"Good shot," Kurik said.

"Not too bad," the archer said modestly.

"Do you think anyone heard him yell?" Sparhawk asked Tel.

That depends on how close they are. They probably won't know what it meant, but a few of them might ride down here to investigate."

"Let them," the man with the bow said grimly.

"We'd better go a little slowly along here," Tel advised.

"It wouldn't do to go around a corner and come face to face with them."

"You're very good at this, Tel," Sparhawk said.

"Practice, Sparhawk, and I know the ground. I lived up here for more than five years. That's why Stragen sent me instead of anybody else. You'd better let me have a look around that bend in the road just ahead." He slipped down off his horse and took his pike. He ran ahead at a crouch, and just before he reached the bend, he eased his way into the bushes and disappeared. A moment later he reappeared and made a few obscure gestures.

"Three of them," the man with the bow translated in a muted voice. "They're coming at a trot." He set an arrow to his bowstring and raised the bow.

Sparhawk drew his sword. "Guard Sephrenia," he told Kurik.

The first man around the bend toppled out of his saddle with an arrow in his throat. Sparhawk shook his reins and Faran charged.

"The two other men were staring at their fallen companion in blank amazement. Sparhawk cut one of them out of the saddle, and the other turned to flee. Tel, however, stepped out of the bushes and drove his pike at an angle up into the man's body. The man gave a gurgling groan and fell from his horse.

"Get the horses!" Tel barked to his men. "Don't let them get back to where the other brigands are hiding!"

His men galloped after the fleeing horses and brought them back a few minutes later.

"A nice piece of work," Tel said, pulling his pike free of the body lying in the road. "No yelling, and none of them got away." He rolled the body over with his foot. "I know this one," he said. "Those other two must be new. The life expectancy of a highway robber isn't really very good, so Dorga has to find new recruits every so often."

"Dorga?" Sparhawk asked, dismounting.

"He's the chief of this band. I never really cared for him very much. He's a little too self-important."

"Let's drag these into the bushes," Sparhawk said. "I'd rather not have the little girl see them."

"All right."

After the bodies had been concealed, Sparhawk stepped back around the bend and signalled to Sephrenia and Kurik to come on ahead.

They rode on carefully.

"This may be much easier than I'd thought," Tel said. "I think they're splitting up into very small groups so they can watch more of the road. We should go into the woods a ways on the left side of the road just ahead. There's a rock-slide coming down on the right side, and Dorga usually has a few archers there. Once we get past them, I'll send a few men around behind them to deal with them."

"Is that really necessary?" Sephrenia asked.

"I'm just following Sir Sparhawk's advice, lady," Tel said. "Don't leave live enemies behind you - particularly not ones armed with bows. I don't really need an arrow in my back, and neither do you."

They rode into the woods before they reached the rock-slide and continued at a very careful walk. One of Tel's men crept out to the edge of the trees and rejoined them a few minutes later. "Two of them," he reported quietly. "They're about fifty Paces up the slide."

"Take a couple of men," Tel instructed. "There's cover about two hundred paces up ahead. You'll be able to get across the road there. Work your way up along the edge of the slide and get behind them. Try not to let them make any noise."

The stubble-faced blond cut-throat grinned, signalled to two of his companions and rode on ahead.

"I'd forgotten how much fun this is," Tel said, " - at least in good weather. It's miserable in the winter, though."

They had ridden perhaps half a mile past the slide when the three ruffians caught up with them.

"Any problems?" Tel asked.

"They were half-asleep," one of the men chuckled. "They're all the way asleep now."

"Good." Tel looked around. "We can gallop for a ways now, Sparhawk. The roadsides are too open for ambushes for the next few miles."

They galloped on until almost noon, when they reached the crest of the ridge where Tel signalled for a halt. The next part might be tricky," he told Sparhawk. The road runs down a ravine, and there's no way for us to work our way around it from this "end. The place is one of Dorga's favourites, so he's likely to have quite a few men there. I'd say that the best thing for us to do is to go through it at a dead run. An archer has a little trouble shooting downhill at moving targets - at least I always did."

"How far is it until we come out of the ravine?"

"About a mile."

