Ah, Raj Ahten thought, Vishtimnu’s army has finally been sighted. In Raj Ahten’s state, with his high metabolism, it seemed the man took forever to speak. Fortunately, he did not wait for permission.

“I beg pardon, Great King,” he said, head bowed. The man’s eyes were wide with fear. “But I have urgent news. I was placed to watch at Harm’s Gorge. I must report that a horseman came to the gorge and destroyed the bridge. He pointed a finger, uttered a curse, and the bridge collapsed.”

“What?” Raj Ahten asked. Could the Earth Warden be seeking to cut off Raj Ahten from his reinforcements? The wizard had claimed that he would not take sides in this battle, and Raj Ahten had believed him. But the wizard was obviously up to something.

“The bridge is destroyed. The gorge is impassable,” the scout repeated. Raj Ahten’s scouts were trained to treat every question, even rhetorical questions, as queries. They reported only what they saw, without embellishment.

“Have you spotted signs of Vishtimnu?”

“No, O Great Light. I saw no signs—no scouts, no clouds of dust on the road. The forest lies quiet.”

Raj Ahten considered. Just because his scout did not see signs of reinforcements, it did not mean that Vishtimnu was not coming. It could well be that the wizard had his own means of detecting them. And in an effort to delay the army from reaching Longmot, the wizard had destroyed the bridge. But this would only slow Vishtimnu, not stop him. Vishtimnu’s armies brought great wains filled with food, clothing, and weapons, supplies enough to last the whole winter, to last for a long campaign. The wagons would not be able to pass the gorge, would have to go around, some hundred and twenty miles.

This would slow the caravan at least four days, probably five or six. It would slow even those knights mounted on force horses, so that they wouldn’t reach Longmot today.

Destroying the bridge would do Raj Ahten little harm. Unless . . . the wizard knew that more than one army marched through these woods, and therefore sought to cut off Raj Ahten’s escape.

Raj Ahten suddenly realized that Jureem had run off only hours ago. Perhaps he had feared to come to Longmot. Perhaps Jureem himself had conspired to create a trap!

Raj Ahten didn’t hesitate. Two and a half miles northeast of Longmot, on a lonely mountain, an ancient observatory stood on a promontory that rose above the woods higher than any other hill for many miles. Raj Ahten could see the observatory from here—a round tower with a flat top, made of blood-red stone. It was called the Eyes of Tor Loman.