Commmander Hunt was waiting for them at the border post. He rode out to the returning party as they descended the same path they had set out along four days previously.

Sent out six and now I’ve got seven,” he said to Luke. “Maybe I should take up farming.”

Luke told him about the bandits and recounted the one-sided battle, destined to go into military legend as the first ever involving horses. Then he summoned the boy and told the commander his history.

“It’s not uncommon for freed captives to serve Rah but it does require a deal of loyalty and training.” Commander Hunt look the boy up and down, checking his face while looking for signs of injury or disease. “You are from the western country so you will be tested. It will be for life. Your personal emblem will be tattooed onto your shoulder and can never be removed. You will spend three months training and mastering our language before deciding which force you will fight in.”

“I know already who I fight for. I fight for Luke. I ride big black terten in mountains. How you call it, Horse?”

Suppressing the urge to laugh at the boy's naivety the commander called in one of the guards. “The prisoner is to be given an emblem and tattoo in service of Rah.”

“What is his name?”

“Thomas.”

“Place name?”

“Gat,” said Thomas.

“Gat has the goat as its symbol but it would be pejorative in this country,” said Luke. “You can copy my deer it would be preferable, it is common enough.”

The commander thought a few seconds about this. Luke realised he did not want in-groups forming. An Athelean faction would be dangerous, not least to its own members.

“How about a horse?” asked Luke. “No one has that yet.”

“That’ll do.” He turned to the guard. “When we get to base get a tattooist to draw it up and show it to me for approval before they begin the operation.”

When the guard had left the hut taking Thomas, the commander turned to Luke.

“I hope you know what you’re doing. Don’t be headstrong with a wild chance.”

“It is a time, sir, when we have to take risks. I have taken many already. It will get harder and we need to make many opportunities out of everything that happens.”

“Don’t push the gods too far, Luke. When night comes you are still a westerner.”

Debriefing took most of the day so the party stayed at the post overnight. Next day they set off back to the south country. Travelling closer to the coast where the going was easier they exercised the horses part of the way and reached the cliff below the bandits’ cave in under three hours. It was not easy to find from the new perspective and Peter was the first to spot it.

“It’s a lot further back than it seemed from the top. Nearly a full league from the sea. But over to the right, that’s the bottom of the valley we camped in the night before the attack. And almost at the top is the cave opening.”

“That makes it easy,” said Luke. “We just take the horses up the streambed and wait for Stefan. We could go in and examine the cave to see if anyone has been back. But I imagine it smells horrible.”

*

Well into the afternoon of the next day they saw a black horse descending the valley which led from the source of the stream, Luke knew from the map it reached up nearly to Halfway House. The rider was unlikely to have come from so close to the border, his home was probably in the long range of hills to the east. Making no attempt at concealment the horse headed down towards the cliff edge, pulling up sharply and turning when the rider realised a contingent of horsemen had come out of hiding and were tailing him. He reached for a weapon then thought better of it.

“Dismount in the presence of officers of Rah,” commanded Luke in the Elenean language.

“Rah who?” The horse edged forward so its head brushed against Luke’s horse. The rider faced Luke squarely in the eye. Luke could smell the man’s beard. He held up his hand, showing a ring with Hartor’s emblem.

Luke held out his own hand in reply. The Band Of Gold wooden ring with Rah’s insignia on the middle finger and Hartor’s metal ring on the fourth. “Stefan,” he said. “My name is Luke.”

“Luke. Is it you who take all my little cubbies away?”

Luke said nothing. Looking over to a grove of trees he saw a flock of carrion birds circling overhead. It was normal practice not to bury bandits.

“You take them all? Even my little baby, Toth? He very nice boy. not bandit at all. You take all bandit, I no care. But Toth, he ride my Figor when I visit. I take him soon, I think, to see brother. But now no good. He die. Brother probably die soon too, I think. I see Hartor now, tell him what happen.”

“We shall come with you,” said Luke.

“You never keep up with Figor. You ride woman terten.”

Luke’s attention had been so fixed on the rider that he had hardly noticed the horse. Even without looking down it was obviously a male.

“Your horse is a bull.”

“Bull terten is stallion. You call ipo in Athelea. Yes I know you work for Rah but you from Lodge, you raise your hand like this when you give order. Figor very fine. Stefan catch him, tame him, ride him. No one else touch him.”

Luke dismounted and took a close look at the animal. It smelt different, looked stronger and fiercer. He reached out to touch it and it backed away, jolting its rider.

