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  A cheer went up as Kessligh and Sasha approached, and Sasha decided to pull Peg back a length and allow all attention to fall upon her uman. Kessligh waved his sword in reply. Surely these men weren't to know how much Kessligh hated all the adulation. Not that he ever let it show-he respected the pride of Lenay warriors far too much. Let them have their hero, and cheer when they wanted to cheer. Kessligh had more important things to worry about.

  "We'll take the rear," Kessligh announced to the group, meaning himself and Sasha, "like the pair of unarmoured cowards we are." A roar of laughter. "We'll be crossing the road to Hadryn on this side, and the guardpost there. If they've got archers, remember-don't charge, flank. That's what cavalry's for. Get behind them and kill them, no need to give them easy shots. If they look undecided, demand they surrender and save yourself the trouble. It'd be lovely if they all surrendered immediately, but I don't expect it. As flankers, we have the perimeter, Prince Damon shall lead the main force into the town. He's relying on us to keep his flanks and rear secure from counterattack. Let's not let him down. Sergeant Garys has the lead."

  Another cheer went up. From back at the road, an answering cheer, no doubt in reply to a similar speech from Captain Tyrun. The right flank would be led by a lieutenant whose name Sasha hadn't yet learned. Kessligh had said that Damon would lead the central attack, Sasha reflected as they moved aside for the formation to come past. Flattery of the prince before the mentechnically Damon was leading the central charge, but he would be several rows deep from the front, surrounded by his little contingent of Royal Guard.

  To her faint surprise, she felt the first, genuine stab of worry. Concern for Damon, no less. And reprimanded herself a moment later-Damon was a fine horseman and swordsman… for a non-svaalverd fighter, anyhow. No effort in training was spared for a Prince of Lenayin. And he was the best protected soldier in the formation; not easily distinguishable from a regular soldier in his dress-he would be fine.

  "You," said Kessligh, pointing to Terjellyn's rear, "stay right here, the whole time. You're good on your feet, but cavalry's a whole different world. Know your limitations. And his." With a sharp gesture to Peg.

  "I know," she told him, meeting his stern gaze as calmly as possible. "I won't do anything stupid. I promise."

  "First time for everything, I suppose." But his crooked smile held a hint of real affection. Sasha felt her heart swell. He reached out and they tapped fists. From Kessligh, a rare gesture indeed. It almost worried her, that he should choose this moment for such a gesture.

  A yell then from the centre, and across the rolling hill, the central formation moved off downslope, three lines of horsemen following the road and two additional lines to either side. Sergeant Garys waved a fist and the left flank moved forward at a canter. As the last of them passed Sasha and Kessligh's position, they tapped heels and followed.

  The low wall they'd jumped on the way up presented the first obstaclearmoured Lenay horsemen regularly practised on obstacles twice as high, and cleared it comfortably. The pace accelerated to a fast canter, each of the two lines' leaders scanning intently ahead, selecting their line across the undulating downward slope, over walls, past orchards, farmhouses, barns and clusters of livestock, planning ahead and predicting events. The leader of the right-ward column had another man at his side, holding formation with his leader, but glancing continually across at the central formation as they came down the winding road, making sure this flank did not outpace, nor were left behind.

  The rear had a certain freedom, Sasha saw, realising now the other reason why Kessligh preferred it, apart from his and her lack of armour. She could see everything without bothering about formations-the central column upon the right, weaving and splitting to pass about another burned farmhouse, the broken, rocky ridge over to the far left where the open farmland appeared to stop, and all the sweeping contours in between. The pace accelerated once more, and she took the liberty of galloping off to Kessligh's side, to gain some space.

  The hillside was flatter for a moment, then fell away more steeply and she had a brief, fantastic view of the town of Perys, nestled upon its protruding ridge below. As they drew closer, some of the smoke in town appeared to be accompanied by flames.

