CHAPTER 4 It would be difficult to see anyone approaching while hunched over in a saddle. Pahl didn't care. He was already fairly drenched and if he sat up he would freeze. For the last two hours they had been riding along the small trail that led to Gahlen Highway. It had taken them almost an hour to reach this trail from the shed. Pahl had mentioned that they should just go back to Aubon and see if the men had left. Both Derek and hawk vetoed this, so he decided to accept the reality of riding for the next two hours in heavy rain. At least until they reached Crossroads Inn. To Pahl it seemed almost absurd to ride all the way to Gahlen because a few strange men showed up at their door. Especially in the middle of the night, in a heinous downpour. He almost laughed at the audacity. Who could be so compelling as to make his father act this foolishly. He would not have really cared if it wasn't so cold. He would have actually enjoyed a trip to Gahlen. But this was ridiculous and with every sloshy step his horse took, Pahl's mood grew darker. Long since overcoming his earlier fear, Derek now led his two companions toward Gahlen Highway with confidence. He had expected a confrontation since reaching the trail, but when none materialized he settled back and relaxed. This would be a long ride and there was no sense in remaining tense and tiring early on. Relaxed, he could tell Pahl was not liking the ride. He could hear him muttering to himself periodically. He smiled at this. Pahl was always quick to emotion. This self talking had become second nature to him when something upset him. And bad weather upset Pahl Kempter. Derek's smile turned somber as he reflected on the man they led; the strange man in black. Who was he really? Derek knew he was not the simple wanderer Podez the Dwarf dad described to Pahl. Derek had talked to Pahl several times about the man, but Pahl always contended that the wounded man was some mystical mage from the West. `Why else would it take five armed men to bring him down,' he would say. Derek knew better. Pahl was always a bit off when it came to logical thinking. The man was some type of con artist or thief. He spoke words much too elegant for a common robber, but he acted too reserved for a simple traveler. Yes, there was definitely something more about this man than meets the eye. Derek would keep that in mind. The man did not necessarily present a danger, but he could definitely be dangerous. Hawk watched the two young men riding ahead of him. They did not trust him, he knew that. He could sense the feelings of the one just in front of him. This one was upset, bordering on angry. Strange that he should feel the young man's emotions so strongly. Normally he would have to reach out his senses to perceive a persons feelings. He shrugged it off to his heightened perception over the last few hours. Again he had narrowly escaped a planned attack on his person. Lately, he had been using the skills learned years ago almost constantly. He had focused his mind to the point where every unnatural move caused him to jerk. After an hour of a constant nerve racking state, he let his mind and perception lower to where he now rode with ease and assured they were in no immediate danger. This led him to thoughts about his charges. Somehow in the next two days he would earn the trust of these two young men. He did not know why, but he wanted them to trust him, or at least not to fear him. He ascribed this feeling to a desire of acceptance. Being a loner, he rarely met a family like the Kempter's. If the group at the Fur Trade crossed his path and presented a danger to his companions they would be sorry. This remained highly doubtful, though. Bojax Freed and Roshay Kempter would most likely send them to Rorshauk or Barren. That meant he could concern himself less about a confrontation and perhaps teach the boys some travel skills once they reached the highway to Gahlen. After about an hour, the rain lightened to a drizzle. In the next, it had stopped completely, but the wind kept the traveler's cloaks pulled tight and hoods up. They had made it to Gahlen Highway and could see a flicker of light from Crossroads Inn several miles to the west. Pahl's mood immediately perked up and he goaded his horse into a brisk walk, passing Derek. "Slow up there, Pahl," said Derek, "the horses are tired." "No more cold and tired than we are," Pahl responded. Derek laughed at this, urging his mare to meet his brother's pace. For Hawk, this was not difficult. He had been holding back the stallion; its gait being much longer than the other two. A normal walk was all it took to stay even. At the quickened pace the three riders made good time to the Inn. They roused the stable boy, had their horsed tended to, and headed quickly to the front doors of the Inn. Above the two large