"And we'll be in plain sight all the way?"

"More or less, yes."

"We don't have much choice, though, do we?"

"Not unless you want to wait until after dark, and that would make the rest of the road to Heid twice as dangerous."

"All right," Sparhawk decided. "You know the country, so you lead the way." He unhooked his shield from his saddle-horn and strapped it on his arm. "Sephrenia, you ride right beside me. I can cover you and Flute with the shield. Lead on, Tel."

Their plunging run down the ravine took the concealed brigands by surprise. Sparhawk heard a few startled shouts from the top of the ravine, and a single arrow fell far behind them.

"Spread out!" Tel shouted. "Don't ride all clustered together!"

They plunged on. More arrows came whizzing down into the ravine, dropping among them now. One arrow shattered on the shield which Sparhawk was holding protectively over Sephrenia and Flute. He heard a muffled cry and glanced back. One of Tel's men was swaying in his saddle, his eyes filled with pain. Then he slumped over and fell to the ground.

"Keep going." Tel ordered. "We're almost clear now!"

The road ahead came out of the ravine, passed through a stretch of trees and then curved along the side of a cliff that dropped steeply down into a gorge.

A few more arrows arched down from the top of the ravine, but they were falling far behind now.

They galloped through the stretch of trees and on out along the side of the cliff. "Keep going." Tel commanded again. "Let them think we're going to run all the way through here."

They galloped on along the face of the cliff. Then the wide ledge upon which the road was built bent sharply inward to the point where the cliff-face ended and the road ran steeply down into the forest again. Tel reined in his panting horse. "This looks like a good place," he said.

The road narrows a little way back there, so they'll only be able to come at us a couple at a time."

"You really think they'll try to follow us?" Kurik asked.

"I know Dorga. He may not know exactly who we are, but he definitely doesn't want us to get to the authorities in Heid. Dorga's very nervous about the notion of having large groups of the sheriff's men sweeping through these mountains. They have a very stout gallows in Heid."

"Is that forest down there safe?" Sparhawk asked, pointing down the road.

Tel nodded. The brush is too thick to make ambushes feasible. That ravine was the last stretch that's really dangerous on this side of the mountains."

"Sephrenia," Sparhawk said, "ride on down there. Kurik, you go with her."

Kurik's face showed that he was about to protest, but he said nothing. He led Sephrenia and the children on down the road towards the safety of the forest.

"They'll come fast," Tel said. "We went past them at a dead run, and they'll be trying to catch up." He looked at the ruffian with the longbow. "How fast can you shoot that thing?" he asked.

"I can have three arrows in the air at the same time," the fellow shrugged.

"Try for four. It doesn't matter if you hit the horses. They'll fall off the edge of the cliff and take their riders with them. Get as many as you can, and then the rest of us will charge. Does that sound all right, Sparhawk?"

"It's workable," Sparhawk agreed. He shifted the shield on his left arm and then drew his sword.

Then they heard the clatter of horses' hooves coming fast along the rocky ledge on the other side of the sharp curve. Tel's archer climbed down from his horse and hung his quiver of arrows on a stunted tree at the roadside where they would be close at hand. "These are going to cost you a quarter-crown apiece, Tel," he said calmly, drawing an arrow from the quiver and setting it to his bowstring. "Good arrows are expensive."

"Take your bill to Stragen," Tel suggested.

"Stragen pays very slowly. I'd rather collect from you and let you argue with him."

"All right." Tel's tone was slightly sulky.

"Here they come," one of the other cut-throats said without any particular excitement.

The first two brigands to come around the curve probably didn't even see them. Tel's laconic archer was at least as good as he had claimed to be. The two men fell from their saddles, one at the side of the road and the other vanishing into the gorge. Their horses ran on a few yards and then pulled up when they saw Tel's mounted men blocking the road.

The archer missed one of the next pair that came around the sharp curve. "He ducked," he said. "Let's see him try to get out of the way of this one." He pulled his bow and shot again, and his arrow took the fellow in the forehead. The man tumbled over backwards and lay in the road kicking.

Then the brigands came around the curve in a cluster.

The archer loosed several arrows into their midst. "You'd better go now, Tel," he said. "They're coming on a little too fast."