“I tell you. No one else touch it. Only Stefan. And Toth. He dead.”

Luke shook his head. That news could wait for later. “You tamed him yourself?” His mind already turning over the possibilities.

“I tame him myself. Maybe one day I show you how. You give me big reward, yes?”

“I’ll give you plenty of reward, you bandit,” said Luke. “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it. And lead us to Hartor. I want to speak to him.”

“You no say, ‘I want speak to Hartor.’ In mountains Hartor say, ‘I want speak to Luke.’ Hartor rule Trantrith like Rah rule Elenea. He say, man do. Unless man is Wolf. And you not Wolf.”

“You tell Hartor Luke has come. Then he will tell you that he wants to see me. Lead the way and we’ll follow.”

“I think you Luke of Cano. Hartor tell me stories, he think you dead. He be pleased to see you. Follow me if you can on you girl terten.” Stefan turned his horse and started off at a run. Luke mounted and they all charged in pursuit. The big stallion was used to fast travel in open terrain and soon outdistanced them.

“Well where do we go now?” Luke aimed the rhetorical question at himself, but Peter soon spotted a black shape half way up a hill some two leagues distant.

“There he is. He’s waving us to come on.” They started again, beginning to tire of the chase. When they reached the top of the hill Stefan was once more nowhere to be seen. The white caps of Trantrith rose clear against the blue sky in front of them.

By twists and turns Stefan led them into the mountains, appearing miraculously each time they found themselves lost. The scale of the gorges took them by surprise, only Luke having even limited experience of mountains, and once they had lost their sense of direction it was difficult even to know what time of day it was. A cold wind grew as they headed higher.

“Why is he leading us all around like this?” asked Leo in exasperation. “For all we know he could have led us around the same mountain three times.”

“He probably has,” said Luke. “It wouldn’t do him much good to lead a party of Rah’s soldiers by the shortest route to Hartor’s front door. Ah, there he is again. Once more around the mountain, perhaps.”

Dusk was turning to dark as they trekked up the bed of a sharp gully. Reaching the top with some difficulty they saw the ground illuminated only by starlight and crescent moon, reflected off snowy peaks high above.

“Now you walk,” said Stefan, reappearing from the rocks. “Follow close behind me.”

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Leading the horses in single file along a ridge between two mountains, sharp sides descended into the unseen night on either side. The horses did not like the terrain and often their hooves sent stones skimming down the sides, the sound of accelerating descent fading into the distance. At the far side of the pass a large hollow was occupied by several houses. Luke could hear the sound of a stream. The scent of smoke made him feel suddenly hungry and unbearably tired.

“You stay here tonight,” said Stefan. “I go tell Hartor.” Luke could hardly help admiring their guide’s stamina.

An unoccupied brush cottage stood separately from a group of four. They tied the horses to the doorposts and piled in.

“Who’s going to stand first watch tonight?” asked Luke.

“Watch?” said Leo. “I thought ...”

“Well volunteered. Yes, of course we need a watch. We don’t want to wake up in the morning to find the horses gone. Or even we don’t wake up. Mount and we’ll bring dinner out to you. This is the last of our food apart from emergencies, hope we get hospitality from our new hosts. Take three hours each. Hamet you need to sleep. We’ll wake you in two hours for your dinner.”

They built a fire carefully in the stone grate at the end of the hut and gazed idly at the stew as it simmered in the clay pot they found nearby. Luke turned to Peter in a low voice.

“Do you think this is all going to work?”

“All what?”

“This idea of visiting Hartor. Is it such a good thing?”

“Well it was your idea. It must have seemed good at the time.”

“Yes. I never thought we’d be so much at their mercy. I thought it would simply be a forest rendezvous. We don’t know where we are. They could rob and kill us at any time. This Stefan, he seems well trained.”

“Not surprising. Did you notice his insignia? I managed to see three of his tattoos - a deer, a pair of mountains and an eagle. He must have been in a few different forces in his time.”

“A deer? But that’s the emblem of the Lodge.” Luke rolled up his sleeve to show the deer symbol tattooed onto his upper arm.

They had dinner and stretched out on the wooden floor. Luke’s mind was still working.

“If we get to see Hartor tomorrow it could be the most important day of my life.”

“Pardon?” Peter was already half asleep.

“Oh, nothing. I just hope I get it right.”

