Thyrn had been doing the last spell on guard duty and, at first, he was not missed. There was a little ritual grumbling when the wakers emerged to an unlit fire and this was followed by a vague presumption that he had probably gone to fetch water from a nearby stream.
The fire was lit and breakfast was being cooked before it became apparent that he had been away a long time. Even then, there was no great concern. Though it was chilly, everything presaged a fine day, the sky was clear and the air was invigoratingly fresh.
‘He’s probably exploring up in the rocks,’ Nordath said. ‘There’s a lot of him that never got past eight years old.’
Adren made a disparaging sound. ‘Do any men?’ she asked of no one in particular, gingerly snatching a piece of hot meat from the pan.
‘Oh, going to be one of those days, is it?’ Rhavvan observed with martyred resignation. ‘Been sharpening your tongue all night, eh dear?’
There was a brief exchange of abuse between the Wardens before someone noticed that Endryk was looking anxiously up at the rocks at the top of the slope where they had camped.
‘What’s the matter?’ Hyrald asked.
‘I can’t see him,’ Endryk replied flatly. He stood up and looked around the valley. ‘In fact, I can’t see him anywhere.’
Hyrald shot a quick glance at Nordath before commenting, with a rather forced heartiness, ‘Maybe he’s playing some kind of a game. All this business is hard enough for us, it’s difficult to imagine what it must be like for him. As Nordath said, he’s only a kid in many ways. He needs to be away from us occasionally.’
But Endryk was unconvinced. ‘That’s true, but I don’t think he’d go far without telling us. And he certainly wouldn’t leave the camp unguarded. He’s very keen to do things correctly.’
The mood about the fire darkened. Slowly they all stood up to join Endryk in his searching of the valley. But Thyrn was not to be seen.
Rhavvan called out, startling them all. His voice echoed emptily into the fresh morning air, but no reply came back. He shouted again but to the same effect.
Nordath began rubbing his hands together. ‘Could… Aghrid’s men have taken him?’ he asked nervously.
‘No,’ Endryk said unequivocally. ‘No one’s following us now. And no one’s been into the camp. Even if Thyrn had nodded off, Nals would have woken us up.’ For the first time since they had met him, he seemed to be completely at a loss. He turned to Hyrald. ‘Perhaps you’ve more experience of this kind of thing than I do.’
‘Perhaps,’ Hyrald agreed. ‘But not in a place like this or under these circumstances. Usually there’s no real problem – a woman somewhere – too raucous a night with friends – a family quarrel. But none of those apply here. I’m afraid I’m as lost as you.’
Nordath’s nervousness was turning into agitation. ‘He must be somewhere nearby. He wouldn’t just wander off.’
Adren took his arm, Warden’s experience showing through. ‘Don’t worry. That’s all he can have done. He’s probably become engrossed in something and hasn’t realized how far he’s gone. He’ll be all right. We’ll find him.’ She turned him gently so that he did not see the growing concern on Endryk’s face. She could not shield him from his voice however.
‘If he’s not replying to Rhavvan’s call and he’s not in sight he’s either been gone for some time or he’s injured himself.’ Adren glowered at him and gave Nordath’s arm a reassuring squeeze.
‘Will you be able to find any tracks he might have left?’ Hyrald asked Endryk.
‘We can look, but I doubt there’s anything to be seen. The ground’s too hard.’ He frowned. ‘Check the horses and his pack. See if he’s taken anything.’
A hasty search found everything intact.
‘So all he’s got is what he’s wearing and probably a water bottle.’ Endryk puffed out his cheeks and looked round none too hopefully at the valley and the enclosing peaks.
‘This is a bad place to be lost.’ Hyrald said very softly.
‘It is,’ Endryk replied, equally softly. ‘What in pity’s name could have possessed the lad?’ He answered his own question. ‘Maybe as you said, it’s all suddenly become too much for him. He’s borne up so well we might have missed something. Then again, I suppose with the kind of life he’s led, keeping things to himself has become a habit.’ He grimaced. ‘Still, it doesn’t matter. We’ll just have to do our best and hope luck’s with us. At least the weather is.’ He rallied a little. ‘And whatever else he is, he’s not stupid. There’ll be reasoning of some kind going on in his head.’ He turned to the others. ‘Adren, you’re the most agile, you come with me, we’ll look in the rocks up there. Rhavvan, Hyrald, you take the horses and start searching the valley. Use the camp as a centre, move out, across and back.’ He pointed. ‘Then continue the same pattern swinging across from there to there.’ His arm traced out a broad arc. ‘Go slowly and carefully. Keep your eyes and your ears open.’
