6: Attack
FROM the top of Brownhill Scar, a humped mound or hillock on the ridge over which a path led to Anker's Glen, Tyrrell paused to look back at the last of the sunset afterglow, pink and emerald shading to deepening turquoise between horizon and zenith. A little light remained on such heights as this, but in the valleys the shadows were deepening fast, and the light haze that would later become a misty reek was thickening. Dowlandsbar, a mile and more to the west from the Scar, was hidden by the intervening height; to the east, far off and no more than a glimmering point, Tyrrell could see the coalesced lights of the farmhouse where Bandon, whose land formed the eastern boundary to Tyrrell's own, lived. There was no other sign of human occupancy of the rugged landscape: cottages, w
