the sun.”
Aranloth showed no reaction, but he answered.
“He and I have both known for a long time that a battle was coming. He was one of my best students, before even the Camar came eastward. Long have we known each other. Long have we waited. Perhaps the student is now stronger than the master. Perhaps not. But if I die, you must still return to Esgallien. On you, much will fall, for you are now a lòhren. Alone or aided, you must help the people. Promise me.”
Erlissa, pale and trembling, opened her eyes.
“I promise.”
16. Like Ancient Kings
Lanrik studied Aranloth.
The lòhren still looked tired, but now he also appeared preoccupied. A great cloud of anxiety hung over him. Perhaps it was the likelihood that he must fight the elùgroth. He would know that in such a battle he would not only risk his life but also the future of many lands besides Esgallien. If he perished, it would be an incalculable blow to Alithoras.
There was more though. Overshadowing the obvious was something less clear. His earlier words had hinted at it. Elù-Randùr had been a student. Aranloth had known him well, and they might even have been friends. He would dread any confrontation, for in such a combat he must either die or kill someone who had once meant much to him.
Lanrik sighed and let his gaze fall to the ground. There, he saw something that he did not like.
“A column of riders has come this way,” he warned the others. “And recently.”
Erlissa followed his gaze. “We came this way ourselves with the Raithlin. Are you sure they’re not our own tracks?”
“The marks are confused. I see our old trail. And I see by the length of the strides that at least one rider has passed over them swiftly afterwards. But there are other tracks. More recent, and far more numerous.”
“Who do you think they were?” Aranloth asked.
“I cannot tell. Perhaps Azan. Perhaps Royal Guards.”
“Either is bad news,” the lòhren said. “But there’s nothing for it. We must enter the swamp and be careful.”
Lanrik looked southward at the oncoming riders.
“You’re right. But being careful will slow us down.”
He did not wait for any response. Instead, he urged his mount toward the dark arch that began the trail through the fringe of trees. He drew his sword and went forward slowly. If there was some ambush prepared it would likely be sprung sooner rather than later. But either way, the three of them would be caught between enemies behind and ahead. He wished desperately for some sign of the Raithlin, but they may have been forced far away, or even killed.
He entered the swamp. Immediately, it grew darker. The air was clammy and stifling. There was a brooding atmosphere to the place, and now he smelled smoke himself. It was stronger within the protection of the trees where the wind could not take it and spread it over the plains. Something had happened here, and the Raithlin were surely part of it.
They were going too slowly, and their enemies would catch up rapidly. But he could not help that. He studied the trail and watched for any hint of an ambush. He feared every shadow, every rustle of leaves, every narrowing of the trail where the trees gathered densely about them. But nothing happened.
He urged his mount ahead at a slightly faster pace. The tracks of many horses were now quite plain in the dirt of the trail. They all headed into the swamp. None came out. That could be taken as good or bad. Either way, the smell of smoke grew stronger.
They went onward for perhaps an hour. The smoke hung heavy in the air. The swamp was quiet, except for the sound of their pursuers. They must also slow down in here, but they still hurried at a faster pace than Lanrik. The enemy feared no ambush, but very soon now Lanrik faced a choice: speed up and travel recklessly, or abandon the trail and attempt to hide. It was not something that he would normally consider in a swamp, but here, the land was not so wet as he was used to.
He rode on the edge of the trail, seeking a place where they would not leave any tracks, though he had not yet decided on this course of action. As he did so, he heard the yelp of a fox.
There was no movement, and no further sound, but the yelp had come from somewhere close by, and he