THE SILVER SUN.

design, and Alan thought he might have heard of Hal's.

But he was not expecting the force of Blain's reaction.

The outlaw lurched toward him, almost leaning into the fire. "When?" he cried.

"What?" Alan nearly choked on his food.

"When will that vile Tower break? Already it cracks.

Tell me wheni" Blain's eyes stared wildly through the smoke.

"What do the songs say?" Alan softly threw the ques- tion back to him.

"Spring." Blain subsided to his seat "When outlaws march in light of day, and fires bum bright at end of May. Spring. This spring?"

"You have said yourself, the dark den cracks," Alan murmured, mindful of listeners. "Will you march, Blain?"

"I and my men, till we drop!" the outlaw promised fiercely. He leaned back with a sigh of admiration. "How clever of you and the Prince to have planned your tim- ing according to that song! And you have patterned your very shields after the old tales! You'll have every peasant in Isle ready to give his life for your cause,"

Alan stared at him, frowning uneasily. "The time was not of our planning," he said at last.

"As you say." Blain smiled eagerly, avoiding a dis- agreement. "Where should we march, my men and I?"

"Laueroc."

"Ah." Blain nodded, his narrow eyes glinting. "But more, my lord, tell me more of this Prince, and of your- self! We have need of hope, here."

"Make yourself some." Alan rose. "I will return an- other time to tell you more. But now I must hasten back to his side. I have been away from him too long."

Blain gave him escort out of the Westwood. Alan and Cory left the keen-edged outlaw at the last fringe of trees and hurried eastward. Their search for support had taken more time than they had wished. Though they Journeyed as quickly as they could, speeding back across Isle, July was nearly over when they entered the Forest once more.

They cantered toward Celydon, anxious to be reunited with their comrades, looking for Hal at every turn of the woodland trail. But as they neared their destination, they noted a cloud of dust above the trees, and heard the dis- tant clang of weapons.

The Dark Tower 207

"Nabon must be attacking sooner than expected," Alan muttered as they hastily buckled on their helms. "Do your best, Cory!"

The road to Celydon ran through a valley beneath a knifelike ridge. It was here that Ket had chosen to set his ambush. Alan and Cory urged their horses to the top and looked down on a raging battle. Ket had arranged a rock- slide, first, to divide the invading army. Now his outlaws, together with the guards from Celydon, struggled against the remaining invaders. Many of Nabon's men lay dead beneath the rocks or with tufted arrows in their throats, and the rest were trapped against the rocks and the steep slope; but they still numbered more than the forces of Celydon. Ket's men had laid aside their bows, fighting with the quarterstaff, and could do little except defend themselves and contain their enemy. Pelys's men killed, but they were bloodlet and tiring.

Alan and Corin thundered down the slope. Nabon's men were taken off guard, but the defenders were expect- ing something of the sort, and pressed the attack. The momentum of the charge broke Lee's defenses, and sev- eral invaders were killed. Aian circled Alfie and sent him into the jumble of rock. The horse climbed with the agility of a goat, and Corin's steed hesitantly followed his lead.

Though they were only two against many, Alan and Cory devastated the rear of the invaders' defenses, gaining great advantage from their height.

All was confusion now in the ranks of the enemy, for they did not know which way to turn. Celydon's forces cheered and attacked with renewed vigor, some of them joining Cory and Alan on the rocks. They wreaked havoc on the forces of Lee until, finding a gap where men had moved to climb the slope, Nabon's warriors fied as best they could, leaving their dead and wounded behind them.

Rafe was furious that they had escaped- "Forward!"

he cried fiercely. "Track the rats of Lee to their burrow!

Now is our chance to put down the menace to the South forever!"

"Softly!" retorted Will. "What would you do with Lee if you had it? Divide our lord's forces, peradventure, and leave him open to the attack of Gaunt? Or perhaps you expect Lord Pelys to leave Celydon and move to Lee?"

"Are we then to leave Nabon to attack us again in a year or two?" Rafe persisted hotly.

208 THE SILVER SUN.

"Have better hope," drawled Ket, limping to his side.

"Have ye not heard the whispers that fill the land?" Rafe stared, uncomprehending. But before he could speak, Alan rode up with a troubled face.

"Have any of you seen Hal?"

"He should have been here hours ago!" exclaimed Ket "He and Robin rode this morning to warn Celydon. D'ye think he would be dallying with the lady, at a time like this?"

"Some ill must have chanced," muttered Alan. He and Corin shot off before the others could express their con- cern.

