CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Pursuit
“I hear them,” Stephen whispered in as low a voice as he could manage. “That way.” He thrust his finger east, pointing through the trees.
“I don’t hear anything,” the holter said.
“Shh. If I can hear them, they may be able to hear us. The faneway blessed my senses, and some of them have marched the same fanes.”
Aspar just nodded and laid his finger to his lip in a gesture of silence.
After a time, the sounds of horses and riders receded.
“They’re out of earshot,” Stephen told the holter, when he was sure.
“They took the false trail, then. Good.” The holter stood. His face was still strained and pale, and he moved as if his limbs were half-severed.
“You need rest, and attention,” Stephen said.
“Sceat. I’ll live. I’m feeling better.”
Stephen was dubious, but didn’t argue. “What now?” he asked instead.
“Tell me exactly what you heard them say.”
Stephen repeated the conversation as he’d heard it. When he came to the part about Fend, the holter stiffened.
“You’re sure. You’re sure they mentioned Fend?”
“Yes. My memory is better now, too.”
“Fend and a bunch of monks, off to kill the queen. What in the Raver’s eye is going on?”
“I wish I knew,” Stephen said.
“Cal Azroth,” Aspar mused. “It’s in Loiyes. It’s where the royals go when they need extraordinary protection. I don’t see how a handful of assassins plan to get in there.”
“They have the greffyn.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Aspar said. “They were following it, yes, and it didn’t attack them, but I don’t think they control it.”
“But the Briar King controls it,” Stephen replied. “And the Briar King seems to be behind all this. And who knows what powers Spendlove has gained from the dark faneways?”
“Yah,” Aspar grunted. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll follow ’em and kill ’em.”
“You’re not in any shape to kill anyone,” Stephen said. “Can’t we contact the king? Get him to send knights?”
“By the time we could do that, they’ll be at Cal Azroth.”
“What about Sir Symen?”
“Too far out of the way.”
“So it’s just us?”
“Yah.”
Stephen took a deep breath. “Well, then. I guess we’ll do that.” He cast a glance at the holter. “Thank you, by the way.”
“What for? Was you saved my hide. Again.”
“For believing me. Trusting me. If you’d paused to question—”
“Listen,” the holter said. “You’re green and naÏve and annoying, but you’re not a liar, and ifyou see danger, it must be pretty damned obvious.”
“I almost didn’t see it in time,” Stephen said.
“But you saw it. Must be those new eyes of yours.”
“I didn’t see it in time to save the fratrex,” Stephen said, feeling the dig of that fact in his belly.
“Yes, well, the fratrex was there longer than you. He should have known, himself,” Aspar said, moving toward Ogre. “Anyway, this is a waste of time, all this back-patting and bemoaning. Let’s pick up their trail before it cools.”
Stephen nodded, and they mounted and set out. Around them, the forest sang of death coming.