pushing his horse to the front. "Let's go, lads. Last one to the trees buys me all I can drink."
"Rocs," Berk said, scanning the sky as he reloaded his bow. "They never travel alone."
"Then best get that beast moving, Berk. You don't draw enough pay in three cycles to keep my tankard full."
Bolin lingered on the ridge, watching the sky as the men headed for the Greensward. When they were less than a handful of horse-lengths from safety three more of the huge birds appeared above them. They screamed as they shortened their wings and plummeted downward. Bolin cued Sandeen. The stallion ran flat out, easily gaining ground on the other horses. A rush of air pushed over them, and Bolin flattened against Sandeen's neck as they darted under cover of the trees.
He reined in beside Berk, Sandeen's hooves plowing furrows in the ground as the stallion skidded to a halt. Bolin turned to watch the rocs circle the ridge, riding the air currents on their enormous wings. One of them veered off and dropped down beside its fallen comrade. It crooned softly, nudging the lifeless form with a wickedly hooked beak, easily as large as a supply cart. It craned its neck around, golden eyes narrowing as it swept the shadows for its prey. When it spied them it leveled its head, partly extended its wings and charged. Sandeen threw his weight back and struck out with his front hooves, but Bolin held him steady. The wards around the Greensward flared upwards, a hazy wall of faint green the creature couldn't cross. It screamed in fury, the clack of its beak sounding like a huge tree snapping in half.
"Unholy mothers." Garek eased his mount up beside Bolin. "You're familiar with these things, Berk?"
"Yes, sir. Hunted them in the Reaches with my father. They had a taste for Lord Verrun's cattle."
"Well, we're a long way from the Reaches, and I don't see any cattle."
The bird made another bounce forward. One of the other horses whinnied in panic and its rider cursed. The roc paced the edge of the tree line, feathers puffed, beak half open.
"Are they known to hunt men?" Garek asked.
"Only when their aeries are threatened."
Sandeen pranced beneath Bolin, muscles quivering, turning to keep the huge bird in his sight. Bolin stroked his neck to calm him. "What about being this far south?"
Berk shrugged, the crossbow still rested in his lap, loaded and cocked. "They prefer mountains. There was an aerie once in the highlands, I think, but it was destroyed. I've never heard of any outside of the Reaches since then."
With a final hissing clack of its beak, the roc turned away. It took several lumbering strides, spread its wings and launched skyward, buffeting them with a whirlwind of twigs and leaves. Bolin watched as it rejoined the other two. They circled the ridge once, their screams echoing from on high before they headed north. He kept his eyes on them until they were no more than specs.
"Can they be tamed?" he asked.
Garek snorted but Berk shook his head. "I wouldn't dismiss it so quickly, Commander. My father often spoke of an old man who claimed rocs were once ridden through the air just as we ride horses on the ground."
"And the reason they no longer are," Garek said, "is because their riders kept falling off."
Someone chuckled at that and the tension surrounding the group eased. Bolin turned Sandeen toward Galys Auld. He stopped alongside the rider supporting the wounded man. "Can he go on without a break?"
The rider bobbed his head. "He's out cold. I think he needs a healer more than a rest right now."
"Let's move out, then. We've got a bit of ground to cover yet."
***
Bolin kept up a steady pace despite the exhaustion creeping through his bones. The natural power of the Greensward served to refresh both man and beast, but he and Sandeen had been on the go for a night and a day with little rest. With the wards once more announcing his arrival, there would be little chance of him finding his bed as soon as they returned.
The