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Alassar could feel the expectancy of his Captains rising as he studied the slow-moving figures in the distance. All manner of colour, size and form were present, and individual standards could be picked out from the chaos that was an army on the move, even at a league away. He found that many of their designs were known to him, although he doubted the bearers were those he remembered.
Suddenly weary, Alassar closed his eyes, finding the cool breeze refreshing. It would be pleasant, he thought, if he could count all of his enemies upon his own fingers.
"My Lord?"
Alassar turned in his saddle, an expression of regret on his face. Arwin regarded him steadily. "What think you, Arwin, Captain of Horse?" asked the Elf Prince softly.
"I think there are too many, my Lord."
Balannor sighed. "Is that not always the way?"
Alassar smiled and returned his attention to the horizon, his thoughts distant. The Kraken Wakes would be in Lothern now, and he missed the sounds and smells of that busiest of ports. A Lotherni I will always be, he reminded himself - and yet... commanding a patrol such as this, with horse and chariot, Reaver and Silver Helm, lent him almost the same freedom as the open sea.
"They will be at the bluff within the hour," offered Corwin, interrupting his thoughts. "We must move, and move quickly; they are already ahead of us."
Bel-Talinh looked amused. "Are you eager for battle, my friend?"
"Corwin is right," said Callarion grimly. "Once past the bluff it is open sward and they will reach Tor Anroc within days. An army of that size could sack the city in moments!"
Alassar turned to his Captains, his face set. "Our horses are swift; our lances stronger yet. They will not reach the sward."
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