doors hung a sign that swayed in the wind. It read, "Crossroads." Hawk pulled open the door to the Inn and led the boys into the smoke filled dining area that normally played the part of reception area at roadside lodges. Derek and Pahl were both surprised to see so many other travelers sitting at tables drinking ale and smoking pipes at this late hour. Hawk showed them special hooks next to the stone hearth where they could hang their soggy cloaks. There, they would dry out nicely allowing them warm dry clothes in which to continue their trip. He led them to an empty table and they sat down heavily. "What a ride," remarked Pahl. "I don't think I've been this cold since I fell into Silver Lake last winter." He smiled boyishly, which made a stark contrast to the scowl he held on the trail. He rubbed his hands together enjoying the warmth emanating from the hearth several feet away. A serving woman stopped at their table with two ale mugs in her hand. "What'll it be, gents?" She asked. "A stay and a dry is two coppers each, which includes brushing down your horses. If you like a room for the three of you, that'll cost ya two silvers for the night with breakfast come morn'." She shifted one mug to her empty hand, waiting for a response. "We'll dry, thank you," answered Hawk, "and a round of ale, if you please." "Right away, sir," she said, leaving the three to drop mugs off at nearby table. "Aren't we staying?" Asked Pahl incredulously. "No," was Hawk's response. "Why not? I mean, we might as well head back in the morning. Two silvers is a fair price, besides, where are we..." "We're not staying because your father doesn't expect me to use the money he gave on a nice Inn room," Hawk cut him off. "Besides, I intend on showing you how to make a roadside bed." "That's just great!" Pahl slumped in his chair. "Pahl, Father said to meet him in Gahlen. I think we should go there." Derek's forthrightness eased Pahl's temper. "We need a summer's end adventure anyway, right?" Pahl smiled at this. "Sure, who knows, we might battle those warriors again." "Keep your voice down," admonished Hawk. Through the hazy room he looked at the other guests. There were eleven others at tables scattered throughout the room. All intent on their own drinks or conversations, but Hawk didn't want any prying ears to start trouble. The serving woman arrived with the ale and Hawk handed her a silver piece. "Just remember," he continued quietly, "until we get to Gahlen, we must take this trek seriously. We are not far from the Southern border and times have changed in Nordenland, especially in this part of the kingdom." Hawk went on to explain just how dangerous it was on the open roads of late, how caravans of goods would never be without armed guards, and very few traveled alone. "But you travel alone," countered Pahl grinning. Hawk returned a wry smile, "Yes, and look what happened to me. You must understand, Pahl, in this very room there could be any number of outlaws waiting to hear our destination so they can ambush us." The boys shook their heads in understanding, but both thought their older companion was being a bit over cautious, making Derek wonder. "What about you, Hawk, what, or should I say who was chasing you at Silver Lake?" Hawk sat back raising his eyebrows. Both brothers had heard the explanation given to their family. He clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers and resting them on the table. He looked directly at Derek, measuring the weight of his question. Derek met his gaze and after a moment dropped his eyes. "I know what you told my family, but Pahl and I were both there," continued Derek. He looked around the room carefully, then quietly added, "Either you stole something from them, or they are hunting you on an act of vengeance. Either way you are not exactly the road companion I would feel comfortable traveling with." Reaching out with his senses, Hawk studied the boy for a time. There was no mockery or contempt in what Derek had said. In fact, Hawk felt sure that the boy was barely able to speak so boldly, for fear of offending him. "You have spoken honestly and with courage, Derek," Hawk said, his eyes boring into the Fur Trader's son. "For that you deserve what answers I can give you." He related the earlier attacks and his opinion of them, how it was not until the third attack that he knew something was wrong. Two guests at a table near them got up and went toward their rooms. They appeared to be a man and wife. Hawk fell silent while they passed and then continued his narration. "After leaving Gahlen, and a tavern there in shambles, I thought to go up to Kreuz. I still hadn't gotten the winter supplies I needed, but I didn't want to stay in Gahlen and Kreuz wasn't all that far." The story entranced the boys, but Pahl spoke up, "Why didn't you go