We came down into the lower lands with all the speed we could muster.  There the Renthan and those from the Valley awaited us.  It had been bright sunlight when we had begun that descent.  But when we reached the meeting place clouds were gathering.  Dahaun gave slight greeting to those from Estcarp - rather she turned her head from right to left, surveying the country.  About her flew, constantly coming and going, her winged messengers.

In part Kyllan and I felt, too, a lowering of spirit and a chill which was not born of the cloud sky nor the rising winds.  It was a foreboding which was folly to dismiss.

But those who had come overmountain were wearied, and among them were women and children for whom the climb and descent had been a trial of strength.  We should camp soon.

"We must ride!" Dahaun's gesture brought up the Renthan.  "This is no place in which to face the dark and that which may prowl there this night."

"And what may prowl?" demanded Kyllan.

"I do not know, for such lies now unseen to the eyes of my feathered ones.  Yet that it comes, I have no doubt."

Nor did we.  Even those from Estcarp, who had none of the gift, glanced now and then over their shoulders, and made a wall about their women folk.  And I saw that the Borderers went helmed, their mail scarves fastened high.

"These cannot make the Valley without a rest," I warned Dahaun.

She nodded.  "There is a place, not as far as I would like, but better than here."

She led us.  Under the clouds, she was all sable and silver, no longer red and gold.  We shared our mounts, taking up women and children with us for that riding.  A little maid, her hair close braided beneath a scarlet hood, her gloved hands holding tightly to my sword belt, went with me on Shil.

"Please, lord, where do we ride?"  Her voice was a clear pipe.

"To where the lady leads us."  I gave her the truth.  "This is her country and she knows it well.  I am Kemoc Tregarth, and who are you?"

"Loelle, of the House of Mohakar, Lord Kemoc.  Why do those birds fly with the lady?  Ah, that is no bird, it - it is a little man!"

One of the Flannan beat wings, hovering shoulder high beside Dahaun, while she turned her head to look at him.

"A Flannan, Loelle.  Have you not heard tales of them?"

I felt her grip grow tighter.  "But those - those are tales, Lord Kemoc!  Nurse Grenwel said they were but stories, not the truth!"

"In Escore, Loelle, many old stories are true.  Now, hold tight -"