From a hilltop on the bank behind him he'd seen that the river flowed from south to north. To the north it joined a larger river about a day's march farther on. To the south Blade had seen what looked very much like the ruins of a bridge and a town or at least some collection of structures far too regular to be natural. Whichever way he went, he'd have plenty of water, and there were probably fish in the river.

He decided to take another look, now that it was full daylight. He climbed out of the water, shook himself like a dog, picked up his club, and walked toward the hill. He'd covered about half the distance when three of the gray cats seemed to spring out of the ground almost at his feet. A single glance told Blade they weren't wild. Each wore a leather collar decorated with brass and soft leather protectors on their legs.

Just as clearly, they were trained to hunt, and right now they were hunting Blade. One crouched in front of him, just out of reach of his club, growling and digging its hind-claws into the ground as if it was about to leap at his throat. While the first cat held his attention, the other two loped around to his right and left. They could attack him from both sides at once, and move almost as quickly to cut off his retreat to the river.

The first thing Blade did was put down his club slowly and carefully, with no sudden moves to startle the crouching cat in front of him. The club wouldn't make much difference against three of the cats working together, and it might provoke their masters, who couldn't be far away.

Again moving slowly, Blade crossed his arms on his chest. Then he heard the thud of hooves from beyond the hilltop. A horse neighed sharply, and four riders came trotting over the crest and onto the slope facing the river.