though. They know the swamp favors us.”
“So it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s three to one, and they know it. Confidence outstrips their wariness.”
The man sat silent on his steed. He had nothing further to report.
Talgin searched the column and signaled for the brothers Arawdan and Arawnus to come over.
He turned back to the scout. “Spread the news among the men.”
The scout moved off and the two brothers approached and pulled up their horses.
“The guards follow us,” he said.
The brothers showed no surprise.
“Shall we leave the swamp and lead them on a game of cat and mouse?” Arawnus asked.
“We could,” Talgin said. “But that would only be putting things off. Sooner or later they would catch up with us and force the issue, whether it was on the plains or in this swamp. And we can’t afford to miss Lanrik and Erlissa when they return. If they do. When that happens they’ll likely need our help, and they’ll probably need it quickly.”
“Then there’s nothing else for it,” Arawdan said.
Talgin gave a slight nod. These were the two best Raithlin apart from Lanrik, and they understood what was needed.
“Go ahead and find a suitable place,” he said.
They required no further explanation. After exchanging a quick glance among themselves, they turned their horses and trotted off.
Talgin signaled the column to move forward. The two brothers travelled ahead at a faster pace, but the line of Raithlin would catch up with them.
Leadership was a burden. He knew better than the others what would soon transpire. They guessed what he would do, but that was not the same thing as making the actual decision. If people died, their fate was on his hands. He had seen too much death lately, and was too old for this sort of responsibility. But the men still obeyed him without question. Had they known that Lanrik was now the true Lindrath … well, they would obey him too. He had won their respect years ago, and beyond doubt earned more of it in the last few years. He was become a legend to them. And he was a fitting successor.
The king might think he could disband the Raithlin. But they were all brothers and sisters, and they were bonded even closer now after what they had endured. When the time came, they would follow Lanrik without question, and many of them, they younger ones in particular, would join his new Raithlin in Lòrenta. The order would continue, and Lanrik would head it.
Lanrik would be shocked if he knew that the title of Lindrath was officially his. Not just for the new order, but also the old. He had been in a daze in Conhain’s tomb. Small wonder after what had transpired there, but the ritual of succession, such as it was, had been carried out. The link remained unbroken between Conhain, the first Lindrath, and now Lanrik. All that it had entailed was a few simple words in the Halathrin tongue, whispered under his breath: halar, diril and Milath. Duty, honor and love – the center points of the Raithlin creed. And of course they were said in combination with the secret Raithlin hand sign: the thumb pulling down both middle fingers, leaving the two outside fingers standing up to represent the pricked ears of a fox, a symbol of cleverness.
The column wound onward into the depths of the swamp. The path sloped downward, and now from time to time there were wet areas where mud lay to the sides and even some small bodies of water. These were mostly isolated water holes, and well used as wallows by the aurochs. Their tracks were everywhere near here. It seemed that as the land dried up, the beasts had less choice of places to drink and those that existed were frequented more often. It was good to know from a hunter’s point of view, but just at the moment Talgin and the Raithlin were the ones being hunted.
A Raithlin behind him spoke. He was one of the youngest in the group.
“I wish this was a real swamp. They would never find us then.”
“That’s true,” Talgin answered quietly. “But we can be grateful for this at least – there are less mosquitoes, and that’s got to be a good thing.”
The men around him mumbled in quiet agreement. Raithlin spoke little, always listening and avoiding making noise when on a trail. That the young man had spoken in the first place was a sign of nerves. Not