“If the Kazeri Army comes down on top of us, there's not a lot we can do.”
“No,” Kiel agreed. “But we can make fast for Ilduur, and hope they are late.”
They rode uphill in the dark, and then along the ridge at a walk. Sasha wanted to contribute a route, having had far more experience riding in hills than Kiel, but whatever moon there was hid behind thick cloud, and she could barely see the trees as they passed. She thought it was past midnight, but could not tell. The horses plodded on despite exhaustion, and Sasha wondered how she was going to be able to reach Ilduur with no saddle or bridle, no saddlebags and no supplies. She doubted any of their company would be better off, should they reunite.
By dawn, she, Kiel, and the horses were exhausted. Then it began to rain. They both decided the rain offered the best excuse to stop and rest. Kiel had managed to saddle his horse, and Sasha wondered if he'd awoken early as Rhillian and Aisha had. He produced a blanket from his saddlebags, and covered them both with it as they made a nest between the roots of a big tree. The leaves offered cover at first, yet soon the rain grew heavier, and the blanket began to soak. Comfortably taller, Kiel wrapped his arms around her to warm them both.
“I wish I knew how to sleep on the ground,” he said with discomfort. “Errollyn can. But like Rhillian, I'm a city serrin, and I like my bed.”
Sasha said nothing, fast asleep.
The morning cleared to drifting mist and dripping branches, golden sunlight fighting through the cloud. More rested than Kiel, Sasha led the horses to a stream for watering, then picked a good trail up a hillside ridge from where she reckoned a decent lookout could be gained.
Above the southern horizon, the outline of jagged mountains rose. That way was Ilduur, their destination. In the maze of surrounding rumpled forest and valleys, Sasha made out the course of the river they'd left, and where she figured the road would take Rhillian, assuming Rhillian had followed it. The Kazeri, she was quite sure, would have stopped for the night having lost their quarry.
After gaining her bearings, she prepared to remount and saw Kiel frowning toward the western horizon.
“What is it?” she asked. Kiel said nothing, squinting into the distance. Serrin, Sasha knew, saw further by day also. Sasha waited. Finally Kiel prepared to mount, looking grim. “What?” Sasha repeated.
“An army,” said Kiel. “You'll not see it, I can barely make it out myself. That ridge there, beyond the yellow fields.”
Sasha looked. It was not too far. Perhaps a half-day's ride. “Heading which way?” she asked in alarm.
“Northeast. Toward our retreating armies. They move along a road, I can see the road where it crests the ridge. Horsemen pass in a steady flow.”
Horsemen. The Steel and the Army of Lenayin had large numbers of infantry, far slower.
“They'll be on them in a few days, if that.”
“We cannot help that,” Kiel said grimly. “Our mission remains unchanged; we must reach Ilduur, and hope our forces can fight their way to Jahnd.”
They reached the road by midday. There were hoof marks on the turf, no way of telling whose, but headed south, toward Ilduur. Sasha and Kiel followed until a band of townsfolk arrived, all armed and frightened, with tales of a great army passing near, and none of the Steel in any position to intercept it. They moved fast, one grizzled ex-Steel cavalryman told them, too fast for warning, all ahorse and numbering in the tens of thousands. Small bands scouted ahead, causing mayhem where they rode.
Asking after their companions brought gestures aimed further up the road. Sasha risked a canter, making ground rapidly until they came to another small village nestled in the valley folds. There waiting for them ahorse was Arendelle, lowering his bow as he recognised who approached. He led them wordlessly to the town square, where gathered another nine of their previously twenty-six-strong party, dishevelled and some wounded, assisted by frightened village folk.
Sasha exchanged a relieved embrace with a grim-looking Rhillian, then Aisha, sitting with a village elder discussing the road ahead. Both appeared unhurt.
“This is all?” Sasha asked in dismay, looking around.
“Some more may turn up, like you,” Rhillian said. “But we're certain of eight dead. The other six, I don't know.”
Sasha exhaled hard. More than half of their party dead or missing before they'd truly begun travelling. Most of the horses were saddled; Sasha guessed they'd received some from the villagers, but their reserve horses were gone.
“Pelner is too badly wounded to continue,” said Rhillian. “We'll have to leave him here and hope he survives. The village folk have camps in the hills and forests, and they can hide there for weeks. Daish is hurt, but he insists on continuing. He knows Ilduur well, so I'm inclined to risk it.”
“How did they know where we were?” Sasha muttered. “I can't believe they just got lucky.”
“We'll think about it later,” said Rhillian. “Let's rest here for a little longer, then we'll push on. Whether the Kazeri were lucky or not, they'll have guessed where we're heading now. They'll chase us hard.”
Sasha went to check on Daish. He was being tended by Yasmyn, who had herself a bloodied bandage on one hip beneath her riding pants. Daish sat shirtless, bound about the ribs with a bandage, a patch of blood on his left side.
“Stab wound?” Sasha asked, crouching alongside.
Yasmyn nodded, slicing spare cloth into bandage strips with her darak. “Past the bone, I think,” she said. “I don't think it found a lung, though.”
Sasha put a hand on Daish's shoulder. He smiled, wanly. “I got him though,” he said. “I skewered him right through the middle, that slanty-eyed piece of shit.” Then he blinked at Yasmyn. “No offence.”
Yasmyn made a face. “Common ancestor, Kazeri, Isfayen. Lisan too, most likely. Long time ago, Kazeri were great warriors, spread across Rhodia. Now they're just plain-dwellers and sheep herders without even enough sense to build a roof over their heads, dreaming of ancient greatness. When they meet the Army of Lenayin, their numbers will decrease.”
“Where were you last night?” Sasha asked her. “I couldn't find you.”
Yasmyn showed Sasha some fresh scars on her forearm. Self-inflicted, Sasha thought. “The arganyar, it demands blood. My enemies’ blood I have given to the gods; now I give them more each night for a week. I do the ritual outside. When I saw men sneaking. I hid.”
She looked angry. And ashamed. Outnumbered so greatly, Sasha didn't know what else she could have done…except raised the alarm, and died immediately. But she knew Yasmyn wouldn't see it that way.
“The serrin woke up,” she reassured her. “They raised the alarm, there was no need for you to sacrifice yourself.”
Yasmyn said nothing and tore more strips with her darak.
TEN
Sofy trotted through the streets of Tracato, horses' hooves clattering off the high surrounding walls. She had been offered a carriage, and according to royal decorum she should perhaps have taken it. But there was fear in the air, the streets deserted save for the occasional scurrying townsman, and any protection offered by a carriage was deceptive. Amongst her entourage of armoured knights rode Jaryd and his two Lenay companions, plus Jeddie, who looked about with constant concern.
They entered a small square surrounded by very old buildings. Soldiers were camped here, horses drinking from the fountain, men in armour guarding laneways and watching all who entered. On one side rose a temple, single-spired in the fashion of old Bacosh temples. Atop its main steps stood knights in Larosan colours. These had come from the Army of the Bacosh, then. The others about the square were certainly Elissian.