to the Constable then?" "Actually, I hadn't really thought about it," replied Hawk. "I assumed the foreigners were friends of the prior thieves and since I was heading north I didn't think they would follow me. When I arrived in Kreuz I found out differently. "Shortly after entering the lumber town I overheard two woodsmen talking about strangers who were seeking the whereabouts of a black clad traveler. They could only have been referring to me. I led my mule to a storehouse, bought provisions, and left immediately. "About a mile out of town I heard riders galloping behind me. I left the road and went into the forest. No stranger to the woodland I was able to lose them despite their horses and tracker. They did catch up to me once while setting a trap and I was forced into combat with two of them. I suffered sword wounds from that and later, because of my injuries, I was spotted in the open and took a crossbow bolt in the leg. The rest you know about." Their mouths hung half way open, the boys stared at Hawk with new found admiration. They couldn't understand why the warriors were after him or who they were, but that was irrelevant. Their boyhood yarns of outlaw and brigand came alive in this enigmatic man. Someone who lived the games that they only dreamed. "So, what will you do once we reach Gahlen?" Derek asked, genuinely curious. The serving woman returned to their table to refill their mugs. Hawk ordered some hard bread and sent her away with thanks. "After Gahlen I will go west to visit my old master, I think." "Then you are a Retter!" Pahl said excitedly. "I thought you were after the-" "I am not," Hawk cut him off sternly. "I have some knowledge and skills used by the followers of Light, but I am no Retter." This brought a barrage of questions from both Pahl and Derek, who had fantastic images of the Retter, mostly stories or fables told to them by their mothers. Hawk would not elaborate, however. Soon their bread arrived and their conversation degenerated to silence. As they ate, Hawk reflected again on his decision to return to the Keep. It had been ten years since he had left, and had not returned. Though he would never admit it, it was a matter of pride that kept him away. He had once studied the ways of the Path with an old Retter named Jeshur Baerd, when he was orphaned at the age of eleven. Jeshur had been somewhat of an Uncle to Hawk before Hawk's parents died of malaria. It was a natural transition for him to live with Jeshur when the other offered. Jeshur taught him the names of plants, trees, vegetation and their usage, the animals of the forest, letters and numbers, and times and seasons. At some point in their lives, most children in the Kingdom learn something of the Light of the Path as a way of living. Hawk was no different until he lived with Jeshur, a change that affected him dramatically. Jeshur taught Hawk the deeper doctrine of the purpose, sanctity, and preservation of life, weaving the belief that a Retter lives by into his lessons, and introducing the power a Retter wields for good purposes. All of these thoughts brought good memories and feelings to Hawk. Such good feelings, he had to force himself to bring forth memories that led him to leave the Keep. Memories of unworthiness and shame. So deep was Hawk into his own thoughts, he did not notice the boys get up and leave. When he looked up from staring at his bread they were gone. Quickly scanning the room he found them by the hearth, checking their cloaks. He watched them speak amongst themselves and smiled at their eager youthfulness. The serving woman came out from the back and Hawk caught her attention with a wave of his hand. "Do you have an over flow at this Inn," he asked. He was referring to the area an Inn uses for sleeping quarters when all the rooms are filled. An innkeeper would rent this area at a significantly lower rate. Hawk knew that all Inns had them, but his question really asked, `will you let us use it when all of your rooms aren't full?' "Yes," she answered. "Since it is such a late hour, you can all stay there for one silver. that will include breakfast and a bath." Giving her the silver piece, Hawk got up to get the boys. "It's through the double doors in the back. Just take a pillow and blanket from the wall rack." "Thank you," Hawk said over his shoulder. He walked to where the boys were and told them of his decision to stay. Leading them to the overflow, he showed them where the sleeping materials were. The area of an Inn's overflow is normally a hard wood floor with no windows. When guests crowd an inn, the overflow can get very uncomfortable, because everyone must make room on the floor to sleep. Fortunately for the three tired travelers this was not the case; they were the only ones in the overflow and had ample space to lay their mats and blankets comfortably. Crossroads Inn's overflow had a small window in one corner, but with the door closed the room was virtually black, putting the three companions quickly to sleep. Sunlight shining through the window woke Pahl up with a start. He sat up and ran his right hand through his hair. