"The ambush and destruction of your former company is none of our doing," said the bard, "but I applaud those who brought your band so low. Now ready yourselves. We will find the prisoners who fled from you and tell them they are free. You will run before us – and woe to any who stumble, for they will not rise again! Thereafter, you will serve as our shield as we seek other survivors of your foul band."

The druid had rounded up the horses, numbering eleven now with the addition of those of the brigands, which were standing quietly with the coursers ridden by the adventurers. The six mounted, weapons unsheathed and ready. Trotting before them went the half-score outlaws, their hands thonged securely behind their backs. Just as they left the wooded area, however, they saw the former captives running toward them. The northern sky was dark, and an inky black cloud stained the horizon.

"Help! Help!" the women cried as they approached. A dozen giant ravens wheeled and croaked above the women, but something far worse had brought them to such a state of panic.

"We are friends!" called the druid. "Your former captors are now our prisoners. How can we help?" There was no hesitation. The dozen women and girls came directly up to the party, ignoring the brigands, who had been herded into a clump by Moon and Incosee. Gord noted that although they were dirty and worn, the former captives were all well-formed and good looking. Prime candidates for slavery indeed, the young thief thought. One of their number shouted for silence and spoke to Greenleaf.

"Gaunt horses come at us, druid, and terrible baying from inside the black mists. The riders are inhuman and the calls send terror to the marrow of the bone – these are yeth hounds!"

How she knew of these fell creatures, Greenleaf couldn't guess, but what she said seemed true enough. He gestured toward the riderless horses. "Each of these spare mounts will carry two of you," he said to the spokeswoman. "You will ride with me. And the girl," he continued, pointing to a frail brunette hardly more than a child, "rides behind that man there – Gord."

The frightened females complied readily. Gord said nothing, merely smiled and extended a hand to help her up.

"Your friends approach, I think," Gellor called to the ten brigands. "Run to greet them, or else we will ride you down and slay you all here and now!"

Two of the outlaws cried for mercy, and several others demanded to have their hands freed and be given weapons. A few blows with spear butt and sword flat silenced these pleadings and demands. The brigands began trotting away toward the gathering gloom, unwilling but afraid of the threat of instant death. The party sat for a moment, watching the men. When one started to turn back, Incosee leveled his spear and brought his horse forward at a trot. The brigand swerved and began loping toward the black fog again. His fellows likewise began running. Incosee turned his mount, and the whole party went away down the trail at a canter.

As they moved, Gord shouted to his fellows. "There are worse than the yeth in that doom. Hades has unleashed its whole pack!"

"What? How know you this?" Gellor called back with doubt.

"I could see into the blackness," Gord replied emphatically. "How? I know not, but the vision was as clear as if I saw through eagle eyes, it was so close."

"Never mind how," interrupted Greenleaf. "What did you see? "

The young thief grimly described his vision. "Many of the things I saw were unknown to me – great and malign creatures of foul aspect. I saw three men on nightgaunts… that name sprang into my brain as if placed there. They were the chiefest of the Hierarchs. Around them swarmed the hounds of Hades, yeth and more deadly dogs still. Hags and hulking giants marshalled a host of hobgoblins and lesser humanoids in their thousands. All were poised to march at the Hierarchs' command. Ravens and bats are the scouts and messengers of this evil horde, and they report our proximity even now."

"This is fearsome news," said the druid. "But your seeing was certainly granted to you by some power opposed to these hideous minions of Hades."

"What else did you see?" demanded Gellor, looking fixedly at Gord as they rode.

Gord met the one-eyed bard's piercing gaze. "The center-most of the three Hierarchs pointed southwest. The other two gestured. I saw dragonhide drums being beaten, and I felt the rumble through the very ground. On the other hand, iron horns were winded, and the ebon vapors seethed and billowed at the bellowing. They are advancing, but they seek something to the west of us. If we ride due south, we will avoid this terrible horde."

The others had heard the whole exchange. All looked at Gellor to see his reaction. He was silent for a minute, then spoke.

"We will follow this track until the women are safe. Then Patrick and his friend, Moon, will escort them onward. The rest of us will turn westward and ride to the coming battle, for more than our lives depends on it!"

Chapter 16

Blue Celene showed only her slender crescent high above amidst the myriad icy-colored lights that sprinkled the vast welkin in a crystalline wonder. The air was soft and warm, and the breeze smelled of night-flowering blooms and growing herbs. Across a prairie meadow dimly lit by the glimmerings of the heavens walked four men, leading tired horses. The extended wing of the Eldest Griffon pointed behind them to their left. From their occasional pauses to check this constellation, it was evident that the four were guided in their course by the stars. They traveled a little south of west, walking rapidly despite the lateness of the hour.

"Rest," Gellor told the others.

The druid heaved a grateful sigh, for the rotund half-elf was exhausted from traveling and spell-working. Gord, twenty years his junior, was too proud to utter any sound of relief, but he was just as glad for the pause. The wiry Flan warrior bringing up the rear seemed to stride on long, tireless legs, Incosee merely grunted acknowledgement, allowed the reins he held to drop, and sat squatting on his heels. His steed began grazing with its three fellows, snorting in pleasure as it tore mouthfuls of the dewy grass and consumed them.

"How long?" asked Gord.

Gellor spoke in a low voice. "Fifteen minutes – a half-hour if our pudgy friend insists, but no longer," he answered. "Those we seek to aid cannot be far distant. We are bound to do our utmost to find them."

"Whoever they are," added Greenleaf, as he stretched himself on the ground and placed his hands behind his head.

"At least we are not pursued by the yeth and their foul masters," Gord noted, "so there is much hope."

Curley Greenleaf harrumphed. "Not for those we seek. They have no such luxury, I fear, and if we should find them we must be prepared to face this malign enemy!"

"Quiet, you two! Who knows what might be listening!" Gellor was nervous and edgy to speak thus, and the three with him understood and refrained from comment thereafter.

Gord was dozing, a catnap where full alertness was but an eye-blink away. Greenleaf hummed between meditation and snore. Incosee had fallen into instant slumber. Only the one-eyed bard remained fully alert. His touch brought Gord to instant alertness. The young thief saw at once that Gellor had doffed his eyepatch, and his enchanted ocular glittered in the place where his normal eye had once been.

"Look there to the west, just above the horizon," he urged in a whisper. "What do you see?"

"Let me hold my sword," Gord answered quietly, reaching for the dweomered weapon.

Gellor's hand gripped his own. "No, just use your unaided vision, just as you did when you saw into the gloom yesterday. Tell me if you notice anything."