thinly-gra.s.sed bank and neighed, rubbing his muzzle on:, Thane's arm.

Stumble whinnied and returned to grazing on the bank, leaving Thane to sit in black brooding silence, feeding the beach wreckage into the roaring fire while he watched the ice slowly thaw. On the twenty-third daylight of silence Ousious paddled out into Swanwater and, beating her wings on the shallow cold muddy water, she slowly rose up into the air and turned to the gra.s.slands. Thane saddled Stumble and quickly mounted him to follow the swans, cantering around the far edge of the shallow lake. Wading through deep, sticky mud they climbed on to the far bank that led to the desolate gra.s.slands. Waiting for Ousious to grow strong on the banks of Swanwater had left Thane weak from the bitter cold and'

the lack of whole nourishing food and he slipped into a dizzy exhausted half sleep in the saddle as Stumble carried him forwards. Driving rain brought him back to his senses long after darkness had fallen. The horse had halted inside a thinly clump of brambles where sharp thorns cut through his ragged shirt and breeches. Dismounting carefully he spread his wed

cloak across the top of the lowest bramble bush and crepe 240.

shivering beneath it. Stumble lay down beside him and Thane rested his head on the horse's warm shoulder and quickly fell asleep.

They awoke, stiff and aching, to a cold wet drizzle that misted the horizon and clung to the grey stalks of winter gra.s.s in long glistening drops. Stumble lifted his head, sniffed at

the morning damp air and flattened his ears against the side of his head.

'What is it?' Thane whispered, peering cautiously through the rain-soaked tangle of brambles. 'Nigh/beasts!' he hissed, crouching back against the ground. 'Nightbeasts are all around us!'

The dull tramp of clawed feet and the harsh rattle of foul armour drew closer and closer. Thane unsheathed his dagger and looked desperately for a gap between the Nightbeasts. 'If they discover us we must try and dodge between them. They are almost blind in the daylight and attack by following sounds.'

Stumble snorted, arching his neck and accidentally caught his mane in the thorns. By pulling back and violently shaking the thicket he broke free. Thane gripped the sharp thorns in his hands and stilled the bush but it was too late, the nearest Nightbeast had turned at the sound, his spear blade raised to strike. Roaring he took a step closer. Thane shrank back, waiting for the spear blade to cut through the brambles and peered past the advancing Nightbeast into the drifting drizzle mist.

'We must run,' he hissed, slipping his leg over the saddle and getting ready to spring forwards.

Suddenly two fleeting shapes flanked by huge Border Runners broke through the mist. Arrows sang in the air and the nearest Nightbeast screamed, driving his blade harmlessly into the ground as he collapsed. Roaring and screaming, the ma.s.s of Nightbeasts swarmed after the two shadowy figures as

they melted back into the mist. Thane laughed and quickly dismounted, putting his ear to the damp earth. Faint hoof

aagainst the weather.

'We are lost,' he muttered, blinking the water out of his eyes as he searched the low dark sky for the swans. Turning in the saddle, Thane saw dark shapes breast the horizon and start crossing towards them. 'The Nightbeasts are everywhere!' he cried, pulling at the reins with numb fingers t o turn the horse and find a place to hide.

Stumble stretched his neck and cantered for league after league through the long gra.s.s until ahead of them the gra.s.slands broke into low tree-crested ridges of barren earth.

Between the first two ridges Thane found a narrow reedfilled gully. Dismounting he led Stumble in amongst the reeds to hide but the ground quickly became marshy and too soft for the horse to go anywhere; he was sinking into the mud. Retreating a few strides Thane commanded him to wait. Unsheathing his dagger he began to cut armfuls of reeds and laid them in a crisscross pattern where the oozing mud was, firmest, in the centre of the gully. Taking the last bundle of cut reeds he wove them, just as he had seen his mother weave rush mats, threading and pulling each reed until it was bound tightly to the next.

Walking back across the mat he took the reins over Stumble's head and led him forwards.

The mat swayed with each reluctant footstep and blaclC mud oozed up between the reeds, but it held their weight: 'Lie down!'

