Ergo trailed behind, rummaging through his pockets, glancing intently at one scrap of paper after another before jamming them back into their cloth repositories.
"Blast! One of these days I've got to get organized. Hire a scribe to rewrite everything nice and neat. Ah." He smiled at nothing in particular, dropped slightly to one side of the marchers. No one saw him melt into the bushes.
Oswyn hesitated, hand on sword hilt. Kegan trotted up to stand next to him.
"What is it?"
Oswyn stared into the trees. "I thought I heard something."
His companion joined him in listening hard. "I hear nothing. What did it sound like?"
"I don't know. Strange. A popping sound."
Kegan listened a moment longer, then shrugged. "A branch falling off a tree, a hare breaking twigs. You see Slayers beneath every bush."
"Is that so surprising?"
"I suppose not. Not when I've started to see them rising from every creek and pond we pass."
"Aye." Oswyn let his hand slip from his sword. "It must have been a branch."
A small brown shape had been watching the two men closely. Now it padded on ahead, then cut back toward the troupe. It halted before the startled Titch, who picked it up instinctively.
Rell eyed the puppy uncertainly. "Now where did that little dust mote come from?" He turned and scanned the forest.
There was no sign of passing travelers or nearby habitation.
"I don't care," said Titch delightedly. "Hey, stop that!"
The puppy yapped softly and continued to lick the boy's face.
Colwyn heard the excitement and slowed to join them. "Now that's a cute little mouse." He frowned, looked over their heads. "Where's Ergo?"
"He's—" Titch started to say, but a growl from the puppy made him hesitate. Or perhaps it was something he saw in the dog's eyes.
"He'll be back real soon," Titch finished. The puppy resumed licking his nose. "Can I keep him?"
"Hmmm?" Colwyn murmured absently, still searching the forest. His attention came back to the ball of brown fluff in the boy's arms. "Of course. Just keep him quiet."
"I will," Titch promised. The puppy promptly curled up and went to sleep in his arms.
Oswyn found himself leaning back, craning his neck to locate the sky. "Never have I seen woods like these! Heard of 'em, but never thought to see them. These trees are like castles."
"Which they are, to the many creatures who inhabit then: upper reaches," Ynyr explained as they passed around one particularly enormous bole. Overhead it was a long way to the vault of heaven, but there was none of the claustrophobic feeling that had enveloped them all during their trek through the swamps.
"Peaceful place," Oswyn added.
"Not up that way." Ynyr brought them to a halt and pointed.
Through a break in the towering woods ,they could see a sloping cliff of dark basalt. It was a difficult climb, but not an impossible one. The widow's mountain.
Ynyr turned to face Colwyn. "Here we must part company, my friend."
Colwyn shook his head. "Not yet. I'm going with you. I can help." He touched the strap holding the glaive.
Ynyr only smiled. "No. The glaive's power is great, but it is not limitless. You must retain it for when it will truly be needed." He indicated the slope ahead. "Besides, if two approach, it is likely that both will die. There will be very little time in which to make contact and when I present myself to the widow there must be no chance of a misunderstanding. Your presence and the need to explain it would only hamper my efforts, Colwyn. Alone, I may have a chance."
Torquil had listened quietly. Now he offered his own advice to Colwyn. "Each to his chosen fate. Listen to the wise man."
"Yes, listen. As I've tried to teach you to do. Each to his fate. If I have not returned by tomorrow morning, you will know mine."
"And if that should happen, what then? How am I to proceed without your good advice?"
"You must go on as best you are able, my boy. That is your fate." He conjured up a smile. "It is too early for despair. Everything may go as hoped. Meanwhile get some rest and try to ease your mind as well as your body." He turned away and set off toward the dark cliff.
"Now that's the advice of a wise man," commented Kegan. He proceeded to find himself a soft spot near a great twisted root and sit down. Torquil chose a resting place opposite.
"Wait, boy," Titch was yelling, "wait for me!" The puppy had jumped from his arms and was scampering into the bushes.
Ergo reappeared a moment later. He paused a moment to scratch behind one ear, frowned, then joined the boy. Rell looked on amusedly, understanding now what he'd only been able to suppose earlier. Titch looked disappointed, but not gravely so.
"I still say it's a foolish wish," Ergo said to the lad. "I thought to show you that. Well, don't you agree with me now?"
Titch shuffled his feet, staring at the ground. "You're a nice friend, Ergo, but if you want the truth…"
"Careful, boy," Rell warned him. "The truth can be dangerous."
Titch didn't care. "I liked you better as a puppy." "Fagh! Children!" Ergo walked away, shaking his head bemusedly and hunting for a place to relax. He was exhausted, and not just from the strain of transformation.
Colwyn took note of his condition as well as that of the others and beckoned Torquil over.
"We have no food save what little remains in our packs and the men are too tired to hunt. I can't blame them. These past days would have tried the endurance of a hundred men. Right now I confess to little enthusiasm for killing anything, even a deer."
"What do you want from me, Colwyn?" "Suggestions. You've roamed this country while I've been stuck in a castle learning history and administration. Those are of little use on an empty belly. If you've a talent for scavenging, man, use it now."
Torquil rubbed the stubble of beard that decorated his chin. "Well now, sir, that presents something of a problem. What we call scavenging you might call by another name."
"Promise payment in the name of Turold and Eirig,"
Colwyn told him.
"No disrespect intended, sir, but common folk are disin-
clined to trust the promises of princes, having been lied to by them so often in the past."
"Don't deal me homilies, Torquil. I'm too tired and too hungry. The fate of Krull itself hangs in the balance." He turned to gaze at the distant mountain, which had swallowed up his most trusted adviser.
"Your pardon, Colwyn, but I did not mean to tease you, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't play so loose with the word hang in my presence. It makes my men and me nervous. Are you saying that we should obtain what victuals we can by any means necessary?"
"I would prefer that you not break the law while doing so, if that's what you mean."
"Now that will be difficult, not to mention different. But there may be a way. Hunger has a way of stimulating a man's mind as well as his inventiveness." He turned and shouted. "Kegan!"
The thief pushed back his hair. "Now what? Another crisis?"
"None greater than a score of empty bellies. Get your lazy tail over here."
Grumbling to himself, Kegan climbed to his feet and ambled over. Colwyn explained the predicament.
"I thought as much. At least, my guts did. So it's up to poor old Kegan to feed this lot, is it?"
"You're as supple with words as most thieves are with their fingers, Kegan," said Torquil. "We're in no shape to outrun the local law even if we had the time to lead them a merry chase. I blush to confess it but we must resort to legal means of feeding ourselves."
"How do you expect me to manage this miracle?" Kegan asked curiously. "I'm no wise man. That one's gone up the mountain to seek his death. Better you'd thought to have him feed us first. Starving men make poor mourners."