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Several minutes passed, and still no reply came to the horn. Surely the sound could not have gone unnoticed, but there was no sign of life on Sorn's land.
Garstan, already on edge from a sleepless night of watch, began to grow impatient and even reckless with waiting. What secrecy the Eorlingas had held from their hurried journey was now spent. The quiet over the kidnapper's estate could not bode well for the party. Could it not be the sign of final ill deeds, done out of spite in the last moments before capture? Or might the party have arrived too late, and Sorn have fled into hiding?
There might be a trap ahead. But Sorn had not known of their journey, or could not have until the horn announced the party's arrival. Time spent waiting was time for Sorn to plan his welcome for Linduial's rescuers, if he was even present. Still, there was no reason to risk the entire dozen falling into an ambush. One or two could go before the others, at least to find the cause of the continued silence.
"I fear no answer will be given to our call," Garstan said. "There may be a trap, but Sorn now knows that we are here, and we give him time to plot against us by waiting. If not all of the party, should not one go on now? I am willing to take the chance."
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