Guiding six-foot runners in and out between trees, however, is less easy; and before long they were forced to moderate their speed. As soon as they did that, Alrek's wonted coolness was able to overtake him. He stopped disgustedly.
"We are simpletons to run. Hallad would do us no harm."
Gard devoted the only breath he had to triumph: "You do not claim that it is Tunni, now!"
"It is Hallad," the Red One agreed in a gasp. "If we could cut off his head and put it between his feet, that would make him rest quiet."
The Ugly One shook his black mane. "You forget that a wave-covered man can not be dug up again. It is said to be a sign that they have been received well when drowned men come back after their death; yet Hallad has scarcely the look of one who has been well entertained——"
"He was always wanting something different from what he had," Brand sniffed.
"However that is, it is unlikely that he has come back to make trouble," Alrek said. "That is only done by men who were unruly before their death. Hallad had less spirit than a wood-goat when he was alive. I think we were fools to run."
"If you had been that kind of a fool on the Cape of the Crosses, you would have made more by it," Gard muttered in rare resentfulness,—though he was not rash enough to speak so that his chief could hear him.
The Sword-Bearer on his side knew better than to ask over. Instead he said: "This is the first time I have been in this part of the country. I wonder what kind of game they have here," and moved leisurely away where a treeless space left a white page crossed and recrossed with woodland runes.
Preferring to discuss their last adventure before they sought a new one, the other two sat down to wait for him. But they were hardly settled before his whistled call brought them again to their feet.