Nordath was heading for his horse. Endryk stopped him. ‘Nordath, I know you want to do something, but I’d like you to stay here in case he comes back while we’re away. Make a smoky fire so that…’ He stopped suddenly and closed his eyes in disbelief. There was a brief silence, then he said curtly, ‘Forget all that.’ He picked up Thyrn’s pack and opened it.
‘Nals,’ he called.
Nals was lying by the fire watching the food cooking. Without moving his head, his eyes turned towards Endryk, examined him, then returned to watching the food. Endryk walked over and squatted down beside him. ‘This one’s his own dog,’ he said over his shoulder to the others, ‘but he’s far and away the best here to find Thyrn – if he feels like it. Start breaking the camp anyway. He’ll concentrate better when the food’s gone.’
Nordath’s hand fluttered. ‘Break camp? But if he comes back?’
‘We’ll mark our trail clearly. Anyway, if Thyrn’s nearby and unhurt he’ll probably see us over this ground.’ He offered the open pack to Nals. The dog looked at him suspiciously then tentatively pushed its nose into it.
‘Find him for us, please. Find Thyrn,’ Endryk said, his voice quiet and serious.
Nals withdrew his head from the pack and looked anxiously at the now disappearing food. Adren threw him a piece of meat which he caught with a rapid flick of his head.
‘Find Thyrn,’ Endryk repeated patiently, as soon as Nals had seen that all the food was gone. He proffered the bag again.
Nals took another desultory sniff at it then levered himself up and, after a prolonged stretch, began meandering slowly about the camp, sniffing the ground intently. At Endryk’s silent urging, the others began quickly breaking the camp as he had instructed. Abruptly, Nals was moving away from them and down the slope in the direction they had intended to take that day. Endryk untethered his horse. ‘Follow me when you’ve finished,’ he said to the others. ‘If we change direction before you catch up, I’ll leave a clear sign.’ Before anyone could reply he was running after the retreating dog, his horse trotting beside him.
Impelled by this unexpected development, it did not take Hyrald and Rhavvan long to pack the shelters and load the horses, while Nordath and Adren cleaned the site. Both Endryk and Nals were thus still in sight when they set off after them.
‘Perhaps best if we don’t hurry,’ Hyrald said, ‘at least while we can see them. We’ve got enough problems now without one of us taking a fall.’
It was good advice but it proved to be unnecessary. Nals was moving quite rapidly but he was also moving erratically, wandering from side to side and frequently pausing. It was not long before Endryk was joined by the others.
As they walked on, following Nals’ eccentric progress, Nordath asked, ‘Are you sure he knows what he’s doing?’ He glanced back towards the camp site. ‘What if Thyrn’s up in those rocks and we’re walking away from him?’
‘We aren’t,’ Endryk said categorically. ‘Nals’ sense of smell is better than either our sight or our hearing. Thyrn’s been this way.’ Nordath looked at him and then at Nals, uncertainly. Endryk pointed back the way they had come. ‘And I’ve seen some signs myself. Not much – just some scuff marks on those rocks over there – but enough. No animal made them, that’s for sure.’
This reassurance quietened Nordath a little though he was still preoccupied and tense.
Then Nals lay down.
What’s he doing?’ Nordath demanded, eyes widening.
‘He’s lying down,’ Endryk said.
‘I can see that,’ Nordath retorted angrily. ‘I mean, what’s he doing? Why’s he stopped?’
‘He’s had enough for now. He’s lost interest.’
‘Lost interest!’ Nordath shouted, suddenly beside himself. He leaned over and shook Endryk’s arm vigorously. ‘Get him moving, for crying out.’ He made to dismount. ‘Don’t bother, I’ll do it myself.’
Endryk jumped down from his horse quickly and moved to stop him. ‘You stay where you are,’ he said firmly. ‘I told you, Nals is his own dog. He’s a companion, not a pet. He’s like the rest of us – neither trained nor tame. He does what he wants when he wants. And, believe me, he doesn’t respond well to abuse. I’ll try to get him interested again.’
