He got up, ate a little more of the food, and then, wrapping it up again, set off westward. There were few roads through the forest, but next day he struck one of the native trackways that had been old before the Legions’ roads were thought of; and since it led in roughly the right direction, he turned into it for the sake of easier travelling and followed it along. By the evening of the next day it had led him into higher and more rolling country, an upland world of long, forest ridges, where the ground was sandy underfoot, and the trees grew taller and more cleanly than the damp oak scrub that he had left behind. The fine spell had broken and soft, chill rain was blowing down the wind. Aquila was wet through and blind weary, for he had scarcely rested since he set out westward; if he rested, the little bird-catcher might draw farther away from him; so he kept on—and on … It was already dusk among the trees when, as he came trudging up the long slope of yet another ridge, he caught a waft of wood-smoke on the sodden, forest-scented air, and as he checked, sniffing, the warm saffron flicker of firelight reached him through the hazel and wayfaring trees that fringed the track.
What do You think about The Lantern Bearers (book III)?