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes and looked up, out the small window. It was a bright day, the sun shining on the trees behind the Inn made him feel good. Pahl got up and shook Derek, who groggily awoke. Pahl looked to where Hawk should have been and was not surprised to find his blanket and mat folded and placed back on the shelf. He assumed Hawk had eaten and bathed already. The two brothers folded and placed their sleeping materials up on the shelf next to Hawk's and walked out into the dining area.. They noticed Hawk coming in from the double doors and crossed the room to meet him. He instructed them to eat and take a quick bath while he prepped the horses for travel. Feeling ravished from the night's excitement, they devoured their food with fervor, then quickly bathed and dressed. Refreshed from their sleep, breakfast, and bath, the boys were anxious to be on the road toward Gahlen. This was a new day and any disconsolate feelings from the previous night were long forgotten when they walked out of the inn into a sunny fall morning. Hawk was waiting for them atop the large stallion leading the two mares. With both mares brushed and bridled Hawk handed their reins to his young companions. The boys mounted and the three started down the well-traveled dirt highway toward Gahlen. The dirt was soft and in some parts muddy, but still easily traversed. They had barely left sight of the inn when Hawk mentioned, "We could easily ride back to Aubon, and likely have no troubles, but I have need of going quickly to Gahlen and thought I would teach you some outdoor skills along the way." He spoke matter- of-factly, without emotion. "Sounds great to me," said Derek. "Me too," echoed Pahl. "Good, I am grateful for your enthusiasm. We will start immediately then." Hawk drew his horse up short. "How many travelers left before we did this morning?" The boys looked at him, back at the inn, then down the trail. "I would guess four or five," ventured Pahl. Derek looked at the wet dirt and mud on the trail, trying to pick out the few tracks engraved there. "Looks like a couple of horses and a wagon," he said, "maybe two wagons." "Only two horses left before us," said Hawk. "But there are more tracks than that..." Derek started. "Yes there are," agreed Hawk, "but let me show you something." He climbed down from the stallion and the others followed. Walking a few steps away from the horses and kneeling down he motioned the two boys to him. When they were next to him he continued. "Look at the tracks closely." He pointed to the edge of a horse hoof imprint imbedded next to the line imprint made by a wagon. "This is a print of a quarter horse pulling a light wagon Eastward, possibly to Barren. Notice the mud pushed up at the front and the light imprint in back. That is how you tell direction. Most of these prints point east. On closer examination, you can group the prints and know who traveled with whom." He moved over to the left. "Like here. We have a goat, see the small hoof and light cleft and with it, a pony and two dogs." The boys looked on, amazed and exhilarated with these tracking lessons. They had been taught hunting techniques, but not for open road or for humans. Hawk described a group, possibly a family with a wagon, children, and three adults on foot traveled by the previous evening in the storm. He progressed to explain all the tracks, directions, and possible loads of each of the previous travelers in impressive detail. "But Hawk," interrupted Pahl, during an extensive discourse on the difference between a woman's boot print and a man's. "You said only two people left before us, yet you have noted more than ten are going west?" He looked at Hawk with a smirk that said, `try to explain that one.' "Yes, only two left the inn before us this morning, these others were made during the night and some of the lighter, washed out ones, yesterday." "How can you tell the difference?" Asked Derek. "Usually by the depth and clarity of the print," answered Hawk, "But that's not how I know." "Then how do you know?" Pahl asked, wishing he would dispense with the indirect answers. "I asked the stable boy before we left." "That's not skill!" Exclaimed Pahl. "On the contrary, it is," Hawk retorted. "Probably the best and most useful skill there is." He stood up and climbed back into his saddle. "You will find most of the information you need and want from a simple source; a lonely person eager for company. And remember, to know who is in front of you on the road can be very