It took Hyrald and Rhavvan edging their horses closer towards Nordath to keep him in his saddle, but eventually and with an ill grace, he agreed to remain where he was. Endryk took Thyrn’s pack across to Nals and offered it to him again.
No one spoke as he crouched down and talked to the dog.
The sounds of the valley closed around the watching riders, distant tumbling streams, whispering breezes rustling over short turf and rocks and scree, cold winds soughing around high peaks and boulders, all laced and interlaced, echoed and re-echoed, to become a shifting background murmur unlike any of its parts. It was punctuated occasionally by the creak of harness or a throaty croak from one of the black birds circling high above them.
‘What’s he doing?’ Nordath whispered, lifting himself in his stirrups to ease the tension pervading him.
‘More than any of us can,’ Adren replied gently. ‘Don’t fret. Everything will be all right. Like Endryk said, Thyrn will have a reason for what he’s done – he’s not stupid. And at least you can be sure here he’s not been abducted by some gang for ransom.’
‘Or by some diseased inadequate,’ Rhavvan added in as near a comforting voice as he could manage.
Nordath let out a noisy breath and fell reluctantly silent, though he was tapping his hand on his leg in a relentless tattoo.
Then, Endryk was stroking Nals’ head and the dog was moving again. Adren gave Nordath a reassuring wink and the procession set off again, trailing raggedly after Nals’ renewed search. It carried them steadily westward for a long time, continuing to follow the route they had intended to take. Gradually the valley narrowed and became rockier and bleaker until eventually they were obliged to dismount and continue on foot. At the same time Endryk began to point out more marks which indicated the recent passage of someone.
‘It looks as if he’s travelling quite quickly,’ he said. ‘He’s certainly making no attempt to cover his tracks, so either he’s expecting us to follow, or he doesn’t care. Either way it’s to our advantage.’
Their progress soon began to slow however as they found themselves leading the horses up an increasingly steep rocky slope. More than once Endryk had to caution Nordath for trying to move too quickly. Finally he was almost brutal. ‘I know it’s difficult for you, Nordath, but don’t forget where you are. This place is dangerous. If you injure yourself then we’ll really be slowed down. If you want to look after Thyrn, you’ll have to look after yourself first. Be careful.’
Shortly after that Endryk called them to a halt. ‘We’re going too fast, anyway,’ he said, wiping his forehead.
‘You mean, I’m holding you up,’ Nordath said. He was flushed and breathing heavily. ‘You’d be moving faster without me.’
‘We’d be moving faster if Thyrn hadn’t run off,’ Endryk said irritably. ‘And we’d all be better off if the Death Cry had never been proclaimed against you, and worse off if Aghrid had caught us in the open. And so on backwards, for ever. Yes, we’re having to move at your speed but that’s not the same as you holding us up. The fact is, it won’t make any difference if we find Thyrn in one hour or three. I’ve seen enough sign to know that he’s not injured so far. Right now, we all need to rest and refresh ourselves. Then we’ll move on again.’
Nordath sat down and leaned against a rock silently.
‘I’m sorry,’ Endryk said guiltily. ‘I know it’s difficult not to fret. We’re all concerned about him but you really have to understand how important it is to stay in control out here.’ He gave Nordath a look full of compassion. ‘This is a cruel place and we’re in a cruel predicament. Nothing’s to be gained by looking at it otherwise. The only one of us really fitted to survive out here is Nals. The rest of us have got to work at it all the time.’
Nordath looked at the dog then clenched his fist. His face contorted. ‘Damn this place,’ he hissed. ‘And damn Vashnar, and Aghrid. Damn all of them, with their swords and their staffs and their brutal ways. What are we doing here? Why couldn’t we just be left alone? We weren’t causing anyone any trouble.’
No reply was expected and none was offered as Nordath fell silent and dropped his head in his hands. Endryk reached out as if to comfort him then thought better of it. He looked up unhappily at the long uneven dip between the two peaks which headed the valley and towards which they were heading.
‘This next part’s going to be difficult. When we’ve rested a little longer, Adren and I will go to the top and see if we can find out which way he’s gone. We might be able to find an easier route for the rest of you once we’re up there.’
‘No,’ Nordath said, looking up at him. ‘We’ll stay together.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘I’m sorry about that little outburst. I wouldn’t want any of you to think that I was anything other than deeply grateful for everything you’ve done. It’s just that…’
‘No apology’s necessary,’ Hyrald said, before he could finish. ‘You only said what the rest of us were thinking, and thoughts like that are best exposed to the light where they can’t fester.’ He took Nordath’s arm. ‘As for Thyrn, I can’t think what he’s playing at, or why, and I won’t tell you not to worry about him, but I will tell you not to give up. Wewill find him between us.’
