Gorlog's teeth!" Erak exclaimed, stunned at the numbers. "How many are there?" "Ten thousand, maybe twelve," Halt replied briefly. The Skandian let out a low whistle. "Are you sure? How can you tell?" It wasn't a sensible question, but Erak was overwhelmed by the size of the horse herd and he asked the question more for something to say than for any other reason. Halt looked at him dryly. "It's an old calvary trick," he said. "You count the legs and divide by four.

He'd just have to lie there and die, watched over by strange stars who didn't know him, didn't care for him. It was very sad, really.

But then, in his lifetime, Halt had often ignored what was technically legal. Technicalities didn't appeal to him. All too often, they simply got in the way of doing the right thing.

Have you seen them?" he asked. Arrow looked at him disinterestedly. Will frowned. Not talking, eh?" he said. "Maybe you're a little hoarse." He cackled breifly at his own wit.

You know, Gilan, sarcasm isn't the lowest form of wit. It's not even wit at all." -Halt

Now," said Halt, "all I have to do is work out a way of beating these horse-riding devils." Erak grinned at him. "That should be child's play," he said. "The hard part will be convincing Ragnak about it.

Halt shook his head. Frankly, he'd seen sacks of potatoes that could sit a horse better than Erak