Now and then they could hear the sound of the druchii screaming. The enemy had caught sight of their prey and felt it within their grasp. The woods echoed with the shouts and war cries of the dark elves. Tyrion’s heart pounded within his chest. Alarielle looked back at him over her shoulder. She could run like a gazelle when frightened, and she was frightened now.

Despair filled Tyrion’s heart. He could not see how they were going to escape the jaws of the enormous trap that were snapping shut. From all around now he could hear druchii voices. It seemed like an entire army filled the wood, stretched out in a vast crescent, like beaters driving pheasants before them on a hunt. Tyrion began to understand what it must feel like to be hunted in that way.

He stretched his legs and began to overtake Alarielle. He was already breathing hard, much more so than he ought to be for this amount of exercise. It seemed that the wound in his side was already beginning to drain his strength – he did not like that in the slightest. Just when he needed it most he was losing his fitness. He cursed the witch elf once again, hoping that her wicked soul rotted deep in hell.

A few crossbow bolts fell around him. They had come a great distance and lost much of their power. A bolt clattered off a tree in front of him. He could hear the whoosh of arrows behind him. He had heard the sound before on the field of battle but he had never known so many missiles to be directed at only two people. It seemed only a matter of time before one of them hit home and either he or the Everqueen was impaled. That would be the end of the chase.

He began to zigzag, moving from side to side to confuse the archers, but he realised that this was not such a clever plan. The people chasing him would be able to run directly after him and thus gain ground. Alarielle was pushing on and with great woodcraft was simply weaving in and out of the trees, moving in as straight a line as possible while gaining as much cover as she could. Tyrion decided to do the same.

He heard another terrifying sound now. It was one that he had heard before in the cold northern lands of Naggaroth. It was a high-pitched noise somewhere between a scream and a roar. He ran abreast of Alarielle.

He risked a glance backwards and saw some of the great lizards striding forwards through the massed ranks of the druchii troops. Cold Ones were bipedal wingless reptilian creatures who carried armoured knights upon their back. Their movements seemed oddly slow and bouncing but they covered the ground very swiftly with their enormous strides.

It was only a matter of minutes before the Cold Ones reached them, if that. He heard the running water up ahead. Just from the sound of it he could tell that it was a mighty river.