As Endryk had said, clambering up the final part of the slope proved to be no easy task. The horses in particular found it very difficult and needed a great deal of careful handling. Nevertheless, they eventually reached the dip without serious incident. Endryk told the others to wait while he and Nals moved some way ahead, searching for further sign of Thyrn’s passing.
In front of them now lay two valleys. The first, broad and open, was similar to the one they had just travelled through. It continued to the west. The other, despite the sunlight, was darker and bleaker in appearance and ran south-west.
Nordath gazed along it intently. ‘He’s gone that way,’ he said, apparently to himself. A gust of cold wind swept over the dip as he spoke. He wrapped his arms about himself and shivered. Adren ushered him into the sunlit lea of a rocky outcrop. None of the Wardens questioned him about his comment though they exchanged significant glances when Endryk returned a few minutes later with the same information. They set off without any debate, scrambling cautiously over the broad sheet of shattered rocks that sloped down from the dip.
The valley which Thyrn had chosen was substantially narrower than the one they had been travelling along, and bounded by higher, more jagged peaks. Its floor was uneven and littered with boulders of all sizes, and such grass as grew there had a stunted and brittle look to it. A feeling of oppression soon began to pervade the group. Rhavvan voiced it first in his characteristically direct manner.
‘This place gives me the creeps. What did he want to come down here for?’
‘Well, at least he’s still heading in the right direction,’ Endryk offered. ‘He could’ve decided he wanted to go north again.’
‘That’s no consolation,’ Rhavvan said, glancing sourly up at the looming peaks.
Endryk told them to mount.
‘We’ll have to risk a gentle trot while we can. He’s moving quickly. Without anything to carry he’s probably been gaining on us steadily. I’d like at least to catch sight of him before nightfall.’ His expression became worried. ‘Whatever’s driving him, it’s not impossible he might carry on in the dark and we certainly can’t do that.’
They rode on in silence for a long time, their pace being set predominantly by Nals who seemed to be warming to his task now. On occasions he ran a long way ahead of them, almost out of sight, but he always stopped to wait for them, tongue lolling and with a generally impatient demeanour. The bleak vista that the valley had offered at the outset did not change as they moved along it. Indeed it grew worse as the floor grew narrower and the scree-fringed sides became steeper, ramping darkly up to increasingly jagged ridges and peaks. The sun added little and a flaccid stream meandering reluctantly along with the riders brought none of the bustling liveliness that a mountain stream should have.
‘More like the mountains in your homeland, is it – all this?’ Hyrald asked Endryk in an effort to lighten the group’s silent and increasingly sullen mood, but his forced geniality rang emptily.
‘There are valleys and valleys, Hyrald,’ Endryk replied, making the same effort himself. ‘This one has little charm, for sure. Certainly not one that would be sought out for a pleasant day’s walking. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky it’s not overcast and raining.’ He smiled, then chuckled to himself. ‘Mountains and valleys are like adults – they reflect the way they were treated when they were young.’
Hyrald looked up warily as if in the presence of reproving parents. ‘Young mountains, eh? Can’t say the life-cycle of mountains is anything I’ve ever thought about, to be honest.’
Endryk made an expansive, encompassing gesture. ‘You should. Everything here’s been carved out by ice and snow, wind and rain, summer heat and winter cold, pebble by pebble, crevice by crevice, over a span of years we can’t begin to comprehend. The mountains were here and changing long before we even existed, and they’ll be here and changing long after we’ve gone. Our entire lives are less to them than the blink of an eye is to us. It’s good for ones sense of perspective.’
‘Don’t try to cheer us up any more than you have to, will you?’ Rhavvan chimed in. ‘I’m feeling small and inadequate enough as it is.’
‘No, it’s interesting,’ Adren chimed in. ‘I’d never thought about anything like that, not even when I was a kid. And I used to think some odd things. I used to plague my father with questions like, why can’t animals talk, why can’t I fly, why isn’t rain blue like the sky where it comes from?’ She laughed to herself as old memories washed over her.
Rhavvan muttered something derogatory under his breath to which Adren, still laughing, replied with a gesture quite at odds with her innocent childhood recollections.