Thane hissed, touching Stumble's knee with al cold muddy hand. Clearly he could hear the tramp of mailed feet and the rattle of armour above the noise of the pouring rain and the wind moaning through the tall reed stems

beats made the ground tremble, taking the Nightbeasts away from the bramble thicket in a wide circle. Leaping to his feet, he urged Stumble out of the brambles into the wet gra.s.s. ;*

'Run, Stumble, run!' he cried, jumping into the saddle and fuming the horse away from the Nightbeast screams into the long gra.s.s, and he did not rest or ease the pace until well after noon. The drizzle worsened into heavy rain and Thane hunched his shoulders and fumed his soaking cloak collar up

Crawling back to the edge of the mat he pushed their path a cut reeds aside, forcing it beneath the treacherous mud.

'Lie down or the Nightbeasts will see you. They are to'

heavy to follow us into this marsh and will pa.s.s us if we art hidden; lie down.'

,~ Stumble nickered softly and trembled with fear but he teen

his forelegs. Thane pushed firmly on the cantle of the saddle and the horse sank down on to the mat. Cold black muc bubbled up along his side and he snorted, struggling agains Thane's hand to stand. The whites of his eyes were wide with panic.

'Steady, Stumble,' he whispered, caressing the horse's shoulder. 'The mat takes our weight.' Stumble shifted his head and rubbed his muzzle on Thane's amm. 'The Nightbeasts are near us now,' Thane whispered. 'We must lie still until they have gone.'

Stumble slowly lowered his head until his chin was resting in the cold black mud and Thane spread the dirty cloak across them both. He laid his head wearily on Stumble's shoulder and fought off the waves of sleep that were pulling at his eyelids.

Reaching back into his pocket he pulled out the little silver finger bowl that the Nightmare had famished and spoiled, and brought it to his lips.

'I will find you, Elionbel, I will never give up,' he whispered, tracing her name with a dirty cracked fingernail along the rim of the cup.

The rain had eased with the coming of evening but now as darkness fell it became a roaring torrent that pattered on the cloak and drummed on the mat of reeds. Thane moved as close to Stumble as he could, feeling the layer of sticky mud pull at his rough shirt as he fell asleep.

243.

Sharp Eyes in the Gra.s.slands

Hunger and pain blurred together and the noise of the rain on the reeds drowned out the noise of men and horses crossing the low ridges on the heels of the Nightbeasts. 'There is no danger here,' Tombel had shouted. 'I can smell the Nightbeasts on the evening wind and they have gone before us into the gra.s.slands.'

Gathering his Captains he had warned them to cross well clear of the marsh gullies, using only the high ground. 'Lord, Lord,' a Marcher on the edge of the great crescent of warriors had shouted just before nightfall, 'there are two riders approaching. One rides on a mighty stag, before them two

Border Runners search the ground.' .

Tombel had halted the crescent half a league beyond the first earth ridge and set the Marchers and Gallopers int o battle order, taking the centre of the field as his own while he .

w ited for the riders. Wiping the trickles of rain water out of his eyes he laughed and threw his Marching sword high into the dark night air.

'Kyot, Kyot,'he cried, running forwards as the Archer rode into the circle of their torchlight, but frowning he turned his eyes on Eventine, quickly took off his metal helm and bowed.

'Are you the Lady of Clatterford?' he whispered, offering he r the hilt of his Marching sword.

Smiling, Eventine jumped to the ground and lightIy touched Tombel's hand. 'Great is the legend of the Lord of Marchers,' she said, 'for he hunts Night

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beasts in all Elundium without rest.'

'Greater still is the legend of the fair Lady of Clatterford, who has tamed the Lord of Stags as her mount,' he replied, sheathing his sword.

Eventine laughed, putting her hand through Tanglecrown's huge set of crystal-tipped antlers on to his velvet forehead.

'He is free, my Lord, and serves no master or mistress; we hunt the Nightbeasts together, side by side.'

Tombel smiled, stepping forwards. 'We run on their heels, Lady, night and day, without rest. They are before us now.'

Kyot frowned. 'You say they are before you?'

Tombel nodded, pointing past Kyot's shoulder into the darkness.