  The horses in front leaped another wall, then descended the steeper slope beyond… the wall rushed up, Sasha counting Peg's strides and judging distances by reflex, then sailing precisely over, touching with barely an impact as the slope fell away. They plunged at rapid speed as the whole front accelerated, Peg stretching out and threatening to gain on the riders ahead. Sasha wove him off to one side, then back again, and liked the way the vantage changed at that speed, as the wind stung at her eyes and clods of earth from the racing horsemen in front spun and fell to all sides like rain.

  They raced into the depression Kessligh had indicated earlier, Perys out of view behind the intervening ridge, then rounded the ridge's end. Over and across a slanting rise in the land, then, hurdling another wall and skirting the smouldering remains of a farmhouse, a rush of ashen smell upon the wind. Suddenly to the right the road was visible once more, and upon it the central formation, which had skirted the cliff's other end.

  She saw the other horseman before anyone-a startled figure racing from behind the cover of an orchard-and yelled warning. More yells went up from the front as he was joined by a second, racing downslope at full speed. Suddenly Kessligh was peeling off, selecting a path to the right of the orchard strip. A farmer's hut lay in ruins behind the orchard wall and then Kessligh's arm was indicating another line to the right, a stream, Sasha saw, cutting downslope and through the orchard.

  Kessligh jumped, and then she did, past the ashen ruin and angling right to take the stream directly… and Sasha caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye-bodies upon the ground, human and livestock, slaughtered together. Peg leapt the stream, then skirted the orchard's right flank, low fruit trees whipping past her, Sasha drawing her blade for the first time and holding it low to the right, ready for surprises. The orchard passed with no sign of further hidden riders as they leapt the end wall and continued across an open field, panicked sheep scattering before them in waves.

  Ahead, several guardsmen were closing on the two escaping riders. Peg and Terjellyn hit their full stride for the first time, closing the gap and hurtling down the slope. Another cry rang high upon the wind ahead above the thunder of pounding hooves.

  "Murdering thieves! Murdering thieves!" A pursuing soldier aimed a crossbow upon his saddlehorn. A jolt, and one of the thieves faltered, clutching awkwardly at the reins. Then fell, rolling and crashing at bonebreaking speeds. The soldier's companion was gaining on the second man, sword raised, but at the last moment, the remaining thief evaded him and the guardsman and his formation charged on, having no time to stop and deal with stragglers.

  Except that now, Kessligh angled directly toward the thief, weapon raised with obvious intent. Sasha fell back and moved across, ready to intercept any obvious escape route. The rider swung from the saddle, clutching stirrup and rein to use his horse as a shield. Kessligh and Sasha flashed by him, one to either side, Sasha sparing a disgusted glance over her shoulder as the man regained the saddle and spurred his mount uphill, making no attempt to follow.

  She and Kessligh leaped a wall, skirted a rising mound of rock, then crested another slight rise as suddenly Perys appeared directly before and below. Three groups of horsemen now rushed downslope upon that central, converging ridge. The downhill road linked with another from the left that ran off toward Hadryn, along the shoulder of the gorge. Through that junction ran a stone wall no higher than the others, and a simple guardpost with a hut and a small barn for horses. Squinting through the wind, Sasha could see figures manning that post and several spots along the wall, plus several tethered horses. Above the thunder of hooves, there came the sound of a bell tolling.

  The Falcon Guard raced the final length of slope, weapons brandished and banners flying. From the town, well behind the stone w
all, there emerged a number of horsemen coming out to greet them. Sasha saw the guardpost archers fire, and abandoned any last hope of a rapid surrender as a leading guardsman's horse went down in a horrid tangle of animal and human limbs. There came an answering roar from the Falcon Guards, and then they were plunging over the wall, the archers ducking for shelter as the central formation continued across open ground to the town and the emerging riders.

  She missed that first clash, however, as Kessligh swung wide right, then back left to jump the wall at a close angle. Sasha followed a width wider for cover, and saw Terjellyn fairly trample one runner into the ground, Kessligh reversing for a neat backhand cut to fell a second as he ran. And then he was riding up along the wall, flushing men from their hiding crouches even as a number of Sergeant Garys's group came circling back. Several reloading archers leaped the wall to escape Kessligh's blade, another freed his horse and leapt astride just in time to be cut from the saddle at Kessligh's passing.