‘How do you know all this, anyway?’ Rhavvan demanded of Endryk. ‘Who can say how old a mountains is?’
‘My people are just curious about things. They take a pride in discovery, in reasoning, in probing with the mind. Testing, rejecting, searching – and teaching.’
‘Why?’
Endryk turned in his saddle to look straight at him. ‘That sounds like one of Adren’s unanswerable childish questions,’ he replied, smiling.
It was Nordath who replied. ‘They do it for the same reason you’re asking the question, Rhavvan – curiosity. It’s deep in our nature – discovering things, solving problems. And it’s fun, isn’t it, learning? Knowledge is always preferable to ignorance.’
Rhavvan drew in a noisy breath and looked at his colleagues. ‘I’m not so sure about that, some of the things we’ve seen,’ he said.
‘I didn’t say it was comforting or cosy,’ Nordath went on. ‘Merely preferable.’
‘Nothing’s to be feared, it’s only to be understood,’ Endryk said.
‘Precisely,’ Nordath agreed.
‘Not my own words, I’m afraid,’ Endryk admitted.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Nordath retorted and they both laughed.
Rhavvan’s response was more caustic. ‘I’ll remember that little gem the next time some drunken oaf’s swinging a sword at me.’ He mimicked Endryk’s voice. ‘I understand what’s happening so I don’t need to be afraid. Very useful, that.’
Endryk was still laughing. He put his hand to his head in mock despair. ‘I’d a feeling I was going to get a remark like that even as I spoke.’
The brief exchange eased the mood of the group a little and they trotted on in comparatively good spirits for some time, following Nals’ still enthusiastic lead.
Then he stopped and began walking round in erratic circles. Endryk dismounted.
‘What’s the matter?’ Nordath asked anxiously.
‘I don’t know,’ Endryk replied. ‘It looks as if he’s lost the scent. Wait here.’
Cautiously he walked up to the circling dog and began looking intently at the area it was traversing. Then he motioned the others forward.
‘It looks as if Thyrn stopped here for some reason.’ He looked puzzled. ‘But he didn’t rest. In fact, he doesn’t seem to have rested since he left the camp.’ A flicker of concern passed over his face. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me before, but he must be exhausted by now. We’ll have to find him soon.’ He pointed. ‘Look, there’s part of a footprint in that soft ground there. And another over there, and here.’ He glanced up at the surrounding crags. Nearby was the ragged scar of a small rock fall. Parts of it glistened with the persistent dribbles of water that had probably caused it.
Endryk moved towards it. The others followed. It needed no profound tracking skills to see more of Thyrn’s footprints in the sodden ground. Endryk grimaced and swore softly.
‘What the devil’s he up to,’ he muttered. ‘We can’t possibly get the horses up there.’ He frowned and stood looking thoughtfully at Thyrn’s tracks for a while.
‘We’re going to have to divide the party,’ he said eventually. ‘Adren, you and I’ll go up to the top of this and see if we can find his tracks up there. The rest of you will have to stay here and wait. A rest won’t do you any harm – and the horses need one, anyway. Feed and water them.’ He delved into his saddlebag and withdrew a small lantern. ‘We’ll come back before nightfall, but set up camp and light a fire once the light starts to go – it’ll be useful as a guide for us.’
There was some resistance to this decision, not least from Adren.
‘I can’t climb up there,’ she protested volubly, to general agreement. ‘Ye gods, look at it.’
Endryk scrutinized the rock fall again, his hand shading narrowed eyes against the bright sky. ‘It’s not a climb, it’s a scramble, that’s all,’ he said. ‘If it involved climbing I’d go on my own. It looks worse than it is. You’re still not used to the scale of the mountains, that’s all. Don’t worry. Thyrn’s done it.’
This did not reassure her. She cast a surreptitious glance at Nordath. ‘Thyrn’s… preoccupied,’ she said with heavy discretion.
Endryk nodded. ‘Yes, and when we find him he’ll probably respond better to you than anyone else except perhaps Nordath, and he won’t be able to get up there without plenty of resting and help, all of which will take time.’
Adren’s mouth curled in defeat and she motioned him ahead of her up the slope. Nals ran in front of them both.
‘You go first,’ he said to her as they began scrambling up the fall. ‘Same rules as everywhere else. Don’t rush, and think about what you’re doing. It’ll be very slippery in parts. Tell me if anything’s bothering you.’
