'It is so much larger. So much . . . different!' Willow fell silent, remembering the Elder's stories; remembering how the old man would take the tiny point of light and carefully

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build the picture of a tree, branch by branch, leaf by leaf. His large, round eyes blinking, he gazed across the forest of trees that grew along the Greenway'sedge and sighed; each one was so different in all its tiny details, and yet they were so much the same. He frowned, looking up at Tombel. 'How many trees are there in Elundium?'

Tombel laughed, 'They are all individual, Willow, because each one grows alone and wind and weather touch them differendy. They are beyond counting.'

Willow frowned, shading his eyes and pointing out beyond the trees. 'There is a column of dust, my Lord, rising out of that dark valley beyond the road that we used. What can that be?'

'That is the direction of Notley Marsh,' Tombel muttered darkly, drawing out his sword and calling the Marchers into battle order.

'Gallopers are on the road from the Marshes!' cried out a watchman from the tower platform. Tombel relaxed and waited easily between the doors as long columns of Gallopers rode into view.

'Nightbeasts have used the Marsh Road,' Thoron cried, dismounting stiffly from Equestrius' saddle and grasping Tombel's arm in greeting.

'Equestrius!' willow shouted, running forward and throwing his arms around the great Warhorse's neck.

Thoron laughed, 'Guard him well, young warrior, for we ride a hard and dangerous road on the Nightbeast's heels.'

Willow looked up at the proud lines of Warhorses that had halted behind Equestrius before turning back towards Thoron. 'You have bridled him and put a saddle on his back,'

Willow cried. 'I thought the Lord of Horses ran free with no man as his master!'

Thoron smiled, stretching stiffly, 'No man will ever be master of Equestrius, his freedom is beyond question. We hunt the Nightbeasts together as friends; he wears Esteron's saddle and bridle to help an old man on a hard road. We

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found the tack in the hut of thorns beside a broken spear shaft. Thane must have fought a great battle there and littered the Greenway with many slain Nightbeasts before he escaped.

We followed the Nightbeasts' footprints through the marshes; they were close on Thane's heels.'

'How can you be sure he did escape them?' Willow asked.

Thoron reached up and unclipped a battered and dirty helm from the pommel of the saddle. 'I found this helm beside the road in the marshes.'

'Thane reached this Wayhouse!' Tombel interrupted, nodding in the direction of a huge bonfire that crackled in the evening air. 'Those are the Nightbeasts that he slaughtered defending Archer in the last moments of the Keeper's life.'

'Archer dead?' Thoron cried, seeing for the first time the grave niche beside the broken doors. 'How so?'

'Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts,' Tombel replied, honing the edge of his sword with a sharp stone attached to his belt.

'Which road did he take?'

Tombel silently pointed with the stone across the gra.s.slands towards Woodsedge.

'Hors.e.m.e.n! We ride before the sun sets!' cried Thoron, summoning Errant to his side. He hurried to kneel before the grave niche. 'We will make the Nightmare pay dear, friend,'

he whispered. 'All those that love the morning light and soft shadows at noon will gather. You have my word!' Reaching forward he tipped a trickle of oil on to Archer's bow and then stood.

'Errant,' he said quietly, taking him amongst the spelled horses, 'will you turn north through the far edge of the black forest? I fear we run on too tight a road and may miss the Nightmare in our headlong dash for Granite City.'

Errant lifted his head and called for Dawnrise in a loud voice above the clatter of hooves and jingling of harness along the horse lines. The first stallion of Underfall came forwards, snorting, his steelsilver battle coat glittering in the evening

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light. Catching the reins Errant asked, 'Will you run for me again on a darker wilder road than the one that leads to the gates of the Granite City? Will you take me out to the wildlands beyond the black forest?' Dawnrise stamped his

hoof and snorted and waited for Errant to mount.

'I will take the Nighthorses of Underfall, for they were bred on the dark side of morning and gathered from all the wilder places. Thunderstone has readied them for such a gallop,'

Errant cried, calling all the Nighthorses and their riders into neat columns. 'We ride beyond the Elundium of legends into wild lands where Nightbeasts crouch in every dark shadow!'

Quickly he reached down and gripped Thoron's hand. 'To a safe King and a land without Nightbeasts!'

Equestrius reared up, neighing fiercely and called forward half of the Warhorses that had travelled with Thoron through Notley Marsh. 'The bonds were broken,' he snorted to the old warrior, 'but the Warhorses will follow Errant to fight for the sunlight.'

Eagle Owl flexed his talons and hooted, rising up from Thoron's shoulder into the evening sky. 'Battle Owls,' he shrieked in piercing notes, calling all the owls that had survived the battle before the Gates of Night into a stoop that darkened the sky. 'Fly with the warriors of Underfall and search out the way, be their eyes on the dark road ahead.'

Wild barking broke out along the Greenway's edge as huge Border Runners bounded on to the road. Grannog, Lord of Dogs, crossed the Greenway to sit at Thoron's feet, yawned lazily, then licked his ancient hands.

'You will not be alone,' cried Thoron, against the thunder of hoolbeats, as Errant led the horses across the Greenway and out into the gra.s.slands beyond. Grannog growled softly and rose, wagging his tail, and led the Border Runners into the gra.s.slands, fanning them out on either side of the columns of horses. Stoop by stoop the owls flew ahead, searching out the way.

'We will meet again in better daylights,' cried Thoron,

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turning back into the Tower of Stumble Hill.

Tombel frowned, doubting Thoron's counsel as he marshalled the Marchers into readiness for the long night's journey ahead. Thoron sighed, taking Tombel's hand, 'There was a time long ago when each of us trusted the other's second sight, and knew that wisdom tempered each move.'

To*'bel looked steadily into Thoron's eyes. 'I fear for