important." He kicked his horse into a walk and explained as he had the night before about brigands and the like on the highways of late. Hawk never told the boys who the two travelers ahead of them were. He was not sure himself, but felt a trifle concerned. The stable boy had said they were rough men who admonished him to keep quiet and prepare their horses quickly. The boy had told Hawk that these men left an hour before sunrise. This worried him. Normally, someone staying overnight at an inn would make full use of the facilities and not leave early thereby wasting their money. Also, the prints in the mud of the two men's horses were only an hour old at the latest. This meant that either they were waiting for someone or saw the three coming and decided to go on. Hawk resolved to keep a wary eye on the road and the surrounding trees and brush. As the three walked along the highway, Hawk pointed out various nuances to the boys. He showed them direction by the moss growing at the base of the pines, and edible berries and roots. The boys were aware of some of these techniques, having been taught them when they learned to hunt, but Hawk showed them a perspective of someone well traveled and knowledgeable of the land. Just under two hours after leaving the inn, the three riders rounded a bend and saw four men a hundred yards up the road. Two of the men sat in a wagon being pulled by a pair of horses. The men in the wagon began riding west in the direction of Gahlen, while the other two sat watching the three travelers approach. Both of them wore heavy clothing with long straggly hair held in check with headbands. One smoked a black pipe, sending small puffs of white into the morning air, while the other sat motionless. Hawk slowed the stallion to stop, the boys stopping on either side of him sixty yards from where the two horsemen were. "Hallo there," called out the one of the men. Hawk raised his hand in a half salute, acknowledging the man's call. He kicked his horse into a walk, continuing to where the two men positioned themselves. Hawk looked closely at the men, measuring their intent and demeanor. They appeared to be average travelers with all the belongings of someone heavily on the road, but their mannerisms gave more of a wary appearance than their smiles portrayed. They looked ruff and travel worn and Hawk guessed that they were either vagabonds or waylanders. He could not see any weapons, but they wore thick cloaks that might hide any number of deadly arms. He could not believe that either of these men were pilgrims or harmless travelers. "Can we be of assistance," Hawk asked warily. He had stopped further than necessary from these men placing some distance between them. Pahl and Derek remained silent, unsure of Hawk's caution. "Actually, yes," replied the man with the pipe, giving his auburn haired companion a nod. He held the pipe in his left hand and gestured with his right, pointing in a south-western fashion. "We are traveling to Yamet border town, and would appreciate some company, if you know what I mean." He gave Hawk slight wink. Hawk knew exactly what he portrayed to mean. Yamet was a ruff trading town between the kingdom of Nordenland and the Southern Clan and Baron communities. More trades would be finalized by a fight than any other form of agreement. Hawk suspected these men knew he would not be going to this town with two young men who looked like they rarely, if ever traveled abroad. He guessed that the pipe smoker meant to imply they wanted to increase their numbers to add safety to the journey. But these men were hardly the type to ask others to defend them. Hawk waited. The man with the pipe shuffled slightly at the lack of response. "What I mean to say is, would you be going in that direction? The men you saw just leave were on their way there, but didn't want company. Can you believe that? Not wanting company to Yamet?" He said the last with over emphasized incredulous. "No, we're not going to Yamet. Dangerous town, and we don't have anything worth trading.." "A shame," said the man, his voice carrying an awkward accent. "That's a nice stallion you have there, though. Looks southern, maybe from the Benkeek area. Would fetch a good price in Yamet. I could help you sell it there, for a minor finder’s fee." "I appreciate the offer," said Hawk, "but the stallion is not mine to sell." He knew the man was poorly trying to gain information from them, and that this could only mean trouble. "Good luck to you in Yamet." He shook the stallion's reins in an effort to continue up the road. The auburn haired man who had not spoken moved his horse into the middle of the road blocking Hawk. His companion holding the pipe gestured with his free hand, "Hold friend, perhaps we could simply travel with you to the cut off road?" His voice took on a hard