"Now lead the way, Tark, and remember that if you lead us wrongly Barin dies!"
The great wolf noiselessly slid ahead of their little mounted party. He trotted almost due north across the plain.
"Keep close behind me," his thought came back. "Obey instantly when I direct you."
Wind, cold from the distant peaks, buffeted Eric Nelson's face as the mare loped steadily. Lefty Wister bucketed along just behind, Diril bringing up the rear with the two spare horses.
The wolf veered constantly to keep always as near as possible to the clumps of trees that dotted the plain. Soon Nelson learned the reason.
Tark whirled, just ahead of them, and his eyes flashed green light as his sharp thought came back to them. "Into the trees! Quickly!"
There was a clump of birch close ahead. They spurred into the little grove. There Shan Kar turned in his saddle toward the wolf, his thought suspicious and menacing.
"Is this a trick? If it is, Tark—"
"Quiet!" commanded the wolf. "Scouts are coming."
They came as three gliding shadows up against the stars. Nelson saw they were eagles winging high in the darkness, soundless as flying clouds, sweeping on toward Anshan.