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re midafternoon tomorrow； it'll be wasted。〃
Mhoram nodded。 He braced himself on Terrel's shoulder； and stumbled away along the ledge with Troy and Ruel behind him。
They made slow progress at first because of Mhoram's fatigue； but before long they reached a small； pine…girdled valley plentifully grown with aliantha。 A breakfast of treasure…berries rejuvenated Lord Mhoram； and after that he moved more swiftly。
Behind Mhoram and Terrel； with Ruel at his back； Troy traveled on an urgent wind； a pressure for haste； that threatened to bee a gale。 He was eager to reach the Ranyhyn。 When they met Tull and the other Bloodguard on their way up the trail； he mounted Mehryl at once； and hurried the Ranyhyn into a brisk trot back toward Mithil Stonedown。
He intended to ride straight past the village to the Plains； where the Ranyhyn could run。 However； as he and his panions approached the Stonedown； he saw the Circle of elders waiting beside the trail。 Reluctantly； he stopped and saluted them。
〃Hail； Warmark Troy；〃 Terass Slen…mate replied。
〃Hail； Lord Mhoram。 We have heard some of the tidings of war； and know that you must make haste。 But Triock son of Thuler would speak with you。〃
As Terass introduced him； Triock stepped forward。
〃Hail； elders of Mithil Stonedown；〃 Mhoram responded。 〃Our thanks again for your hospitality。 Triock son of Thuler； we will hear you。 But speak swiftly…time presses heavily upon us。〃
〃It is no great matter；〃 said Triock stiffly。 〃I wish only to seek pardon for my earlier conduct。 I have reason for distress； as you know。 But I kept my Oath of Peace at Atiaran Trell…mate's behest； at a time when I sorely wished to break it。 I have no wish to dishonor her courage now。
〃It was my hope。 that Trell Gravelingas would stay with the High Lord…to protect her。〃 He said this defiantly； as if he expected Mhoram to reprimand him。 〃Now he is not with her…and I am not with her。 My heart fears this。 But if it were possible； I would take back my harshness to you。〃
〃There is no need for pardon；〃 Mhoram answered。 〃My own weak faith provoked you。 But I must tell you that I believe Thomas Covenant to be a friend of the Land。 The burden of his crime hurts him。 I believe he will seek atonement at the High Lord's side。〃
He paused； and Triock bowed in a way that said he accepted the Lord's words without being convinced。 Then Mhoram went on； 〃Triock son of Thuler； please accept a gift from me…in the name of the High Lord； who is loved by all the Land。〃 Reaching into his robe； he brought out his lomillialor rod。 〃This is High Wood； Triock。 You have been in the Loresraat； and will know some of its uses。 I will not use it again。〃 He said this with a resolution that surprised Troy。 〃And you will have need of it。 I am called seer and oracle…I speak from knowledge； though the need itself is closed to me。 Please accept it…for the sake of the love we share…and as expiation for my doubt。〃
Triock's eyes widened； and the twisting of his face relaxed briefly。 Troy caught a glimpse of what Triock might have looked like if his life had not been blighted。
In silence； he accepted the rod from Lord Mhoram's hands。 But when he held the High Wood； his old bitterness gripped his features again； and he said dourly； 〃I may find a use which will surprise you。〃 Then he bowed； and the other elders bowed with him； freeing Mhoram and Troy to be on their way。
Troy threw them a salute； and took his opportunity。 He had no time to spare for Mhoram's strange gift； or for Triock's brooding promises。 Instead； he clapped Mehryl with his heels。 and led his panions out of the valley of Mithil Stonedown at a gallop。
In a short time； they rounded the western spur of the mountains； and swung out into the Plains。 As Troy scanned his panions； he was surprised to see that Tull's mount could keep up the pace。 This Ranyhyn had been ridden through danger at cruel speeds for the past eight days； and the strain had wounded its gait。 But it was a Ranyhyn； its head was up； its eyes were proud； and its matted mane jumped on its neck like a flag gallantly struggling to unfurl。 For a moment； Troy understood why the Ramen did not ride。 But he made no concessions to the Ranyhyn's fatigue。 Throughout the day； he kept his pany running like rapid thunder into the west。
He ached to join his warriors； to share the fight and the desperation with them； to show them the one way in which they might be able to steal a victory out of the teeth of Lord Foul's army。 Only an exigent need for sleep forced him to stop during part of the night。
Ruel awakened him before dawn； and he rode on again along the base of the Southron Range。 When daylight returned his vision to him； he could see the cliffs near Doom's Retreat ahead。 Now his direct route to the Retreat would take him angling rapidly closer to the vanguard of Lord Foul's army。 But he kept his heading。 Near that horde of kresh and ur…viles； he would find whatever was left of the mounted Eoward。
He caught sight of Quaan's force sooner than he had expected。 The Hiltmark must have taken his riders on 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 th