srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第77章

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　a　southward　curve　toward　the　Retreat　to　keep　their　pursuers　as　far　as　possible　from　the　march　of　the　Warward。　Shortly　after　noon；　Troy　and　his　panions　crested　a　high　foothill　which　enabled　them　to　look　some　distance　north　into　the　Plains。　And　there；
　only　a　league　away；　they　saw　the　tattered；　fleeing　remnant　of　Quaan's　mand。
　At　first；　Troy　felt　a　thrill　of　relief。　He　could　see　Hiltmark　Quaan　riding　beside　his　standard…bearer　among　the　warriors。　At　least　sixscore　Bloodguard　galloped　among　the　Eoward。　And　the　blue　robes　of　Callindrill　and　Verement　were　clearly　visible　through　the　dark　surge　of　the　retreat。
　But　then　Troy　perceived　how　the　riders　were　moving。　They　were　almost　pletely　routed。　In　a　tight　mass　like　a　swath　of　panic　on　the　Plains；　they　pushed　and　jostled　against　each　other；　threw　frantic　glances　behind　them　in　ways　that　unbalanced　their　mounts；　bristled　with　angry　and　fearful　cries。　Some　of　them　whipped　their　horses。
　Behind　them；　the　kresh　ran　like　a　yellow　gale　scored　with　black。
　Nevertheless；　the　distance　between　the　warriors　and　the　wolves　remained　constant。　After　a　moment；　Troy　understood。　Quaan's　Eoward　were　struggling　to　match　exactly　the　hunting　pace　of　the　kresh。　The　wolves　themselves　could　not　maintain　a　dead　run。　They　were　forced　by　the　weight　of　their　riders；　and　by　the　long　distance　of　the　chase；　to　travel　at　the　swift；　loping　gait　of　a　hunting　pack。　And　Quaan's　warriors　fought　to　keep　their　flight　almost　directly　under　the　noses　of　the　wolves。　In　this　way；　they　lured　the　kresh　onward。　With　prey　so　near；　the　wolves　could　neither　rest　nor　turn　aside。
　Quaan's　strategy　was　cunning…cunning　and　fatal。　The　warriors　also　could　not　rest。　They　were　vulnerable　to　every　spurt　of　speed　from　the　kresh。　And　any　warrior　who　was　unseated　for　any　reason　was　instantly　torn　to　pieces。　Another　Eoward　had　already　been　lost　this　way。　But　if　Quaan　could　maintain　these　tactics；　the　marching　Eoward　would　have　until　late　afternoon　to　reach　their　positions　in　Doom's　Retreat。
　The　Warmark　did　not　bother　to　calculate　the　odds。　He　urged　Mehryl　ahead。　At　full　stretch；　the　Ranyhyn　raced　to　join　Quaan。
　When　they　saw　Troy　and　Lord　Mhoram；　the　warriors　gave　a　raw；　dry　cheer。　Quaan；　Callindrill；　and　Verement　dashed　out　toward　the　Warmark。　But　there　was　little　joy　in　their　reunion。　The　plight　of　the　Eoward　was　desperate。　When　he　drew　close　to　them；　Troy　saw　that　most　of　the　horses　were　virtually　prostrate　on　their　feet；　only　their　fear　of　the　wolves　kept　them　up　and　running。　And　the　warriors　were　in　no　better　condition。　They　had　ridden　for　days　without　proper　food　or　sleep。　None　of　them　lacked　injuries。　The　dust　of　the　Plains　clung　to　their　faces　and　clotted　their　wounds；　making　the　cuts　and　rents　look　like　premature　scars。　Troy　had　to　tear　his　aching　gaze　from　them　to　salute　the　Hiltmark。
　Through　the　thunder　of　the　hooves；　Quaan　shouted；　〃Hail；　Warmark！　Well　met！〃　As　Troy　swung　Mehryl　into　place　beside　him；　he　added；　〃Not　eight　days；　I　fear！〃
　〃Did　you　send　word　to　Amorine？〃　Troy　yelled。
　〃Yes！〃
　〃Then　it's　all　right！　Seven　will　be　enough！〃　He　clapped　the　Hiltmark's　shoulder；　then　slowed　Mehryl；　and　dropped　back　among　the　warriors。
　Immediately；　dust　and　fear　and　tension　swirled　around　him　like　the　hot　breath　of　the　kresh。　Now　he　could　hear　the　hunting　snarl　of　the　wolves；　and　the　roynish　barking　of　the　ur…viles。　He　felt　their　presence　as　if　they　were　his　fault…as　if　they　had　been　created　by　his　folly。　Yet　he　forced　himself　to　smile　at　his　warriors；　shout　encouragement　through　the　din。　He　could　not　afford　self…recrimination。　The　burden　of　saving　the　Warward　was　on　his　shoulders　now。
　Moments　later；　a　surge　ran　through　the　barking　mands　of　the　ur…viles。　Troy　guessed　that　the　pursuers　were　about　to　attempt　another　spurt。
　He　looked　ahead　quickly　toward　the　sheer　cliffs　of　Doom's　Retreat。　They　were　no　more　than　two　leagues　away。　There　the　western　tip　of　the　Southron　Range　swung　northward　to　meet　the　southeast　corner　of　the　mountain　wedge　which　separated　the　South　Plains　from　Garroting　Deep；　and　between　these　two　ranges　was　the　defile　of　Doom's　Retreat。　The　narrow　canyon
