‘I suggest that you put up your sword,’ Finli said, quietly, ‘and be on your way.’ He smiled his bland smile. ‘As you say, this is a dangerous road. Who knows what may happen?’
Afraid now, her eyes enormous, feeling uncomfortably conspicuous, Satu had sat fidgeting beside the old Elf and watched as the soldiers left.
‘You see,’ the Merchant said, turning to her, ‘what might have happened if it was other than old Finli who chanced to come down the road?’
‘Satu!’
She had nearly jumped out of her skin. It was her mother, who stood at the edge of the road. She approached the wagon fearlessly as Finli handed Satu down to her.
Her mother and Finli then exchanged a relieved, knowing smile.
As soon as Finli left, however, Satu had received such a scolding . . .
‘I fear that what was meant to be military prudence has instead been transformed by Fate into folly,’ Finli said, as he and Doc made their way to the Communications tent where the message runners and their coordinating officers resided. He moved quickly, with a deceptively fluid gait, for such a big man, and Doc found himself hard-pressed to keep up. ‘Birin should have waited for the Thane to determine both the Enemy’s movements and the means of our defence. Instead, he and his forces stand unprepared in the face of odds which he has sorely miscalculated. At the least, he should have sought out the advice, if not the aid, of those of us from the second settlement. We could have augmented his force greatly, from the very beginning. Now it seems that we must ride to his rescue.’