  They swerved to miss the guardhouse and barn; the remaining, tethered horses scampering in fear, another man throwing himself clear in time to avoid Terjellyn's pounding hooves only to find himself in Sasha's path-Peg had no respect for human-sized obstructions when his blood was up, and she barely felt the bump as Peg smashed him spinning aside. Then some of Sergeant Garys's men were in amongst it, riding down foot soldiers and sweeping both sides of the wall.

  Sasha lost Kessligh momentarily in a confusion of riders, struggling for control with a double-reined grip in her left hand-Peg saw a gap almost before she did and went through it with little urging, into open ground before the town. Riders wheeled ahead, more of the flanking formation dealing with those the central formation had bypassed. Weapons slashed and cut, outnumbered defenders trying desperately to survive through manoeuvre and defence… several horses with empty saddles, a pair of guardsmen collided, a crash of horses and a catapulting rider, Sasha reining aside that collision and searching in vain for Kessligh…

  A snarling rider in northern dark greys came at her from the right and she dug in her heels, Peg's acceleration leaving the rider's swing far short. She dodged again as another two men locked in jostling combat threatened to hit her, then slashed hard at a wild stroke from her side-it jolted her arm and she spurred Peg on, emerging from that little knot to find open ground to Perys in front, and the tail end of a horse she fancied was Terjellyn disappearing fast into its main street. She spurred after him, flexing her aching arm and risking a glance behind to see if she were pursued. Having cleared the wall of opponents, guardsmen were now heading for the fight in strength-soon the odds for the defenders would be overwhelming.

  Peg raced across the undulating final stretch, frothing and blowing hard, Sasha wriggling the fingers on her gloved right hand, as the index finger had gone suddenly numb. She hadn't performed that parry well at all. Kessligh was right, cavalry fighting was not ideal for a svaalverd fighter-balance in the saddle was not always simple, and fared far better with two hands than one. Deprived of her technique, the strength of Lenay fighting men became formidable. That last man had struck hard.

  Then Peg's hooves were pounding upon the packed earth road, ramshackle houses to either side, their doors smashed in. Further ahead, several dwellings were reduced to smouldering ashes. Beyond that, something large still burned. She raced by several bodies in the road, recently slashed and weapons at their side, blood pooling upon the dirt. Ahead, the road opened into what appeared to be a central village courtyard. Within, fighting raged, horses trampling in circles and swords clashing. There was no sign of villagers anywhere.

  She burst into the courtyard and saw the main source of smoke-the roof of the broad, wooden training hall, which dominated the centre of the square, was on fire. Guardsmen seemed to have mostly won the fight against opposing cavalry as many Hadryn bodies lay sprawled about the square. Numerous guardsmen had dismounted to give chase into broken doorways, or across the debris of previously destroyed buildings. She noticed guardsmen clustered upon the front verandah of the training hall, hammering at the door with their sword hilts. One gave a harsh command to others, who went racing about to the building's other side, searching for entrances. From inside, she could hear the shrill cries of women.

  Sasha spurred Peg forward while sheathing her sword. She leaped from the saddle, running across the stones and onto the verandah. "Someone give me a lift!" she yelled at the men hammering at the door, which appeared to be firmly locked. They spun… and to her surprise, the leader was Jaryd, his young face streaked with sweat beneath his helm. "Get me onto the roof? I can get in from there!"

  "The damn roof's on fire, fool!" Jaryd yelled back as his men continued hammering.

  "I know! I spend a lot more time in these buildings than you do, just trust me!"

  Jaryd swore and ran to her side, hands clasped together for a cradle. Sasha stuck her foot in it, grasped the support pillar for balance and shoved upwards. Jaryd lifted at the same time, with a great heave, and she caught the verandah roof with both hands. She got an arm over, braced an elbow and scampered with both feet upon the pillar… it propelled her over the edge and onto the wooden shingles. She rolled upright, immediately feeling the heat of the flames that roared and surged upon the right side of the roof, threatening to cave it in.