"Let's ride!" Tel shouted, settling his Pike under his arm in a manner curiously reminiscent of that used by armoured knights. Tel's men had a peculiar assortment of weapons, but they handled them in a professional manner.

Because Faran was by far the strongest and fastest horse they had, Sparhawk outdistanced the others in the fifty-pace intervening stretch of road. He crashed into the centre of the startled group of men, swinging his sword to the right and left in broad overhand strokes. The men he was attacking wore no mail to protect them, and so Sparhawk's blade bit deep into them. A couple of them feebly tried to hold rusty swords up to ward off his ruthless blows, but Sparhawk was a trained swordsman who could alter his point of aim even in mid-swing, and the two fell howling into the road, clutching at the stumps of missing right hands.

A red-bearded man had been riding at the pack of ambushers. He turned to flee, but Tel plunged past Sparhawk, his blond hair flying, his pike lowered, and the two disappeared around the curve.

Tel's men followed along behind Sparhawk, cleaning up with brutal efficiency.

Sparhawk trotted Faran around the curve. Tel, it appeared, had picked the red-bearded man out of the saddle with his pike, and the fellow lay writhing on the road with the pike protruding from his back. Tel dismounted and squatted beside the mortally wounded man. "It didn't turn out so well, did it, Dorga?" he said in an almost friendly tone. "I told you a long time ago that waylaying travellers was a risky business." Then he pulled the pike out of his former chieftain's back and calmly kicked him off the edge of the cliff. Dorga's despairing shriek faded down into the gorge.

"Well," Tel said to Sparhawk, "I guess that takes care of all this. Let's go on down. It's still some distance to Heid.

Tel's men were disposing of the bodies of the dead and wounded ambushers by casually throwing them into the gorge. "It's safe now," Tel told them. "Some of you stay here and round up those people's horses. We ought to be able to get a good price for them. The rest of you, come with us. Coming, Sparhawk?" and he led the way on down the road.

The days seemed to drag on as they moved through the unpopulated mountains of central Thalesia. At one point, Sparhawk reined Faran back to ride beside Sephrenia and Flute. To me it seems as if we've been out here on this road for five days at least," he said to the little girl. "How long has it really been?"

She smiled and raised two fingers.

"You're playing with time again, aren't you?" he accused. "Of course," she said. "You didn't buy me that kitten the way you promised you would, so I have to play with something." He gave up at that point. Nothing in the world is more immutable than the rising and setting of the sun, but Flute seemed able to alter those events at will. Sparhawk had seen Bevier's consternation when she had patiently explained the inexplicable to him. He decided that he did not wish to experience that himself.

It seemed to be several days later - though Sparhawk would not have taken an oath to that effect - when at sunset the flaxen-haired Tel pulled his horse in beside Faran. That smoke down there is coming from the chimneys at Heid," he said. "My men and I'll be turning back here. I believe there's still a price on my head in Heid. It's all a misunderstanding, of course, but explanations are tiresome - particularly when you're standing on a ladder with a noose around your neck."

"Flute," Sparhawk said back over his shoulder, "has Talen done what he came here to do?"

"Yes."

"I rather thought so. Tel, would you do me a favour and take the boy back to Stragen? We'll pick him up on our way back. Tie him very tightly and loop a rope about his ankles and under his horse's belly. Jump him from behind and be careful, he's got a knife in his belt."

"There's a reason, I suppose," Tel said.

Sparhawk nodded. "Where we're going is very dangerous. The boy's father and I would rather not expose him to that."

"And the little girl?"

"She can take care of herself - probably better than any of the rest of us."

"You know something, Sparhawk," Tel said sceptically, "when I was a boy, I always wanted to become a Church Knight. Now I'm glad I didn't. You people don't make any sense at all."

"It's probably all the praying," Sparhawk told him. "It tends to make a man a little vague."

"Good luck, Sparhawk," Tel said shortly. Then he and two of his men roughly jerked Talen from his saddle, disarmed him and tied him on the back of his horse. The names Talen called Sparhawk as he and his captors rode off to the south were wide-ranging and, for the most part, very unflattering.