They rode far apart, zigzagging in search, whistling to each other now and then to stay abreast. They had not gone a mile when Corin heard Alan's frightened cry. The sound came from a tree-lined knoll, and Corin hastened to the spot. He found Alan bending over Robin, listen- ing to his chest. "He is not so badly hurt," Alan said, trying to sound sure. Wrapping the still form in his cloak, he gently lifted it to the saddle before Corin. "Take him to the castle," he said- "I must find Hal." Cory left at the fastest pace he dared with his precious burden.

The other two bodies were those of kingsmen. They stirred and groaned. With averted eyes, Alan ran his sword through each. Then he mounted Alfie and set off at top speed on the plain trail that ran through the Forest, following the prints of horses' hooves. How many sets?

Eight? Ten? Even a dozen? He could not tell. From time to time the Forest mold was splashed with great clots and dashes of blood. Fiercely Alan told himself that it was not Hal's, but relentlessly the truth contradicted his hopes. Why else would Hal not lose his pursuers in a fox's maze of twisting tricks, as he had done so often be- fore? Because the biood trail made all such devices useless. The spoor led straight as an arrow toward White- water. What lay there? No friends outside the walls, though the kingsmen did not know that. In his time of need, Hal's concern bad been only to lead the enemy away from Robin, and Celydon, and from Ket's men, so exposed in battle. Bad luck, or worse than bad luck, that he had been attacked when there were none in the For- est to aid him! Alan cursed that luck bitterly as he sent Alfie at merciless speed along the trail.

By dusk, Alan had regained some measure of calm. He

The Dark Tower 209

stopped Alfie at a stream and let him sparingly drink as he forced himself to consider. Now that night was falling, what would Hal do? Alan knew his tactics almost as well as he knew his face. Darkness would hide the blood trail.

He could almost see Hal lifting Arundel out of the taota- lizmgly labored gallop to which he had held him all after- noon, letting the kingsmen know at last the speed of the dweller in the Eagle Valley, Like a gray ghost they would disappear into the darkness of the Forest; and then?

Surely Hal would make a wide circle and ride back to- ward Celydon, hoping that his enemies would continue on the straight line he had laid out. To circle to the north would be to trap himself against the Rushing River.

Surely he would circle to the south.

Unless he had already died, or been captured. Unless he no longer had strength to ride Arundel at his full speed. Alan pushed the thoughts from his mind. Though be felt he had gained on the kingsmen. they were still hours ahead. He could do nothing to binder them. But if Hal still had the strength to play the fox . . . there was a chance.

When he rode on again his pace was easier, and he bore to the right, leaving the trail he could scarcely see.

After he had ridden a couple of hours into the night, he began to pause from time to time. He would whistle a long, low tone, listen intently for a full minute, and then ride rapidly on.

It was not yet the mid of night when his whistle was answered by a distant neigh. He raced toward the sound, and tears of thankfulness and agony wet his face when he saw them. Arundel stood still, his silver flanks darkly blotted with blood. Under his nose lay the crumpled form that was Hal, fallen when his great strength had finally given out.

Alan fetched the flask, and soon Hal's head stirred in his lap. "Alan," he whispered, knowing even through the darkness who it was. "By the sweet Lady, I have missed you." Then his head fell limp again. "Hal!" Alan cried in panic, and felt frantically for his wrists. The flutter of life was still there. "Mireldeyn!" Alan called desperately, and felt Hal's body painfully respond. "Ay," Hal breathed through clenched teeth. Alan made him drink again from the flask before he spoke to him, and his voice shook.

210 THE SILVER SUN.

"Mireldeyn, for the sake of the love I bear you, I beg you-don't leave me!"

"Elwyndas," Hal breathed from afar, like the spirits of the barrow, "I am wounded to the death, and my life is torment in me."

"Try to live!" urged Alan, as sobs tightened his chest "If you love me-try!"

It was a long moment before Mireldeyn spoke. "As I love you, I will try my best. I give you my word."

With every pace of the long ride back, pain shot through Alan like that which filled the body he held be- fore him. Arundel limped behind, for he had taken a deep cut in the shoulder. Alan had spoken to him, telling him to fall behind and make his way to Celydon at his own pace. Still he would not leave his master.

The long night hours stretched themselves out into a black tunnel of pain which, somehow, had to be tra- versed.

Celydon castle was full of dead and wounded. Too many were friends, but most were from Lee. As Rosemary moved from bed to bed, wiping brows, giving water, she did not see the one she dreaded to find there; nor was he among the dead. Why, then, did he not come to her?