But Grinsa was struck by the route they seemed to have taken.

"They came from the north," Q'Daer said, sounding as confused as Grinsa felt. "They followed the river. And then they… they turned to the east."

"That's how it looks to me, too," said O'Tal.

E'Menua stared at the tracks, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "It makes no sense. They defeated our army and made it to the river. Why would they turn away from the Horn?"

"Could it be a trick?" H'Loryn asked.

Q'Daer appeared to weigh this. "Perhaps," he said. "A path this wide, made by so many men. With so much of the snow trampled, it's hard to read. I suppose it's possible that they doubled back." He turned to scan the riverbank. "But I see no sign that they crossed the river, at least not near here."

"Then we'll assume that they've turned east," E'Menua said. "We'll follow these tracks as far as they lead us. They're still fairly fresh, and with so many of them on foot, we should catch them before long."

"What if they're retreating?"

Every one of them turned to look at Grinsa.

"Why would they retreat?" O'Tal asked, looking puzzled. "We know from last night that our army has been destroyed. There's nothing to keep them from crossing into the Horn. They'd have no reason to turn back now."

"We don't know how many men they lost," Grinsa answered. He gestured at the trampled ground. "This could have been done by four thousand men. It also could have been done by half that number or fewer. Maybe they defeated the Fal'Borna army, but lost so many that they decided that they couldn't go on."

"What does it matter?" E'Menua asked irritably.

"If they're retreating, we should let them go," Grinsa said. "Particularly if the Mettai have magic that can destroy an entire Qirsi army."

H'Loryn raised an eyebrow and glanced at the other two a'laqs, a hopeful look on his face.

O'Tal caught Grinsa's eye, and shook his head slightly. But it was too late.

"Let them go?" E'Menua said, his voice rising. "Let them go! They invaded our land! They killed hundreds of our warriors! Who knows how many septs they attacked? And you want to let them go?"

"Forgive me, A'Laq," Grinsa said. He felt weak for apologizing, but he knew that he'd been mistaken to speak of retreat in front of everyone. He would have been better off first approaching E'Menua in private. Or better still, O'Tal. Too late for that now.

For his part, E'Menua didn't seem to hear his apology.

"I thought that you finally understood what it meant to be Fal'Borna!" the a'laq was saying. "I thought you were becoming one of us, at long last."

He spat on the ground at Grinsa's feet. "Clearly I was wrong."

The a'laq turned away without another word, walked back to his horse, and swung himself onto the animal's back.

"We follow them east!" he said fiercely, glaring at all of them.

He wheeled his horse away and spurred the beast to a gallop, leaving the rest no choice but to follow.

"I'm sorry," Grinsa said to no one in particular. "This war has already been costly. I just thought perhaps we should consider letting it end. I meant no offense."

None of the others would so much as look at him, except H'Loryn, who seemed even more disappointed than Grinsa felt, and O'Tal, who shook his head ruefully and said, "You should have known better. You've lived among the Fal'Borna for a few turns now. You should have known what he'd say."

O'Tal didn't seem angry with him, as E'Menua had. But he and H'Loryn followed the others, so that Grinsa was left there alone. He climbed back onto his horse and rode after them, knowing he'd been a fool to say what he had.

The a'laq set a grueling pace. It almost seemed that E'Menua wished to punish his entire army for what Grinsa had suggested. They pushed their mounts throughout the day, barely resting. Grinsa had rejoined the other Weavers at the head of the army, though still none of them spoke to him or even acknowledged him. His back and legs ached, and he longed for nightfall so that he could sleep.

The trail left by the Eandi army stretched out before them. It seemed the invaders were still headed due east, toward the Silverwater and the safety of their homeland. Even as the snow began to melt, making the enemy's tracks less apparent, other signs of their passage became more obvious. The grass had been flattened; scraps of food-rinds of cheese, crusts of bread, and bits of dried meat-littered their path. The riders could even see where men had strayed from their course to relieve themselves. There could be little doubt at this point: The Eandi were leaving Fal'Borna land, and it appeared they were in a hurry to do so.

Just let them go! Grinsa wanted to scream. This war is over! Return to your parents, your wives, your children!

But he said nothing, and he rode with the rest of them.

They spotted the rearguard first, perhaps two dozen soldiers, all on horseback. The men were too far ahead for Grinsa and the others to reach with magic, though that didn't stop E'Menua from trying. He used language of beasts first, and when that failed, shaping power. But the Eandi riders had seen the Fal'Borna and were galloping away, no doubt to warn their commanders that the Qirsi riders were coming.

E'Menua signaled a stop, and while the warriors rested, the a'laqs and Weavers gathered to discuss what they should do next. They made room in their circle for Grinsa, but otherwise he might as well have been invisible.

"We're going to do this quickly," E'Menua told them. "I don't want to give them any time to prepare. Our first attacks will be directed at the Mettai. Shaping, fire, even mind-bending if you can manage it. I don't need to tell you that they're the greatest danger. Once they're dead, we can turn our attention to the rest of their army."

"Forgive me, A'Laq," Grinsa said. "But don't you think the other Fal'Borna army will have tried the same thing?"

E'Menua stared straight ahead, still refusing to look at him.

"What of it?" he asked after a moment, his voice as tight as a bowstring.

"I think we need to ask ourselves why they failed and what we can do to overcome whatever attacks the Mettai throw at us."

For a moment no one spoke, and Grinsa wondered if the rest intended to keep on ignoring him.

But then O'Tal cleared his throat and said, "The Forelander makes a valid point. P'Rhil would have done all he could to destroy the Mettai first, and clearly he wasn't able to."

E'Menua's face reddened. Grinsa was sure he was going to dismiss what they were saying as cowardly or foolish. But the a'laq surprised him.

"Perhaps they're able to strike too quickly," he said. At last he faced Grinsa. "Do we know how close the Mettai need to be for their magic to work?"

"No, A'Laq," Grinsa said. "At least I don't know. But what we discussed the other day remains true. Fire magic might work against any spells they try to use against us. And shaping should work against any creatures they conjure."

E'Menua appeared to think about this for several moments. "All right, then. Forelander, I want you watching for any attacks that can be destroyed with fire magic. I'll give you fifty men who wield that power; that should be plenty. That's all you're to do. The rest of us will fight off whatever they conjure-we have plenty of shapers in this army."

Grinsa nodded. "All right."

"What about language of beasts?" H'Loryn asked. "Won't that work on the creatures they send against us?"

"I don't think so," Grinsa said. "From what I know of Mettai magic, their creatures could be immune to that power."

"And how is it that you know so much about the Mettai?" O'Tal asked him.

Grinsa didn't need E'Menua's small head shake to tell him that they had strayed into dangerous territory. "I haven't been in the Southlands long," said, "but I've journeyed here a good deal. And in the course of those travels I've met many people, including some who are Mettai."