edge leaving no false image that this was not a question. This made the Derek and Pahl shuffle uncomfortably on their horses. They looked at one another afraid to distract Hawk. Hawk did not fear these men, but rather feared any danger to his companions. His brow narrowed and he spoke with a commanding tone, slightly raising two fingers of his right hand and moving them from left to right, "Turn aside, friend, we wish to travel alone." The two men exchanged cautious glances and the one with the pipe chuckled uneasily, then said, "Sure, I understand the need for privacy. Just tryin' to make friendly conversation is all." The rider who had moved to the middle of the road now backed his horse to the edge, next to his friend. Both of them stared warily at Hawk, a mix of frustration and wonder etched onto their faces. Not pausing or speaking, Hawk led down the road without looking back. When they came around the next bend Hawk turned to the boys, "We are going to have to watch our backs now. Those men did not want to travel with us for the pleasure of it. They are waylanders, possibly Sojourns, but they didn't fit the description of the Sojourns I have met." "Why are they alone if they are Sojourns?" Asked Pahl. "I mean, I thought Sojourns traveled in large caravans, at least the ones I have seen do." "And they are usually wearing bright red or purple clothing aren't they?" Added Derek. "Yes, they are normally dressed in gaudy outfits, and they do travel in large family type groups." Answered Hawk. "But, sometimes they send out scouts or finders, as they call them, to seek the unwary or unfortunate traveler." Pahl looked somewhat taken aback, "I know Sojourns are not well liked, but I didn't think that they were thieves." "Not all of them are, Pahl. Some make an honest living from trading Southern and Northern goods, but most either swindle the unwise or outright steal from anyone they claim is intruding on their domain. And some send out these finders, who collect information and report back to the main camp about easy prey. These are the most dangerous for they plan and execute their way of life with professional precision." Hawk noticed that his listeners' eyes had widened and he toned down his narrative so as not to frighten his companions. He explained the life of a Sojourn as he understood it. That they traveled in groups consisting of brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles who never really professed to be Northern Kingdom citizens or citizens of any country. They lived in Nordenland along the southern border, always traveling up and down the border, never really venturing deeply south or north. That is all he really knew since he had only traded with them twice and usually lived far north. Throughout the remainder of the day several Eastern caravans passed by and shared short conversations with Hawk and the boys. Most of the exchange had centered on weather and road conditions. The weather was warm but not hot with the sky clear except for an occasional cloud, the road was not muddy like the night before and the boys found themselves enjoying the ride once they had forgotten the uncomfortable meeting earlier that morning. Hawk, on the other hand, did not forget the two men and systematically looked over his shoulder from time to time, searching for the waylanders he knew must be back there. As the sun dipped behind the horizon to the west Hawk began to wonder if the men had actually followed them this far. They had passed the turn off that led to Yamet over five hours ago and had met with several eastern travelers as well as small caravan coming from Yamet and going to Gahlen. This caravan was two or three hours behind them now and would notice the two men if they were acting suspiciously. Also, they had passed a number of turnoffs to different locations that the men would be unsure which one Hawk and the boys might have taken. Unless these men were excellent trackers, they would never be able to sift through the muddled tracks crisscrossing the Highway. Still, Hawk's inner sense told him to be wary, and it was this sense that had kept him alive during the most recent part of his life. Dusk turned to darkness and Hawk dismounted leading his horse off the road and over to a clearing. The boys wearily led their horses to the clearing eager to rest after the hard days travel. It had been some time since either of the boys had traveled so far in one day and they welcomed the needed break. The group were still at least ten miles west of Gahlen and were just now seeing some the distant flickering lights of the local suburban farm houses. Hawk decided to make camp where they were and finish the trip in the morning. Tying the horses to some nearby branches the boys brushed them down and untied the travel bags from the stallion. They ate a meager meal