  Sasha ran up the increasing incline, aiming booted feet for the nails, knowing that a misstep could break straight through (she'd done it before, playing games on various roofs as a girl). She manoeuvred around the forward triangle panel and rolled onto the upper rooftop from there. Moved along a little way, then simply started kicking with a heel at a likely spot. A wooden shingle broke, and she kicked several more, clearing a space of exposed beams through which dark smoke poured out. One of the big Lenay soldiers might have struggled to fit through it, but Sasha quickly knelt, got both feet in, took her weight on her arms and lowered herself through with a hand-hold reversal, gasping a deep, final breath as she went.

  Smoke within the enclosed ceiling space made breath and sight impossible. She screwed her eyes shut, held her breath, and felt about upon the straw ceiling matting for an edge. Pulled it up and threw it aside, drew her sword and plunged it point first through the light planks below. Stabbed repeatedly, then got her gloved hands into the broken gaps in the wood and pulled. They broke easily. Sasha threw them away, sheathed her sword as the lack of air began to burn at her lungs, stuck her head out of the gap below and saw the broad, open space of the training hall divided by multiple tachadar circles amidst numerous wooden ceiling supports. There were more horizontal beams below, and she grasped the edges of her hole, thrust her body out and half-somersaulted upon that grip, legs swinging and catching a beam. She grabbed onto it, swinging upside down by hands and knees, and overarmed to the ceiling pillar, sucking air thinly as the smoke clustered about the ceiling. She grabbed the pillar and slid down the smooth hewn sides to the ground, gasping a deep breath as the air cleared near the bottom.

  A crowd of villagers were clustered at either end around the huge doors, which appeared to have been barred and padlocked. "Padlocked from the inside, but not the outside?" was her immediate thought. "How did the person with the key get out?" A crash from the middle of the hall interrupted that thought as ceiling beams collapsed in a clatter of flames, charcoal and sparks. The low ceiling of smoke was growing lower, the visibility already terrible, blocking light from the small windows high in the walls. A hammering sounded above the screams and crackling of the fire-someone trying to hack through a wall with axe or sword. Neither would work, these walls were vertyn hardwood, four times the weight of regular pine and just as many times the strength.

  "Stand aside!" she yelled to the villagers. "Get aside, give some room!" They turned in astonishment and pulled others aside who had not heard, clothing held to their mouths, eyes wide with panic. Sasha redrew her sword and examined the padlock, a big, heavy, iron contraption, no doubt imported from the lowlands where such things were commonly engineered. She point
ed to the nearest woman. "Hold this lock! Like this. Keep this side facing up! Don't worry, you'll keep your fingers!"

  The woman grasped it in fear, held as instructed, and shut her eyes. About her, Sasha was aware, there were children crying. She took stance, trying to relax her shoulders… without a clean breath to take, it wasn't easy. But then, for her, swinging a sword was easier than breathing, and serrin steel was far tougher than iron. The lock broke with a ringing clash and Sasha tore the lock aside, villagers crowding to lift the heavy bar across the door and crash it to the ground. Pressure from inside and out sent it rolling aside and villagers poured out, clutching children and coughing for air.

  Sasha remembered the group at the other end and turned back to stare desperately through the smoke… but already they were coming, skirting the flames.

  "That's all of them?" Sasha yelled as they came. "No others?"

  "That's all!" answered an elderly, coughing man. "They locked us in here, threatened to kill a child on the outside if we did not throw the key out… we… we didn't know the roof was afire until…"

  "Tell me later!" She ushered him out, onto the verandah, to find that most of the others had already been escorted across the square to the neighbouring inn. She moved down the stairs and across the square at the old man's side, several women hastening to help.

  Halfway across, and a thunder of hooves and motion took her attention left… a horseman came to a skittering pause, several men on foot behind, weapons in hand and assuredly Hadryn from their dark grey cloaks. Their heads were bare, hair closely cropped in the Verenthane way, nearly bare at the back and sides in the northern style. Gleaming star symbols hung prominently about their necks.