The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy: Honoured Enemy, Murder in Lamut, Jimmy the Hand. Raymond E. Feist
march now, you won’t have twenty men left come dawn.’
Dennis turned away from the priest, his gaze slowly sweeping the ranks of the men gathered round him. Then, for a brief instant an image flashed through his mind. He glanced back at the priest, and the image faded.
Corwin saw Dennis examining him and said, ‘What?’
Dennis was silent for a moment, then, ‘Nothing,’ he said.
He looked at his men and saw precious little support amongst them. The priest was right, they were played out: fording the river had sapped the last of their strength and the forced march of the afternoon had been a final lunge of desperation. All were on the verge of collapse.
He shifted his gaze to Asayaga. It was hard to read the strange blankness the Tsurani could assume when they desired. He wondered if Asayaga was in agreement, or was filled with contempt for the weakness of his enemy.
‘Rest would be good,’ Asayaga ventured. ‘Some have marched sixty of your miles or more without sleep for two days. Half my men will die before morning from the freezing sickness.’
Dennis was startled by the admission. He looked over at Tinuva and Gregory.
‘My friend,’ Gregory said softly, ‘there are times when you forget that few can equal your endurance; it is your only fault as a leader.’
‘But you would agree they might be close?’
Tinuva stood up and stepped away from the circle to the edge of the knoll where they had stopped for the meeting. All were silent as he carefully scanned the distant horizon, then raised his head, nostrils flaring as if smelling the cold wind.
‘I’ve not walked this land in years,’ he sighed, turning to look back at the expectant group. ‘I’ve lost touch with its rhythms, its heart beat, the feel of its wind, the scent of the soil and the things that grow here.’ He paused. ‘I can tell you though that we are the first to disturb this place since the snows began to fall. But that does not mean we will be alone for long. I know who is pursuing us now, and that makes me cautious of lingering here.’
Several of Dennis’s men asked him to explain, to say who was in pursuit but he would not answer. He slowly walked among the men, his searching glance assessing each of them in turn. He paused for a moment before Corwin, gazing deep into his eyes, then turned away.
‘The brown robe is right, however. We try to march for another night and many will fall.’ He turned and looked back at the knot of Tsurani gathered behind Asayaga. ‘Especially with you,’ Tinuva continued, speaking now in Tsurani. ‘The ice, the cold is alien to you. You, Asayaga, know that, even if your pride would have you march with us until the last of you collapsed into silent death.’
Asayaga, startled by the elf’s skill in speaking Tsurani, simply nodded.
‘The temperature will drop tonight now that the worst of the storm has passed. Come dawn it will be far colder.’ As he spoke Tinuva turned back to Dennis, again speaking the King’s tongue. ‘Ice can kill as surely as an arrow or blade. Though I fear that we have yet to lose our foes, we must stop. Let us enter the forest ahead, dig in there before dark, build fires, make what shelter we can but we stay alert. That is what I suggest.’
Dennis sighed and slowly extended his hands in a gesture of submission. ‘So be it then if that is what all of you wish.’
Murmurs of agreement and relief swept through the ranks and the group broke apart, slowly streaming up the hill and into the forest. Dennis insisted on pushing them another half a mile until he found ground to his liking, a steep overhanging cliff that blocked the north wind which was ringed with ancient firs.
His men knew their assignments: a half dozen of the best stalkers and archers set out to hunt for game, another half dozen were detailed to spread out and stand watch while the others hurriedly started to gather in wood for fires.
Asayaga approached Dennis, vainly struggling to control the shivering of his muscles and the chattering of his teeth that had troubled him ever since the river crossing.
‘My men …’ he hesitated, “… we will trade our labour for the food your hunters bring in.’
Dennis looked over at the Tsurani and for the briefest of moments almost felt pity, the way one would pity a wolf that had fallen out of the pack and was near death. Their agony was evident, half a dozen were being held up by their comrades, several obviously had frost-bitten cheeks, noses, and fingers.
Tinuva said I’d need these men, Dennis thought. Hell, I could kill off half of them myself at this moment … and he pushed aside the temptation.
‘Go a little way back down the hill to the small pine trees, cut off the branches that are thick with needles. We’ll use that for ground cover and to build up windbreaks. Any men with axes, get them chopping wood, lots of it.’
Asayaga nodded, too weary to raise any objections, and withdrew. A moment later, his men scattered to their tasks.
The overhang of the cliff formed a shallow V, but it was nowhere big enough to hold over a hundred and twenty men. Dennis went over to join a squad of men who were dragging up fallen logs to be wedged between the rocks edging the overhang and the trees further out, thus forming a rough stockade.
Within minutes fires had been started, the stockade walls on either side of the overhang were rising. Tsurani troops swarmed in bearing armloads of pine branches which were layered over the logs on the inside, while on the outside those men carrying field shovels packed snow into the cracks. More branches were laid in under the rocky overhang and those men too far gone to labour were bundled in, while Brother Corwin piled snow into a camp kettle and set it into the fire, and then threw in a handful of tea leaves once the water started to boil.
The first hunter came back in with a small doe over his shoulder and several men set to butchering it, everything but the offal going into the fire. Corwin claimed the liver and heart for the sick and wounded. Another hunter came in with a couple of hares, and yet another with a heavy dark-plumed bird that weighed near to twenty pounds. The Tsurani gazed at in wonder, since it did not range down into the lands where the war was being fought.
Soon the tantalizing smell of roasting meat cooked over a sweet-scented fire filled the air, driving the men to pause in their frantic labours and move closer to the flames until either Sergeant Barry or Strike Leader Tasemu set the men back to bringing in more wood.
A near-frenzy started to seize the group as more and yet more wood was piled on to the three fires that now roared at the base of the cliff. Dennis, finished with helping to build the rough stockade which was now nearly chest-high, stopped to look at the sparks swirling up into the evening sky.
Gregory, breathing hard, came into the encampment and joined him.
‘A damned beacon,’ Dennis sighed. ‘A blind man will see its glow from five miles out and smell it a mile away.’
‘Let it burn like this for a little while, till the men get the chill out. By then it will be completely dark, then let it simmer down a bit.’
‘Anything up above?’
‘Just the old trail. It’s been long years since I’ve been up here, it’s hard to remember.’
‘Tinuva knows it, though.’
Gregory nodded.
‘Something’s really itching him,’ Dennis said.
‘You know who’s following us don’t you?’
‘A whole moredhel army.’
‘It’s Bovai.’
Dennis looked away for a moment. He didn’t want Gregory to sense the dread. Now he understood some of the strangeness in the way Tinuva had been acting, a feeling he had had that somehow the elven warrior was half-walking in another world.
‘If it’s Bovai and he knows who we are,’ Dennis hissed, ‘he’ll come on no matter