The great hunt - By Robert Jordan Page 0,96

the houses from four directions, thundering in with eyes searching, lances ready, dust rising under their hooves. Nothing moved but them. They drew rein, and the dust began to settle.

Rand returned to his quiver the arrow he had nocked, and slung his bow on his back again. Mat and Perrin did the same. Loial and Hurin had just waited there where Ingtar had left them, watching uneasily.

Ingtar waved, and Rand and the others rode up to join the Shienarans.

“I don’t like the smell of this place,” Perrin muttered as they came among the houses. Hurin gave him a look, and he stared back until Hurin dropped his eyes. “It smells wrong.”

“Bloody Darkfriends and Trollocs went straight through, my Lord,” Uno said, pointing to a few tracks not chopped to pieces by the Shienarans. “Straight through to the goat-kissing ferry, which they bloody left on the other side. Blood and bloody ashes! We’re flaming lucky they didn’t cut it adrift.”

“Where are the people?” Loial asked.

Doors stood open, curtains flapped at open windows, but no one had come out for all the thunder of hooves.

“Search the houses,” Ingtar commanded. Men dismounted and ran to comply, but they came back shaking their heads.

“They’re just gone, my Lord,” Uno said. “Just bloody gone, burn me. Like they’d picked up and decided to flaming walk away in the middle of the bloody day.” He stopped suddenly, pointing urgently to a house behind Ingtar. “There’s a woman at that window. How I bloody missed her. . . .” He was running for the house before anyone else could move.

“Don’t frighten her!” Ingtar shouted. “Uno, we need information. The Light blind you, Uno, don’t frighten her!” The one-eyed man disappeared through the open door. Ingtar raised his voice again. “We will not harm you, good lady. We are Lord Agelmar’s oathmen, from Fal Dara. Do not be afraid! We will not harm you.”

A window at the top of the house flew up, and Uno stuck his head out, staring around wildly. With an oath he pulled back. Thumps and clatters marked his passage back, as if he were kicking things in frustration. Finally he appeared from the doorway.

“Gone, my Lord. But she was there. A woman in a white dress, at the window. I saw her. I even thought I saw her inside, for a moment, but then she was gone, and. . . .” He took a deep breath. “The house is empty, my Lord.” It was a measure of his agitation that he did not curse.

“Curtains,” Mat muttered. “He’s jumping at bloody curtains.” Uno gave him a sharp look, then returned to his horse.

“Where did they go?” Rand asked Loial. “Do you think they ran off when the Darkfriends came?” And Trollocs, and a Myrddraal. And Hurin’s something worse. Smart people, if they ran as hard as they could.

“I fear the Darkfriends took them, Rand,” Loial said slowly. He grimaced, almost a snarl with his broad nose like a snout. “For the Trollocs.” Rand swallowed and wished he had not asked; it was never pleasant to think on how Trollocs fed.

“Whatever was done here,” Ingtar said, “our Darkfriends did it. Hurin, was there violence here? Killing? Hurin!”

The sniffer gave a start in his saddle and looked around wildly. He had been staring across the river. “Violence, my Lord? Yes. Killing, no. Or not exactly.” He glanced sideways at Perrin. “I’ve never smelled anything exactly like it before, my Lord. But there was hurting done.”

“Is there any doubt they crossed over? Have they doubled back again?”

“They crossed, my Lord.” Hurin looked uneasily at the far bank. “They crossed. What they did on the other side, though. . . .” He shrugged.

Ingtar nodded. “Uno, I want that ferry back on this side. And I want the other side scouted before we cross. Just because there was no ambush here doesn’t mean there will not be one when we are split by the river. That ferry does not look big enough to carry us all in one trip. See to it.”

Uno bowed, and in moments Ragan and Masema were helping each other out of their armor. Stripped down to breechclouts, with a dagger stuck behind in the small of the back, they trotted to the river on horsemen’s bowed legs and waded in, beginning to work their way hand over hand along the thick rope along which the ferry ran. The cable sagged enough in the middle to put them in the river to their waists, and the