was replaced by warmth that already showed signs of turning into a hammering heat.
After a good while they approached the Azan village. A long time they waited in the shadow of some rocks near the water pools, but they saw no sign of anybody. Yet people had been here. There was evidence that shepherds had brought their animals to water, for the rocks and stones all around were slick. But the place was quiet now.
They refilled their water bags, and then let the horses drink. All the while it was eerily quiet except for the beat of the drums that thrummed away in the distance. There was no other sound, save for sheep and the high-pitched call of hawks that hovered in the hot air seeking prey, or that sped arrow-like as they hunted among the high ridges.
When the horses had taken their fill, they moved on. The village was ahead, but it too was quiet. It appeared deserted, but it would not be so. The three of them put up their hoods, but they had little chance of seeming as Azan riders. Yet pass through they must, and Lanrik kept a hand near the hilt of his sword. He rode with confidence, and though he wanted to scrutinize the huts for signs of watchers, he did not. It was better that they rode as though they belonged here and did not care who saw them.
No one emerged from the huts, and he heard no noises either. He felt sure they were marked though, and that would go against them when the elùgroths came searching.
They moved ahead. Even if the men had gathered elsewhere to prepare for war, there must still be some left, especially the infirm and elderly.
Aranloth seemed to read his thoughts. “Those who are left are likely herding and hunting,” he said when they were out of earshot.
“Let’s hope they herd and hunt far from the trails that we must follow today,” Lanrik answered.
He said no more, for they came to the horse yard. There he looked around in all directions, but still seeing no sign that they were watched, he dismounted and opened the gate.
Aranloth seemed surprised, but then for the first time since seeing him on the top of the tower the lòhren smiled, and many lines of care and fatigue fell from his face and did not return. He had seen his roan, and it whinnied to him in greeting.
Lanrik fetched the horse, and the lòhren dismounted and ran his hands along the beast’s flanks and patted his withers.
He turned to Lanrik. “For this, I owe you. The two of us have travelled far together, and I thought I had lost him forever.”
Aranloth swapped his saddle around to the roan and led the other horse by hand. There was still no sign of any Azan, and they continued onward.
The sheep pen was empty. It did not look like there was much to graze anywhere in the Graèglin Dennath mountains, and yet it was surprising how well they seemed to fatten even in those dry conditions. There would be places too, hidden in folds of the land, where the pasture was lusher and sweeter than others. No doubt the remaining men had taken the sheep to some such place, but whether the road was visible from it was anyone’s guess. He must assume that it was, and that if they had not been seen yet, they soon would be.
The shoulder of the mountain was on their right, rising to many high ridges, and to their left the valley opened up. The bottom was deep and far away over many steep slopes. Smoke drifted upward, and the air was hazy with heat.
There were many villages down there, and Lanrik got a sense of how vast the lands of the Azan were. For here they were halfway along the range, but it extended hundreds of miles to either side. Southward, beyond the range and into the flat deserts of Grothanon, few reports ever spoke. It was said that the elugs dwelled mostly on the southern slopes of the ranges, but they also inhabited the interior. If so, the enemies ranged against Esgallien were vast in number and toughened by their land.
The morning wore on, growing hotter and hotter. Lanrik was wary of all the silence and stillness. Nothing moved apart from their own slow plodding horses. Eventually they reached the boulders where he and Erlissa had hidden. There he called a halt, for he saw something disturbing.
The