*

Stefan returned at first light. Sen, standing watch, woke the group to receive the news. Stefan seemed irritatingly fresh and vigorous, despite that he must have been up most of the night. Dismounting he released the largest of Luke’s mares and tied the stallion to the vacant post. Studying his horse for a few minutes he pronounced himself satisfied.

“Is good mares not in season. Else Figor cause trouble.” He leapt onto the mare, diminutive under his bulk. Calling two men who materialised from one of the cottages he gave instructions in a language Luke had never heard before. The men looked down the valley with despair.

“Looks like they’ve been detailed to fetch food for the horses,” Leo muttered to Kai. “Rather them than me.”

“I think they probably have the easier job,” murmured Kai in reply. They saw Luke approaching.

“Make up one pack each. We’ll be on foot so we need waterbags for this journey. This may be the last stream we see.”

Despite Luke’s protests they had no choice but to leave the horses in the care of the mountain dwellers. Luke shrugged it off, it would be no good on the horses’ feet when they crossed the snowline even though the layer seemed very thin. If necessary they could get home without them and new ones would not be so hard to find and only a little more effort to train. Following a mountain ridge for several miles they passed above the snow three times as they skirted sharp peaks. Their shoes which were so effective on lowland treks allowed the melting ice to penetrate cruelly, and Luke suggested Peter might like to try and steal Stefan’s boots to see how they were designed. When the ridge finally came to an end they stopped for lunch.

“What do we do now?” asked Kai.

Stefan pointed half way down the mountain, where a large lake was poised on a rocky slope.

“I hope Hartor doesn’t live underwater,” observed Luke dryly.

“No,” said Sen. “Those trees on the rim of the bowl aren’t the scraggy mountain trees we’ve seen today. They’re forest trees brought up from the lowlands. They must be hiding something.”

“We could have searched these mountains for a hundred years,” said Luke. “We would never have found them here. But even so I have a feeling I know where we are.”

Walking down the mountain slopes proved even more arduous than ascending, and their feet were blistered as they approached the lake. Four men came out to meet them, searching their bags and clothes and removing anything that could conceivably be used as a weapon. They were taken down to the houses and as looking under the cover of the trees Luke immediately recognised the place. A pair of dogs came out to greet them, Luke stood stiffly staring at them but allowed them to sniff and paw all over.

The largest house was a set of interconnected cabins. Each made from split trunks of young trees laid horizontally with the rounded side facing outwards and lashed together with vines. Small single block doors securely tied to round posts. It was exactly as Luke remembered from his journey to the mountains as a young boy. There might have been a little building work since then but in essence it was all the same. At one end a stone firewall with careful ducting to send smoke out while keeping heat in. And tiles on the roof that could only come from buildings of the Old Ones. The Lodge was the only building he had seen that could match up to the design. Inside, as he remembered, there was furniture, not just a couple of stone slabs for seats or tables but chairs painstakingly carved from single trunks. The old man had sat in one of these, it was still in the main room though the man himself had disappeared.

“Luke!”

Luke jumped out of his reverie and stood to his feet. The figure at the door was even more imposing in his winter furs than he had been on the forest trail three years previously. Luke thought he had put on some weight. Hartor strode over and embraced his captive guest.

“How are you, my friend? I hope Stefan hasn’t made your journey too difficult. Are you comfortable here?”

“Yes, thank you. You are very hospitable. Well stocked provisions, beds and a fire. And no draughts. Your house is very well built.”

“We pride ourselves on quality. We have many of these. We’re not just a load of old bandits, you know. This house was rebuilt by your grandfather. He lived here forty years.”

“Forty years? What,... when ...?”

“After the Mountain Wars he was expelled from his home village by his brother. I was a boy then, and he educated me. He died five years ago, in a snowstorm.”

“So was he the old man I ...”

“Yes. Of course. He wanted to meet you but we didn’t want too much news getting out at the time. Come on, we’ll talk about it later. How do you like my command of the Elenean language? Better than I could manage in Athelean last time we met.”

“Your accent is just like people who have lived in Kingston City. Rakir, that is. Very refined. Who taught you?”

“I’ve been learning it for three years. After I met you on the way to Elenea I thought I had better keep up. I’ve had plenty of teachers. Believe it or not, quite a few Eleneans have visited me recently. Some of them come to stay, fleeing the turmoils of the south. They’ve been very useful to me. Are you staying, or are you on official business?”

