly upward. Eight long hours the trek took, only one wagon was lost when it broke a wheel upon the jagged stone.

It was two hours past midnight when the last of the wagons rumbled down into the rugged foothills within the Gorcrahlg. Burcott ordered a rest and the men collapsed onto the frigid ground, bone weary and sore.

The land of the pass was dark; a heavy cloud cover blocked most of the moon’s light. In the gloom the land before them was a rough rolling plain dotted with stony outcroppings that resembled fortresses assembled by some mad mason. Scouts were sent out and a picket was set about the army.

“In this darkness an army could pass within a mile of us and we would never see it.” Burcott grumbled to Jehnom.

“Nor they us.” The Taur Di countered.

“Aye, it does that.” Burcott was about to sit down upon his bedroll when the sound of horse’s hooves pounded out of the darkness.

The men of the encampment leapt to their feet drawing their swords as they did so. A single rider entered the camp sliding from his saddle before his horse came to a complete stop. He stumbled