A bird cried out in the late autumn sky, wheeling high above the treetops as it searched for its prey. A man stood at the entrance to a tent, watching the bird. Do you see him? The man wonders. Can you show us where he is? The bird floated out of his view, leaving his questions unanswered.
He entered the tent, seeing his Second Fernard already laying out the local map, placing rocks on the corners to keep it flat.
"What have you discovered?"
Fernard looked up at his Captain, then ran a hand through his dark hair.
"I don't know, really. This is a fairly up-to-date map, as far as they go. It looks like the only thing for Shygar to do is head for the Southern Range; but with winter coming on, he wouldn't last long. He doesn't have much in the way of supplies, and he loses men each time he attacks. I think he is going to run until he can't run anymore, then turn and fight us to the death."
Captain Caleyal moved to a campstool and sat down. He reached for a leather water skin on his cot and took a long swallow. Fernard looked back to the map, nodding to himself as if the lines on the paper confirmed his guess.
"What lies between us and the mountains, Fernard?"
The Second flinched as he realized he must have missed something. He looked again at the map.
"A village, Captain. Highbow. That and a lot of farmland."
"Highbow," mutters Caleyal, tapping his chin with the spout of the water skin. He took another drink. "Fernard, Shygar is a coward and a murderer, and I will see him hang for it. But he is very smart. He knows he needs to get to the mountains before we do. If we get there first, he is cut off from escape. If he makes it there first, he can either winter there, making raids on the farm folk for provisions, or try to pass over. I don't think he will pass over, unless he figures he can survive in Ragier territory." He stood up, handed the skin to Fernard and leaned over the map. With his finger he traced out a circular route winding west around the civilized areas and terminating in the foothills of the Southern Range. He looked up at his second, eyebrows raised.
"I understand, Captain. We will be underway in half a mark."
Caleyal watched the young officer exit the tent, listening as he began bellowing orders. He began rolling up the map, looking around for any stray pieces of equipment he may have forgotten to pack. His eyes settled on a twist of rope that lay next to the table. He picked it up and held it out with both hands. It was a hangman's noose at the end of a foot-long piece of rope. The end was cut raggedly. Caleyal's eyes burned. "You won't make it to the Range, Shygar. You won't escape me this time."
