"We ran into a small party of Celts escaping to the south," the girl said. "They told us how the Wargals managed it. They used ropes and scaling ladders and came down the cliffs by night, in small numbers. They found a few narrow ledges, then used the scaling ladders to cross the Fissure.

"They picked the most remote spot they could find, so they went undetected. During the day, those already across the Fissure hid among the rocks and valleys until they had the entire force assembled. They wouldn't have needed many. King Swyddned didn't keep a large standing army."

Gilan made a disapproving sound and caught Will's eye.

"He should have. The treaty obliged him to. But remember what we said about people growing complacent? Celts would rather dig in their ground than defend it." He gestured for the girl to continue.

"The Wargals overran the townships and mines-the mines in particular. For some reason, they wanted the miners alive. Anyone else, they killed-if they didn't get away in time."

Gilan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Pordellath and Gwyntaleth are both totally deserted," he said. "Any idea where the people have gone?"

"If they're alive, they've gone south," she told him. "The Wargals seem to be driving them that way."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Gilan commented. "Keeping them bottled up in the south would prevent word getting out to Araluen."

"That's what the captain of our escort said," Evanlyn agreed. "King Swyddned and most of his surviving army retreated to the southwest coast to form a defensive line. Any Celts who managed to get away from the Wargals have joined him there."

"And what about you?" Gilan wanted to know.

"We were trying to escape back to the border when we were cut off by a war party," she told them. "Our men held them off while my lady and I escaped. We were almost clear, but her horse stumbled and they caught her. I wanted to go back for her, but she screamed at me to get away. I couldn't:I wanted to help her but:I just:"

Tears began to cascade down her cheeks once more. She didn't seem to notice, making no attempt to wipe them away, just staring silently into the fire as the horror of it all came back to her. When she spoke once more, her voice was almost inaudible.

"I got clear and I turned back to watch. They were:they were:I could see them:" Her voice died away. Gilan reached forward and took her hand.

"Don't think about it," he said gently and she looked up at him, gratitude in her eyes. "I take it that after:that:you got away into the hills?"

She nodded several times, her thoughts still vivid with the terrible scenes she had witnessed. Will and Horace sat in silence. Will glanced at his friend and a look of understanding passed between them. Evanlyn had been lucky to escape.

"I've been hiding ever since," she said quietly. "My horse went lame about ten days back and I turned him loose. Since then, I've kept moving back toward the north by night and hiding by day." She indicated Bart and Carney, sitting trussed like two captive chickens on the far side of the clearing. "I saw those two a few times, and others like them. I didn't make myself known to them. I didn't think I could trust them."

Carney assumed a hurt look. Bart was still too dizzy from the crack Horace had given him with the flat of his sword to be taking any interest in the proceedings.

"Then I saw you three earlier today from across a valley and I recognized you as King's Rangers-well, two of you, anyway," she amended. "All I could think was 'Thank God.'"

Gilan looked up at her at that, a small frown of concentration creasing his forehead. She didn't notice the reaction as she went on.

"It took me most of the day to reach you. It wasn't far as the crow flies, but there was no way across the valley that separated us. I had to go the long way around. Then down and up again. I was terrified that you'd be gone by the time I got here. But luckily, you weren't," she added, unnecessarily.

Will was leaning forward, elbow on his knee and hand propped under his chin, trying to piece together all she'd told them.

"Why would Morgarath want miners?" he asked of nobody in particular. "He doesn't have mines, so it doesn't make sense."

"Maybe he's found some?" Horace suggested. "Maybe he's found gold up there in the Mountains of Rain and Night and he needs slaves to dig it out."

Gilan gnawed thoughtfully at a thumbnail as he considered what Horace had said. "That could be," he said at last. "He's going to need gold to pay off the Skandians. Maybe he's mining his own."

Evanlyn had sat up a little straighter at the mention of the sea wolves.

"Skandians?" she asked. "Are they in league with Morgarath now?"

Gilan nodded. "They've got something cooking," he told her. "The entire kingdom's on alert. We were bringing dispatches to King Swyddned from Duncan."

"You'll have to go southwest to find him," Evanlyn replied. Will noticed that she had started a little at the mention of King Duncan's name. "But I doubt he'll leave his defensive positions there."

Gilan was already shaking his head. "I think this is more important than taking dispatches to Swyddned. After all, the main thrust of them was to tell him that Morgarath was on the move. I guess he knows that by now."

He stood up, stretching and yawning. It was already full dark.

"I suggest we get a good night's sleep," he said, "and start back north in the morning. I'll take first watch, so you can keep my cloak, Evanlyn. I'll take Will's when he relieves me."

"Thank you," Evanlyn said simply, and all three of them knew she was talking about more than just the use of the cloak. Will and Horace moved to douse the fire as Gilan took his longbow and moved to a rock outcrop that gave him a good view of the track leading to and from their campsite.

As Will was helping Evanlyn arrange a sleeping spot, he heard Carney's whining voice once more.

"Sir, please, could you loosen these ropes a little for the night? They're awful tight, like."

And he heard Gilan's uncaring "Of course not" as he climbed up onto the rocks to take the first watch.

T HE FOLLOWING MORNING, OF COURSE, THEY WERE FACED with the problem of what to do with Bart and Carney. The two bandits had spent a supremely uncomfortable night, tied back to back and so forced to sit upright on the stony ground. Several times during the night, Gilan had loosened their bonds for a few minutes to give their cramped muscles a brief respite. He even eventually relented and allowed them a small amount of the party's food and water. But it was still a very unpleasant experience for them, made even more so because they had no idea what he planned to do with them in the morning.

And, truth be told, neither did Gilan. He had no wish to take them along as prisoners. As it was, they had only four horses, counting the pack horse that had been carrying their camping supplies and would now have to carry Evanlyn as well. He felt that the news of Morgarath's puzzling foray into Celtica should be taken back to King Duncan as soon as possible, and dragging two prisoners along on foot would slow them down immeasurably. In addition, he was already considering the idea that he might push on ahead at top speed, allowing the other three to follow at their own pace. He knew the clumsy pack pony would never keep up with Blaze's mile-eating lope.

So, faced with these two problems, he frowned to himself as he ate breakfast, allowing himself the luxury of a second cup of coffee from their dwindling supply. After all, he thought, if he did go on ahead, it was the last coffee he'd see for some days. After a while he glanced up, caught Will's eye and beckoned him over.

"I'm thinking of pushing on ahead," he said quietly. Instantly he saw the look of alarm in Will's eyes.