　lay　like　a　gash　through　the　rock；　and　its　crooked　length　provided　the　Land's　only　access　to　the　Wastes　and　the　Gray　Desert。
　Troy's　gaze　sprang　to　the　mouth　of　the　canyon。
　The　last　marching　Eoward　were　still　arriving　at　the　Retreat。
　If　they　were　not　given　more　time；　they　would　be　caught　outside　the　canyon　by　the　kresh。　Their　ambush　would　fail。
　The　Warmark　was　moving　too　swiftly　for　hesitation。　When　he　was　sure　that　the　Warward　had　been　Quaan's　riders；　he　pushed　Mehryl　ahead；　away　from　the　kresh；　and　caught　the　Hiltmarks'　attention　with　a　wave　of　his　arm。　Then　he　gave　Quaan　a　hand　signal　which　ordered　the　Eoward　to　turn　and　attack。
　Quaan　did　not　falter；　he　understood　the　need　for　the　order。　Despite　the　maimed　condition　of　his　mand；　he　sent　up　a　shrill；　piercing　whistle　which　drew　the　eyes　of　his　officers　toward　him。　With　hand　signals；　he　gave　the　Hafts　and　Warhafts　their　instructions。
　Almost　at　once；　the　riders　responded。　The　outer　Eoward　peeled　back；　and　the　warriors　in　the　center　tried　to　turn　where　they　were。　Frantically；　they　fought　their　horses　around　to　face　the　wolves。
　Disaster　struck　the　maneuver　immediately。　As　soon　as　the　riders　stopped　fleeing；　kresh　crashed　in　among　them。　The　whole　trailing　edge　of　Quaan's　mand　went　down　under　the　onslaught；　and　the　ur…vile　loremasters　whirled　their　iron　staves；　throwing　acid　power　gleefully　over　the　fallen　humans　and　horses。　The　screaming　of　the　horses　shot　through　the　tumult　of　snarls　and　cries。　Instantly；　a　wide　swath　of　gray…green　bracken　turned　blood…red。
　But　the　abrupt　profusion　of　corpses　broke　the　charge　of　the　kresh。　Their　leaders　stopped　to　kill　and　tear　and　eat；　and　this　threw　the。　following　wolves　into　confusion。　Only　the　ur…vile　wedges　drove　straight　ahead；　into　the　milling　heart　of　the　Eoward。
　Bloodguard　raced　to　the　aid　of　the　warriors。　The　three　Lords　threw　themselves　at　the　nearest　ur…viles。　Other　warriors　rallied　and　struck。　And　through　the
　center　of　the　fight　Warmark　Troy　charged　like　a　madman；　hacking　at　every　wolf　within　reach。
　For　a　time；　the　kresh　were　held。　The　warriors　fought　with　a　desperate　fury；　and　the　cool　Bloodguard　broke　wolves　in　all　directions。　Working　together；　the　Lords　blasted　one　ur…vile　wedge　apart；　then　another。　But　that　accounted　for　only　a　tenth　of　the　mounted　ur…viles。　The　others　regrouped；　began　to　restore　order；　coordination；　to　the　kresh。　Some　of　the　horses　lost　their　footing　on　the　slick　ground。　Others　went　out　of　control　with　fear；　threw　their　riders；　and　lost　themselves　in　futile　plunges　among　the　wolves。
　Troy　saw　that　if　any　of　the　warriors　were　to　survive　this　fight　they　would　have　to　flee　soon。
　He　battled　his　way　toward　the　Lords。　But　suddenly　a　whole　pack　of　kresh　swirled　about　him。　Mehryl　spun；　dodging　the　fangs　and　kicking。　Troy　fought　as　best　he　could；　but　Mehryl's　whirling　unbalanced　him。　Twice　he　almost　lost　his　seat。　A　wolf　leaped　up　at　him；　and　he　barely　saved　himself　by　jabbing　his　sword　into　its　belly。
　Then　Ruel　brought　other　Bloodguard　to　his　aid。　In　a　concerted　charge；　ten　of　them　hammered　into　the　pack；　shattered　it。　Troy　righted　himself；　tried　uselessly　to　straighten　his　missing　sunglasses；　then　cursed　himself　and　sent　Mehryl　toward　the　Lords　again。
　As　he　moved；　he　snapped　a　glance　at　the　Retreat。　The　last　of　the　marchers　were　just　disappearing　down　the　canyon。
　〃Do　something！〃　he　howled　when　he　neared　Lord　Mhoram。　〃We're　being　slaughtered！〃
　Mhoram　spun　and　shouted　to　Callindrill　and　Verement；　then　returned　to　the　Warmark。　〃On　my　signal！〃　he　yelled　over　the　din。　〃Flee　on　my　signal！〃　Without　waiting　for　a　reply；　he　pushed　his　Ranyhyn　into　a　gallop　and　dashed　toward　the　Retreat　with　the　other　Lords。
　In　a　hundred　yards；　they　separated。　Verement　stopped　directly　between　the　conflict　and　the　Retreat；　while　Mhoram　raced　straight　north　and　Callindrill　ran　south。　When　they　were　in　position；　they　formed　a　long　line　across　the　approach　to　Doom's　Retreat。
　They　dismounted。　Lord　Verement　held　his　staff　upright　on　the　ground　in　the　center　as　Mhoram　and　Callindrill　whirled　their　staffs　and　shouted