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back in the Vale. Do you hear?" But Tam heard a noise from the wood, "They are behind us!" he whispered. The sound had not gone unnoticed by the men on the bridge. One of them called out, and Alaan answered as though he were a friend. And then he burst out into the open. Three men in dark surcoats stood at the bridgehead, swords and iron helms glinting in the starlight. Alaan didn't hesitate but was upon them, crying out as he swung his blade. The men did not stand their ground but fell away, one stumbling and falling to his knees. Alaan's sword flashed in the starlight and the fallen man sprawled facedown and did not move. A second man lost his sword and jumped back, clasping a hand to his arm, shouting in panic. Alaan drove the last man off the bridge and shouted to the Valemen.” Cross over. Quickly! Don't wait for me." Fynnol did not need to be urged and dashed onto the bridge.
    Baore looked back over his shoulder, as though he would not leave Alaan alone, but Tarn pushed him ahead, and the two bolted onto the span behind Fynnol.
    "Not our fight," Tam managed as they went, but the sounds of shouting and struggle behind made him wonder if they did the right thing. If Alaan was an outlaw, why had he sent them on and stayed to block the bridge?
    Tam stopped, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and let fly | at the men swarming down onto the bridge. And then another and a third. A shaft sparked off the stone balustrade a foot from Tam, prompting Baore to grab Tam by the shoulder and drag him on.
    The last sight he had was of the brigands hacking terribly at a figure down on the stone, his cloak fluttering in the breeze and cold starlight.
    Then the men rallied and rushed out onto the bridge, chain mail ringing dully at each step. Tam and Baore ran. But as they reached the far bank they heard men pounding down the old road toward them.
    "After me," Tam hissed, and plunged into the underwood. There was a steep path that led down to the river here. Even knowing where it was, Tam had trouble staying on the trail. He was sure that anyone unfamiliar with it wouldn't dare try to follow.
    In a few moments they were on a sloping rock at the water's edge, where they bent double trying to catch their wind. They could hear men above them calling out and others on the bridge answering. Then an arrow glanced off the rock by Fynnol's foot.
    "They're shooting from the bridge!" he yelled, leaping back into the shadow of the cliff. Something trundled through the bush, and then a good-sized rock splashed into the river. Arrows continued to fall.
    Fynnol did not wait to consider the best course of action but plunged into the water, pulling himself along the cliff, struggling to keep his feet beneath him on the slippery stones.
    "They're still coming down," Baore gasped as he jumped in after Fynnol. Tam spent two arrows shooting up at the men on the bridge, and followed the others into the water. He regretted leading them to the river now. If they went downstream with the current, the men on the bridge would likely shoot them as they passed, but to struggle upstream against the flow was going to be possible only for a while. He heard the first man land on the rock at the water's edge and more coming. With some effort Tam had kept his bowstring dry.” Steady me!" he said to Baore, and felt one strong hand take hold of his clothing at his back. Tam let go of the rock, but Baore would not let the current carry him away. He nocked an arrow and shot at the man he could just see, not twenty paces off. He heard the man cry out, and saw his shadow fall. A second man appeared, crouching on the rock. Tam shot again, and this man scrambled back up the path, out of sight. Tam gave his treasured yaka bow to the river then, and turned to follow the others. He could hear them breathing fast ahead of him, coughing up mouthfuls of the cold, metallic river. Cursing in their panic. Up, Tam thought. We have to go up. The cliff was striated and cracked, with hardy