To cross that emptiness unobserved would take more luck than a man had any right to ask. Six people and two horses! At the pace they must travel they would be on the Plain for nigh a week – a week without fires or hot food. Waylander scanned the possible trails to the north-east, towards Purdol, the City by the Sea. It was said that a Vagrian fleet had berthed at the harbour mouth, landing an army to besiege the citadel. If that were true – and Waylander thought it likely – then Vagrian outriders would be scouring the countryside for food and supplies. To the north-west was Vagria itself and the citadel of Segril, but from here troops were pouring into the Drenai lands. The Sentran Plain was due north, and beyond it Skultik forest and the mountains said to be the last Drenai stronghold west of Purdol.

But did Egel still hold Skultik?

Could anyone hold together the remnants of a defeated army against the Hounds of Chaos? Waylander doubted it … yet beyond the doubts there was a spark of hope. Egel was the most able Drenai general of the age, unspectacular but sound – a stern disciplinarian, unlike the courtiers King Niallad normally placed in charge of his troops. Egel was a northerner, uncultured and at times uncouth, but a man of charisma and strength. Waylander had seen him once during a parade in Drenan and the man had stood out like a boar amongst gazelle.

Now the boar had gone to ground in Skultik.

Waylander hoped he could hold, at least until he delivered the woman and the children.

If he could deliver them.

Waylander killed a small deer during the afternoon. Hanging the carcass from a nearby tree, he cut prime sections and then carried the meat back to the cave. It was growing dark when he arrived and the priest still slept. Danyal set the fire while Waylander rigged a rough spit to roast the venison. The children sat close to the fire, watching the drops of fat splash into the flames – their stomachs tight, their eyes greedy. Lifting the meat from the spit, Waylander laid it to rest on a flat rock to cool; then he sliced sections for the children and lastly Danyal.

'It is a little tough,' complained the woman.

'The deer saw me just as I loosed the shaft,' said Waylander. 'Its muscles were bunched to run.'

'It tastes good all the same,' she admitted.

'Why is Dardalion still asleep?' asked Miriel, smiling at Waylander and tipping her head to one side so that her long fair hair fell across her face.

'He was very tired,' answered the warrior, 'after his tussle with the man you saw.'

'He cut him into little bits,' said the child.

'Yes, I'm sure he did,' said Danyal. 'But children shouldn't make up stories – especially nasty stories. You'll frighten your sister.'

'We saw him,' said Krylla and Miriel nodded agreement. 'When you were sitting with Dardalion, we closed our eyes and watched. He was all silver and he had a shining sword – he chased the bad man and cut him into little bits. And he was laughing!'

'What can you see when you close your eyes?' asked Waylander.

'Where?' asked Miriel.

'Outside the cave,' said the warrior softly.

Miriel closed her eyes. 'There's nothing out there,' she said, her eyes still closed.

'Go further down the trail, near the big oak. Now what do you see?'

'Nothing. Trees. A little stream. Oh!'

'What is it?' asked Waylander.

'Two wolves. They're jumping by a tree – like they're dancing.'

'Go closer.'

'The wolves will get me,' Miriel protested.

'No, they won't – not with me here. They won't see you. Go closer.'

'They are jumping after a poor little deer that's in the tree; he's hanging there.'

'Good. Come back now, and open your eyes.'

Miriel looked up and yawned. 'I'm tired,' she said.

'Yes,' said Waylander softly. 'But tell me first – like a bedtime story – about Dardalion and the other man.'

'You tell him, Krylla. You're better at telling stories.'

'Well,' said Krylla, leaning forward, 'the nasty man with the arrow in his eye caught hold of Miriel and me. He was hurting us. Then Dardalion came and the man let us go. And a big sword appeared in the man's hand. And we ran away, didn't we, Miriel? We went and slept in your lap, Waylander. And we were safe there. But Dardalion was being cut a lot and he was flying very fast. And we couldn't catch up. But we saw him again, when you and Danyal were holding him. He seemed to grow very tall, and silver armour covered him up, and his robes caught fire and burned away. Then he had a sword and he was laughing. The other man's sword was black –and it broke, didn't it, Miriel?

'Then he fell on his knees and began to weep. And Dardalion cut off his arms and legs and he just disappeared. After that Dardalion laughed even more. Then he disappeared and came home to where his body lives. And we are all right now.'

'Yes, we are all right now,' agreed Waylander. 'I think it is time to sleep now. Are you tired, Culas?' The boy nodded glumly.

'What is wrong, boy?'

'Nothing.'

'Come, tell me.'

'No.'

'He's angry because he cannot fly with us,' said Miriel, giggling.

'No, I'm not,' snapped Culas. 'Anyway, you are making it up.'

'Listen, Culas,' said Waylander, 'I can't fly either and it doesn't worry me. Now let's stop the arguing and sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.' With the children huddled together by the far wall, Danyal moved alongside Waylander.

'Were they speaking the truth, do you think?' she asked.

'Yes, for Miriel saw where I hid the deer.'

'Then Dardalion did kill his enemy?'

'It would appear so.'

'It makes me feel uneasy – I don't know why.'

'It was a spirit of evil. What else would you expect a priest to do? Bless it?'

'Why are you always so unpleasant, Waylander?'

'Because I choose to be.'

'In that case, I don't suppose you have many friends.'

'I don't have any friends.'

'Does that make you lonely?'

'No. It keeps me alive.'

'And what a life it must be for you, full of fun and laughter!' she mocked. 'I'm surprised you're not a poet.'

'Why so angry?' he asked. 'Why should it affect you?'

'Because you are part of our lives. Because for as long as we live, you will remain in our memories. Speaking for myself, I would have preferred another saviour.'

'Yes, I have seen the arena-plays,' said Waylander. 'The hero has golden hair and a white cloak. Well, I am not a hero, woman –I am a man trapped in the priest's web. You think he has been sullied? Well, so have I. The difference is that he needed my darkness to survive. But his Light will destroy me.'

'Will you two never stop rowing?' asked Dardalion, sitting up and stretching his arms.

Danyal ran to his side. 'How do you feel?'

'Ravenous!' He threw aside the blanket and moved to the fire, casually spearing two strips of venison with the spit. Laying it in place, he added fuel to the dwindling blaze.

Waylander said nothing, but sadness settled on him like a dark cloak.