"You' regetting of flightly," he told them in a cold voice. "As I mentioned to Will earlier, I could hang you if I chose to."

Bart and Carney instantly went quiet, then Gilan gestured for Horace to tie them up again. Meekly, they submitted, and in a few minutes they were back to back again, shivering in the keen wind that circled and dipped around the hills. Gilan considered them for a moment or two.

"Throw a blanket over them," he said reluctantly. "A horse blanket."

Will obliged, grinning. He took care not to use Tug's blanket, but used the one belonging to the sturdy pack pony.

Gilan began to saddle Blaze, speaking to the others over his shoulder. "I'm going to scout around Gwyntaleth. There may be someone there who can shed a little more light on what Morgarath is up to." He looked meaningfully at Will and the apprentice realized that Gilan was saying this to throw the two bandits off. He gave a slight nod.

"I should be back about sunset," Gilan continued loudly. "Try to have something hot waiting for me then."

He swung up into the saddle and beckoned Will closer. Leaning down, he whispered: "Leave those two tied up and head off at sunset. They'll eventually get themselves loose, but then they'll have to retrieve their boots and clothes. They won't go anywhere in these mountains without them. It will give you a day's start over them and that should take you clear."

Will nodded. "I understand. Ride safely, Gilan." The Ranger nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then came to a decision.

"Will," he said quietly. "We're in uncertain times and none of us knows what might be around the corner. It might be a good idea if you told Horace Tug's code word."

Will frowned. The code word was a jealously guarded secret and he was reluctant to let anyone know it, even a trusted comrade like Horace. Seeing his hesitation, Gilan continued.

"You never know what might happen. You could be injured or incapacitated and without the code word, Horace won't be able to make Tug obey him. It's just a precaution," he added. Will saw the sense in the idea and nodded.

"I'll tell him tonight," he said. "Take care, Gilan."

The tall Ranger leaned down and gripped his hand tightly.

"One other thing. You're in command here, and the others will take the lead from you. Don't give them any sign that you're not sure of yourself. Believe in yourself and they'll believe in you too."

He nudged Blaze with his knee and the bay swung around toward the road. Gilan raised a hand in farewell to Horace and Evanlyn and cantered away. The dust of his passage was quickly dispersed by the keening wind.

And then Will felt very small. And very alone.

T HEY RODE AS HARD AS THEY COULD THAT NIGHT, HELD BACK somewhat by the docile pace that was all the pack pony could manage. The rain came back during the night to make them more miserable. But then, an hour before dawn, it cleared, so that the first streaks of light in the east painted the sky a dull pearl color. With the gathering light, Will began to look for a place to make camp.

Horace noticed him looking around. "Why don't we keep going for a couple more hours?" he suggested. "The horses aren't really tired yet."

Will hesitated. They'd seen no sign of anyone else during the night, and certainly no evidence of any Wargals in the area. But he didn't like to go against Gilan's advice. In the past, he'd found that advice given by senior Rangers usually turned out to be worth following. He hesitated, then came to a decision as they rounded the next bend and saw a thicket of shrubs set back about thirty meters from the road. The bushes, while not more than three meters high at their tallest point, offered a thick screen, providing shelter from both the wind and any unfriendly eyes that might chance to come along.

"We'll camp here," Will said, indicating the bushes. "That's the first decent-looking campsite we've passed in hours. Who knows when we'll see another?"

Horace shrugged. He was quite content to let Will make the decisions. He had only been making a suggestion, not trying to usurp the Ranger apprentice's authority in any way. Horace was essentially a simple soul. He reacted well to commands and to other people making decisions. Ride now. Stop here. Fight there. As long as he trusted the person making the decisions, he was happy to abide by them.

And he trusted Will's judgment. He had a hazy idea that Ranger training somehow made people more decisive and intelligent. And of course, in that he was right, to a large degree.

As they dismounted and led their horses through the thick bushes into a clearing beyond, Will gave a small sigh of relief. He was stiffer than he'd realized after a full night in the saddle with only a few brief rests. Several good hours' sleep seemed like a capital idea right now. He helped Evanlyn down from the pack pony-riding on the pack saddle as she had to, it was a little awkward for her to dismount. Then he began unstrapping their packs of food supplies and the rolled canvas length that they used as a weather shelter.

Evanlyn, with barely a word to him, stretched, then walked a few paces away to sit down on a flat rock.

Will, his forehead creased in a frown, tossed one of the food packs onto the sand at her feet.

"You can start getting a meal ready," he said, more abruptly than he'd really intended. He was annoyed that the girl would sit down and make herself comfortable, leaving the work to him and Horace. She glanced down at the pack and flushed angrily.

"I'm not particularly hungry," she told him. Horace started forward from where he was unsaddling his horse.

"I'll do it," he said, keen to avoid any conflict between the other two. But Will held up a hand to stop him.

"No," he said. "I'd like you to rig the shelter. Evanlyn can get the food out."

His eyes locked with hers. They were both angry, but she realized she was in the wrong. She shrugged faintly and reached for the pack. "If it means so much to you," she muttered, then asked: "Is it all right if Horace makes the fire for me? He can do it a lot quicker than

Will considered the idea, screwing up his face thoughtfully. He was reluctant to light a fire while they were still in Celtica. It hardly seemed logical to travel by night to avoid being seen, then light a fire whose smoke might be visible in daylight. Besides, there was another consideration that Gilan had pointed out to him the previous day.

"No fire," he said decisively, and Evanlyn tossed the food pack down sulkily.

"Not cold food again!" she snapped. Will regarded her evenly.

"Not so long ago, you would have happily eaten anything-hot or cold-as long as it was food," he reminded her, and she dropped her eyes from his. "Look," he added, in a more reasoning tone, "Gilan knows more about these things than any of us and he told us to make sure we aren't spotted. All right?"

She muttered something. Horace was watching the two of them, his honest face troubled by the conflict between them. He offered a compromise.

"I could just make a small fire for cooking," he suggested. "If we built it in under these bushes, the smoke should be pretty hard to see by the time it filters through."

"It's not just that," Will explained, slinging their water bags over one shoulder and taking his bow from the saddle scabbard. "The Wargals have an amazingly keen sense of smell. If we did light a fire, the smell of the smoke would hang around for hours after we'd put it out."

Horace nodded, conceding the point. Before anyone could raise any more objections, Will headed toward the jumble of rocks behind the campsite.

"I'm going to scout around," he announced. "I'll see if there's any water in the area. And I'll just make sure we're alone."