'Hibernian shepherds make it,' Halt told him. 'It tastes fine when it's hot from the fire like this. When it cools down it's pretty plain. It's called damper.'
'Why's that?' Horace asked.
Halt shrugged. 'Probably because it's damper than proper bread,' he said and that seemed to satisfy Horace. After all, he didn't really care what it was called, so long as he had plenty of it to soak up the delicious juices of the stew.
After they had eaten, they gathered together, huddling over Halt's map.
'Tennyson and his people were heading this way,' Halt said, tracing a path south of south-east. 'We're currently heading due east to the point where we left them to go after the Scotti. I think we should try to make up lost ground and assume they'll continue the way they've been going. If we cut the corner and head this way,' he indicated a south-easterly direction that would intersect the Outsider's trail at an angle, 'we should cross their trail tomorrow around the middle of the day.'
'Unless they change direction,' Will said.
'That's a risk, of course, but I don't see why they should. They have no idea we're tailing them. There's no reason why they shouldn't head directly for their end destination. But if they have, we'll just have to go back to the point where we first left their trail and track them from there.'
'If we're wrong, we'll lose the best part of two days,' Will warned him.
Halt nodded. 'And if we're right, we'll pick up the best part of a day.'
Horace listened absently to the discussion. He was happy to go along with whatever his friends decided. And he knew that, these days, Halt was willing to listen to Will's views on the matter. The days were long past when Halt made all the decisions without consultation. Will had earned Halt's respect and Horace knew he valued the younger Ranger's opinion.
Horace glanced idly at the map and one place name struck him. He leaned forward and tapped his forefinger on the parchment.
'Macindaw,' he said. 'I thought the countryside looked familiar. That's to the east of us. If we do as you say, we'll be passing pretty close to it.'
'Be fun to drop in and see how they're doing,' Will said.
Halt grunted. 'We don't have time for social calls.'
Will grinned easily. 'I didn't think we did. I just said it'd be fun… if we did have the time.'
Halt grunted again and began to roll up the map. Will knew his former teacher's moods by now. He knew that this sudden gruffness was a sign that the older Ranger knew he was taking a calculated risk in heading south-east. He'd never show that he was worried he might be making a mistake. But after years spent together, Will could usually read his thoughts correctly. He smiled quietly to himself. When he was younger, he would never have dreamed that Halt could have doubts. Halt always seemed so infallible. Now he knew that the older Ranger had an even greater mental strength – the ability to decide on a course of action and adhere to it, without letting doubt or uncertainty divert him from it.
'We'll get them, Halt. Don't worry,' he said.
Halt smiled grimly. 'I'm sure I'll sleep better for that reassurance,' he replied.
They broke camp early. Breakfast was coffee, and the remainder of the damper toasted over the fire's coals and smeared with honey. Then, kicking dirt over the fire, they mounted and rode out.
The hours passed. The sun went directly overhead, then began to slide down to the west. An hour after noon, they crossed a track heading roughly to the south. As far as Horace was concerned, it seemed no different to three or four others they had crossed that day, but Will suddenly swung down from the saddle. He went down on one knee and studied the ground in front of him.
'Halt!' he called and the older Ranger joined him. There were definite signs that a party of travellers had passed this way. Will touched one footprint, clearer than the rest. It was off to the side of the track in a fortuitously damp section of ground. The footprint had been left by a heavy boot, with its sole bearing a triangular patch along the outer edge.
'Seen that before?' Will asked.
Halt leaned back, releasing a sigh of relief. 'Indeed I have. Up in One Raven Pass. This is Tennyson's party, all right.'
Now that his action was proved to be correct, he was free of the doubt and worry that had plagued him all morning. It had been a risk to take the short cut. If they had had to return to the point where they first left Tennyson's track, anything could have happened – a storm or heavy rain might have washed out the tracks, leaving them floundering, with no idea which direction Tennyson had taken.
'By the look of these tracks, they're less than two days ahead of us,' he said, with great satisfaction.
Will had moved a few metres away, studying the tracks. 'They've picked up some horses,' he said abruptly.
Halt looked at him quickly, then moved to join him. There were clear traces of several sets of hoof prints in the soft earth and grass, a little way off the trail.
'So they have,' he agreed. 'God knows what poor farm they raided to get them. There are only three or four, so most of the party will still be on foot. We could be up to them by tomorrow.'
'Halt,' said Horace, 'I've been thinking…'
Halt and Will exchanged an amused glance. 'Always a dangerous pastime,' they chorused. For many years, it had been Halt's unfailing response when Will had made the same statement. Horace waited patiently while they had their moment of fun, then continued.
'Yes, yes. I know. But seriously, as we said last night, Macindaw isn't so far away from here…'
'And?' Halt asked, seeing how Horace had left the statement hanging.
'Well, there's a garrison there and it might not be a bad idea for one of us to go fetch some reinforcements. It wouldn't hurt to have a dozen knights and men at arms to back us up when we run into Tennyson.'
But Halt was already shaking his head.
'Two problems, Horace. It'd take too long for one of us to get there, explain it all and mobilise a force. And even if we could do it quickly, I don't think we'd want a bunch of knights blundering around the countryside, crashing through the bracken, making noise and getting noticed.' He realised that statement had been a little tactless. 'No offence, Horace. Present company excepted, of course.'
'Oh, of course,' Horace replied stiffly. He couldn't really dispute Halt's statement. Knights did tend to blunder around the countryside making noise and getting noticed. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
Halt continued. 'The best thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. Tennyson doesn't know we're coming. And that's worth at least a dozen knights and men at arms. No. We'll continue as we are for the moment.'
Horace nodded grudging agreement. When they caught up with the Outsiders, they'd have a stiff fight on their hands. Will and Halt would have their hands full dealing with the two Genovesan assassins. He would have liked to have even three or four armed knights behind him to take on the rest of the false prophet's followers.
But in the time he'd spent with Halt and Will, he'd learned repeatedly how valuable an ally surprise could be in a fight. Reluctantly, he decided that what Halt said made good sense.
The two Rangers remounted and they set off again, following the trail with renewed purpose. The knowledge that they had narrowed the gap between them and Tennyson to less than a day urged them on. They scanned the horizon before them with extra caution, looking for the first sign that they had caught up with their quarry.
Will spotted him first.
'Halt!' he said. He had the good sense not to point in the direction he was looking. He knew Halt would follow his gaze and if he were to point, he would alert his quarry to the fact that he had been seen.