“We shall be returning east once we have finished our visit. Perhaps tomorrow?”

“You can stay five days. He stretched out the fingers of one hand.”

“I guess we can hardly take leave of our own accord,” said Luke.

“No, you would not find your way out very easily. Three sides lead to cliffs, and the way you came is a maze known only to a few men. You’ll have to back that way, of course, to get your horses. Speaking of which, I have to apologise for the rough treatment we gave you last time we met. You can have your horse back if you like. One of them died after foaling. In exchange for the mare Stefan rode here.”

Luke had mixed feelings at the thought of regaining on of his own but losing a trained military horse. “Is she here?” he asked hopefully.

“You can see her tomorrow. She is with her children. Now, where is my present?”

Luke was taken aback. He wondered what was in his pack, but everything of value had been left behind or confiscated. He looked at the others. Leo was already opening his pack.

“Here,” he said, removing a small flask. “Try this. We haven’t had a chance to sample it yet.”

Hartor unstopped the top and sniffed the contents. He smiled in appreciation. Fetching a small cup he poured a little of the liquid into it. He gave it to Leo.

“Here, drink”

Leo hesitated, not sure of himself.

“Drink. You expect me to drink it, don’t you?”

Luke suddenly realised what was on Hartor’s mind. He nodded to Leo who knocked the liquor down his throat with satisfaction. When it was evident that he had not suffered any ill effects Hartor took back the cup and drank a little, coughing with surprise at the strength of the brew.

“Are you sure you haven’t done anything to this,” he asked as the glow spread through his body.

“No, we all drink this in Elenea,” said Luke.

“In that case I think we may be able to do a deal. Thank you. This is a very good present.” He replaced the stopper and got up to return to his own house.

At dinner Luke was surprised to discover that Hartor possessed a wife and four children. Then chided himself that he should not have been surprised at all. The eldest daughter Ruth was seated opposite him at the table. None of the family spoke Elenean well so it was up to Hartor to keep the guests entertained. But it soon became obvious to Luke that Ruth was not intending to use words to talk to him.

After dinner she presented him personally with a cup of strong coffee, better even that the ranggia of Elenea. As soon as she could, she manoeuvred him to an alcove out of sight of the rest.

“Luke, you stay?”

“No. I have to return home in five days.”

“Ah, Luke. I want you stay. I no see many man here in mountains.”

Luke shook his head. “No good. I must go. I already have a wife. Anyway there are many men here.” Ruth looked disappointed and went back to join the others.

*

Luke had just dropped off to sleep when he was woken by someone nudging him and whispering urgently. Drowsily he opened his eyes to see Peter standing there.

“What do you want at this time of night?”

“Here.” He held up a pair of boots.

“What?”

“They’re Stefan’s. I thought we’d have a look at them while he’s still here.”

“Is that all. Oh, I suppose so.” He got up and they went into the main room, the fire still glowing. Peter seemed disappointed at the unenthusiastic response. Luke took one of the shoes in his hand and held it against the light. He inserted his left hand into the interior.

“Well it’s leather inside, as normal, both upper and sole. It has a skin stitched around the outside, which is obviously waterproof, but that won’t help the sole. The bottom of the sole is just hardened leather. No different from ours, is it?”

Peter took the other boot, inspecting the sole. He scratched it and sniffed it, doing the same with his own shoe. “No,” he said, “it’s different. You compare the two.”

“Yes,” said Luke. “They’ve treated it with something, obviously to make it waterproof.” He tried to twist the hard leather in his fingers and held it up against the heat of the fire. Peter fetched a knife but it was too blunt to gouge out a piece of the leather. In desperation he tried chewing the material.

“It’s sort of fatty,” he said, “a bit like fried feathers.”

“Like what? Kids today, I worry for the next generation. What did you say? Fried? Of course. Of course. I never would have considered it. That solves the problem, doesn’t it? Quick, take them back now. We can do experiments in our own time when we get back. If Hartor finds out he’ll be suspicious and not allow us to leave.”

“Don’t worry, Luke. We’ve got plenty of time. I’ll just have to make sure no one’s about first.”

Luke went back to bed. He had just dropped off to sleep when he was woken once again by someone disturbing the covers.

“Peter, is that you again?”

“Luke. No is not Peter. You want Peter?” It was a woman’s voice. He woke immediately.

“Ruth, what are you doing ...”

Giving way to the inevitable he lifted the bedclothes and let her in.