‘What about the dog? Is he coming too?’
‘If he wants. Don’t worry about him. I’ll help him if he needs it.’
They were over halfway up the climb before Endryk spoke again. He looked up at Adren, her tongue protruding slightly as she planted a foot solidly and grasped the edge of a rock. He smiled. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
She peered down at him underneath her arm. ‘Certainly not,’ she said firmly. Down below, the brief exchange reached the watchers quite clearly.
‘I think we can stop holding our breath now,’ Hyrald said, clearing his throat self-consciously.
‘I could’ve climbed that,’ Rhavvan announced, lips pursed in certainty.
‘You might have to yet,’ Hyrald retorted. ‘You can carry one of the horses.’ He slapped his comrade’s arm. ‘Speaking of which, let’s get them tended and ourselves ready for a long wait. That, at least, we’re good at.’
‘Are you all right?’ Endryk asked as he reached the ridge.
Adren was flushed and her eyes were shining. ‘Yes,’ she said, then she turned round, her arms open wide, all pretence at indifference gone. ‘Look at this, isn’t it splendid?’
‘This’ was the view. Sunlit peaks and rolling hills ranged in every direction under a cloudless sky. It would have been difficult to imagine a greater contrast with the lowering valley out of which they had just struggled.
‘Beautiful, beautiful,’ she whispered.
She waved enthusiastically to the watching group below and they waved back.
Endryk smiled then closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath, opening his arms slowly in front of him, palms upwards. As he breathed out he brought them together again, palms down. It was a graceful, relaxed movement quite different to Adren’s exhilarated embrace of the mountains.
‘What are you doing?’ Adren asked.
‘Just breathing,’ Endryk replied, smiling.
‘You and your breathing,’ she retorted, though the scornful tone she tried to affect turned into just a friendly jibe. ‘Let’s find our man. I noticed plenty of scuff marks on the way up, so he’s breathing as well.’
‘Yes,’ Endryk agreed, his face darkening. ‘Too many scuff marks. He’s going too fast and he’s getting tired. I can’t see that he’ll get much further without running into some kind of problem. We’ll just have to hope it’s not a serious one.’
Nals ran between them, bumping into Endryk’s legs. Far from needing any help, the dog had scuttled and scratched his way up the rock fall with alarming alacrity and seemed to be even more excited at reaching the ridge than Adren. Endryk, however, ignored him and began searching for some sign of the way Thyrn had gone. It did not take long. He had followed the ridge, in the direction he had been taking along the valley. Endryk’s brow furrowed as he looked along the route. The ridge rose steadily, curving round in a broad sweep towards a large peak which dominated the area.
‘What’s the matter?’ Adren asked.
‘Nothing much,’ Endryk replied. ‘It could have been worse, he could’ve gone down the other side and that would have really given us problems. But I’m trying to work out how long it’ll take us to get up there and back.’ He looked up at the sun. ‘The light’s going to hold well. We should be able to make that peak and be back before nightfall, but we’ll have to mark the route as we go, especially this point, just in case we get held up. We’ll also have to keep a careful eye out for where he’s been. It might look narrow from here but there’s plenty of places he could’ve gone. He could be just skirting round that peak for some reason.’
‘Nals will help, won’t he?’
‘Possibly. When he’s quietened down a bit. He’s too excited to be any use at the moment.’
Adren stroked the dog and made sympathetic noises to it before giving another wave to the watchers below. Then they set off along the ridge.
They made steady progress; the going was not difficult and the warmth of the sun tempered the cold breeze that was blowing over the ridge. Gradually, Nals became more his old taciturn self again, loping ahead of them, head low over the rocky ground and confirming the occasional physical signs of Thyrn’s passing that they found.
They had risen perhaps a third of the way up to the peak, and the ridge had broadened out to become part of the wide, hunched shoulders of the mountain, when Nals stopped. His ears went up sharply as if he had heard something and, after an introductory growl, he barked. Adren could not recall having heard him bark before and the sound, harsh in the mountain silence, startled her.
Endryk crouched down by him and peered intently in the direction where he was staring. The dog’s ears were still erect as if he were listening to something.
Adren pointed. ‘There,’ she said softly as if fearful of disturbing someone. ‘On the skyline.’
It took Endryk a moment to make out the distant figure sitting on a ledge. It was motionless and its head was slumped forward.