A bi-annual hunt had eliminated the drakken from the lands around Ashwell, but here in the wild they were prevalent.

Watching for them heightened Edeard's senses as they passed through the endless undulating countryside. On the third day out of Witham they reached the fringes of the foothills and entered one of the massive forests there, parts of which reached across to the base of the Sardoks themselves.

Edeard had never been in a forest this size before; according to Melzar it predated the arrival of humans on Querencia two thousand years ago. The sheer size of the trees seemed to back up his claim, tall and tightly clustered, their trunks dark and lifeless for the first fifty feet until they burst into a thick interlaced canopy where branches and leaves struggled against each other for light. Little grew on the floor beneath, and in summer when the leaves were in full bloom not much rain dripped through either. A huge blanket of dead, crisped leaves covered the ground, hiding hollows from sight, requiring the humans to use their farsight in order to guide the ge-horses safely round crevices and snags.

It was quiet in the gloom underneath the verdant living awning, the still air amplifying their mildest whisper to a shout that reverberated the length of the plodding caravan. The apprentices slowly abandoned their banter, becoming silent and nervy.

'We'll make camp in a valley I know, Melzar announced after midday. 'It's an hour away, and the forest isn't as wretched as it is here. There's a river as well. We're well past the trilan egg season so we can swim.

'We're stopping there? Genril asked. 'Isn't that early?

'Don't get your hopes up, my lad. This afternoon you're going galby hunting.

The apprentices immediately brightened. They'd been promised hunting experience, but hadn't expected it to be galbys, which were large canine equivalents. Edeard had often heard experienced adults tell of how they thought they'd got a galby cornered only to have it jump to freedom. Their hind limb was oversized and extremely powerful, sometimes propelling them as much as fifteen feet in the air.

True to Melzar's word, the forest began to change as they reached a gentle downhill slope. The trees were spread out, and shorter, allowing pillars of sunlight to swarm down. Grass grew again, swiftly becoming an unbroken stratum. Bushes grew in the long gaps between trees, their leaves ranging from vivid green to a dark amethyst. Edeard couldn't name more than a handful of the berries he could see, there must have been dozens of varieties.

As the light and humidity increased, so the yiflies and bite-wings began to appear; soon they were swirling overhead in huge clumps before zooming down to nip all the available human skin. Edeard was constantly using his third hand to ward them off.

They stopped the carts by a small river, and corralled the genistars. That was when Melzar finally distributed the five revolvers and two rifles he'd been carrying. The majority belonged to the village, though Genril had his own revolver, which he said had been in his family since the arrival. Its barrel was longer than the others, and made out of a whitish metal that was a lot lighter than the sturdy gun-grade steel produced by the Weapons Guild in Makkathran.

'Carved from the ship itself, Genril said proudly as he checked the mechanism. Even that snicked and whirred with a smoothness which the city-made pistols lacked. 'My first ancestor salvaged some of the hull before the tides took the ship down into the belly of the sea. It's been in our family ever since.

'Crap, Obron snorted. 'That would mean it's over two thousand years old.

'So? Genril challenged as he squeezed some oil out of a small can, rubbing it on to the components with a soft linen cloth. 'The ship builders knew how to make really strong metal. Think about it, you morons, they had to have strong metal, the ship fell out of the sky and still survived, and in the universe they came from ships flew between planets.

Edeard didn't say anything. He'd always been sceptical about the whole ship legend. Though he had to admit, it was a great legend.

Melzar slung one of the rifles over his shoulder and came round with a box of ammunition. He handed out six of the brass bullets to each of the apprentices who had been given a revolver. 'That's quite enough, he told them when there were complaints about needing more. 'If you can't hit a galby after six shots, it's either jumped back out of range or it's happily eating your liver. Either way, that's all you get.

Only five apprentices had been given a gun (including Genril). Edeard wasn't one of them. He looked on rather enviously as they slid the bullets into the revolving chamber.

Melzar crouched down, and began to draw lines in the earth. 'Gather round, he told them. 'We're going to split into two groups. The shooters will be lined up along the ridge back there. His hand waved into the forest where the land rose sharply. 'The rest of us will act as the flushers. We form a long line with one end there, which will move forward in a big curve until we're level with the first shooter. That should force anything bigger than a drakken out in front of us, and hopefully into the firing line. Under no circumstances does anyone go past the first shooter. I don't care if you're best friends and using longtalk, you do not walk in front of the guns. Understood?

'Yes sir, they all chorused.

'Okay then, after the first sweep we'll change over the guns and move to a new location. He glanced up at the sky which was now starting to cloud over. 'There'll be enough light to do this three times this afternoon, which will give everyone a chance to use a pistol.

'Sir, my father said only I can use our pistol, Genril said.

'I know, Melzar said. 'You get to hang on to it but not the ammunition when you're in the fiusher line. Now: if you're a part of the fiusher line, you must keep within farsight perception of the people on either side. So in reality that means I want you spaced no more than seventy yards apart. Orders to start, stop, and group together will be issued vocally and in longtalk. You will relay both along the line. You will obey them at all times. The fiusher line will use three ge-wolves to help encourage the galbys to run. This time, Edeard and Alcie will control one each,

I will take the third. No one else is to order them, I don't want them confused. Any questions? No. Good. Let's go, and the Lady smile on us.

Edeard called one of the ge-wolves over, and set off in the group following Melzar. Toran, one of the farmers, led the pistol carriers up towards the stony ridge.

'I don't see the point of this, Fahin complained grimly as he hiked along beside Edeard. 'We've all done pistol shooting at the targets outside the walls, and galbys aren't eatable.

'Don't you listen to anything? Janene said. 'This is all about experience. There's a world of difference between firing at a target and being out here in the woods with dangerous animals charging round. The elder council needs to know they can rely on us to defend the village in an emergency.

Except Melzar told us the nomad families aren't threatening, Edeard thought. So what is the village wall actually for? I must ask Akeem when I get back.

'So what if the galbys don't go towards the shooting line? Fahin asked. 'What if they come at us? He gripped his satchel tighter, as if it could shield him from the forest's animals.

'They won't, Edeard said. 'They'll try and avoid us, because we're a group.

'Yeah, in theory, Fahin grumbled.

'Quit whinging, for the Lady's sake, Obron said. 'Melzar knows what he's doing; he's done this with every caravan for the last fifty years. Besides, galbys aren't all that dangerous. They just look bad. If one comes at you, use your third hand to shield yourself.