and laid out their cloaks for sleeping mats. Hawk showed the boys how to strike a fire with root fiber twisted into twine and wrapped around two sticks. By stacking hard to find dry leaves together and wrapping the twine around a dry branch he pulled the other two branches back and forth causing friction on middle branch. Soon the branch was smoking and by blowing on it he starting the dry leaves burning. For the next ten minutes the boys mimicked this technique and started small fires that they quickly put out; one fire was enough for their camp. Pleased with their accomplishment they rolled up their fire starters and lay down on the soft earth. It was not long before the boys were quickly asleep. Hawk sat with his back to the fire, staring east along the highway. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there just beyond his sight. For several minutes he just stared unmoving into the darkness, then thinking he was being over cautious on such a widely traveled road he lay down pulling his cloak over his shoulder. Hawk was a light sleeper and knew that his senses would wake him should the need arise. With that in mind he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. A crunching of branches brought Hawk instantly awake. Though distant, his outdoor instincts told him that the sound did not belong to any forest animal. He peered out into the darkness, searching vainly for movement, but there was none. Where another might have thought they mistakenly heard something and quickly dismissed it, Hawk did not. He knew that someone, or something was stocking them and he would not be taken unprepared. Pulling off the cloak that covered him, Hawk rolled into a crouch in the chill night air. The fire had burned down to embers shedding a soft orange glow against the foliage. Quite as a cat Hawk moved away from the light into the darkness of a nearby group of trees. There he waited and watched. Now fully awake he flexed his arms and legs to loosen them, preparing himself for whoever waited just outside his vision. For several long minutes he waited and watched, but nothing appeared and only the normal sounds of the night echoed through the trees. Hawk looked to where the boys slept soundly, again wondering if he was being too hasty with his decisions. Thinking that he was bordering on paranoia he walked out of the trees back to the camp. As he walked he heard noises in the distance again. He froze, looking in the direction of the sound and listening with every fiber of his being. The sound was moving away. It was footsteps crunching quietly through pine needles about one hundred fifty yards across the road to the Northeast. Hawk didn't hesitate, abandoning any semblance of stealth he bolted across the clearing, out onto the road and into the brush on the opposite side, all the while listening to his prey grow louder in its escape. The chase was on and after a few minutes Hawk chastened himself for not untying the stallion Already his right leg was burning where the wound had not fully healed. He had to slow to a jog and then a walk as he brushed branches and foliage out of his way in an attempt to catch the infiltrator. He finally stopped and listened. He could hear the escapee still running, crunching through the forest, but now the sound was further away. Hawk cursed, thinking himself foolish for trying to outrun someone in the middle of the night in his weakened condition. Then he cursed again for not thinking clearly. He had not called on any of the arts he had used for years in these situations. He had acted blindly and foolishly in an attempt to catch a night stranger. Checking his bearings against the moon lit forest floor he headed south to Gahlen highway. When he reached the highway he realized his quarry had led him almost straight north with a slight turn east of his camp. It surprised him to learn that he had traveled almost a mile into the dense forest. Walking back along the highway Hawk thought about this late night chase. What had caused him to madly run into the forest without regard to what he found there? He discovered not surprisingly that it was his need to know what tracked him. Who or what it was that wanted him. He was growing tired of running away and wanted answers to his questions about the southern warrior. He doubted that the person he chased had any connection with the warrior, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to find out what he could. The entire walk back he felt an odd sense that something was wrong. When he reached the camp these feelings were fully realized. The fire was completely black, covered with dirt. Hawk called for his companions and there was no answer. In the dim moon light he could see that the boys and all three horses were gone. With new found remorse, Hawk shook his head in quite despair.