Tirnya looked at the eldest again. She stood with her arms hanging at her side, her bloodied knife still in one hand, dark earth clinging to the other. She looked utterly spent, and there was a haunted look on her face. Her son stood beside her, obviously horrified.
"Report!" Tirnya's father called, his voice ragged.
Tirnya started toward her father, walking slowly. She felt weary, though she hadn't done anything more than stand there and watch.
After a moment she realized that Enly was walking beside her. She glanced at him, and their eyes met briefly. Then she looked away.
As they approached Jenoe and the Mettai, Tirnya heard the eldest's son say, "That spell should never have been used again! It was forbidden centuries ago! And for us in particular-!"
"That's enough, Mander!" the eldest said.
"What spell did you use on them?" Jenoe asked, sounding as if he didn't want to hear the answer. "Are they asleep?"
"No," Fayonne said. "It was a poison spell. The Fal'Borna are dead." Jenoe took a long breath and nodded.
"Then at least we don't have to go and kill them."
"I didn't know Mettai magic could do that," Gries said, staring at the bodies of the Fal'Borna.
"It's a spell from long ago," Fayonne told him, damp hair clinging to her brow. "I wouldn't have used it if we hadn't been desperate."
One of Hendrid's captains approached them, his face deathly pale, one of his arms hanging limply at his side. He stopped in front of Waterstone's marshal and saluted. Tirnya saw that there were tears on his face.
"Report, Verin."
"We're still counting the dead, Marshal. The last…" He swallowed. "The last I heard it was five hundred."
Hendrid closed his eyes briefly and rubbed a hand over his beard. "Blood and bone." He looked at his captain again. "How many wounded?"
"I don't know, Marshal," Verin said. "Hundreds."
Hendrid sighed and nodded. "I see you're one of them. I want you to get that arm splinted. And keep me informed. I'll want a final count."
"Yes, Marshal."
"Now are you ready to listen to me?"
They all turned. Torgan Plye stood nearby, holding the reins to his horse.
For a moment Tirnya thought her father would pull his sword free and run the man through. His eyes blazed and his hands appeared to be trembling. He opened his mouth to speak-probably to remind the merchant that he'd been banished.
But at that moment, a series of odd, strangled cries rose from the far left flank of the army. Turning to look that way, Tirnya saw several Eandi soldiers grabbing at their necks much as the Qirsi had done, and falling to the ground.
"Gods save us all!" Mander said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Jenoe had a frown on his face. "What's-?"
"It can't be!" Fayonne said, her face ashen.
"Of course it can!" Mander told her, his tone harsh. He turned to Tirnya's father. "The poison spell is coming this way! It might be the wind or… or something else. But we all have to get away from here as quickly as possible!"
"Blood and bone!" Jenoe still looked confused, as if unsure of what to make of this Mettai magic, which always seemed to turn against them. But he didn't waste time. "Signal a retreat!" he shouted to his captains. "South, along the river!"
"What about the horses?" Tirnya asked him.
He looked toward the far end of the camp again. Tirnya did the same. Men were dying by the moment, and others were already starting to flee. "Quickly, Tirnya! Untether them. If they follow, they'll be saved, but don't delay if they linger. I'd rather lose horses than soldiers." And I don't want to risk losing you.
He didn't have to say this last. She read it in his eyes.
"I'll go with you," Enly said.
She didn't object. Together they ran back to where the marshals, captains, and lead riders had left their horses. The animals were still there, all of them alive. Tirnya could hear orders being given above the tumult of death cries and shouting. She and Enly worked wordlessly and in moments had all of the animals untied. Enly started slapping the animals on the haunches and shouting for them to run. Some did. Others bolted short distances before stopping again. A few ran the wrong way, back toward where the poison spell had killed soldiers. They hadn't gone far-not far at all-before several of them began to thrash violently. In moments they had collapsed to the ground, their flanks heaving. And then they were still.
"Come on!" Enly called. "It's getting close!"
He was running again and Tirnya sprinted after him. She could see their horses. Thirus, her sorrel, was just ahead of Enly's bay. They both shifted directions slightly to intercept the animals. For all they knew, they couldn't outrun the poison, but perhaps they could outride it.
She whistled for Thirus, and immediately the animal stopped and turned toward her. Enly's horse halted at the sound of his whistle. They reached the animals and swung themselves onto their backs.
"What about the others?" Tirnya asked, breathless, her eyes scanning the mass of soldiers for her father.
"There's nothing we can do for them," Enly said. "If we try to bring your father's horse to him, or do the same for any of the others, we risk slowing ourselves down too much." He eyed the army briefly, apprehension in his pale eyes. "They're moving, and most of the horses are moving. That's the best we can hope for."
She nodded. She could see Jenoe now. He was near the head of the army. He would run several paces, then pause to urge his men on and mark their progress before running farther himself. Men at the back of the column continued to fall, so that the army appeared to leave a trail of broken bodies in its wake. But the number of those afflicted seemed to be decreasing. Perhaps they could outrun it.
"We need to ride, Tirnya. We've done what we can."
She knew he was right. When Enly spurred his mount to a canter, she did the same with Thirus.
They rode for more than a league, stopping periodically to mark the progress of those on foot. The army kept up a swift pace, marching as if another Fal'Borna army pursued them. Tirnya could see her father leading the soldiers, and Stri beside him. She also spotted Gries, Hendrid Crish, and many of the captains. She lamented the loss of every life, of course, but she couldn't help but be relieved to see that most of those who led the army had survived. She noticed that the Mettai were near her father, too. Most of them seemed to have made it. Some of the horses had lagged behind until Tirnya finally lost sight of them. But many of the animals had followed her and Enly.
At last, as Enly and Tirnya waited once more for the army to catch up with them, she saw her father raise a hand, indicating to the soldiers behind him that they should halt. Enly and Tirnya rode back to join them.
"I want a count made of survivors!" Jenoe was shouting as they reached him. "Every captain should make a count of his or her lead riders, and then every lead rider should make a count of the men under his or her command. Quickly! I want to know how many we've lost." He turned to Tirnya and Enly. "That goes for the two of you, as well."
"Of course, Father."
"How many horses did we lose?"
"We're not sure," Enly answered. "I'm hoping some of the stragglers will find us eventually. But right now we've got maybe half the number we started with."
Jenoe nodded, though he looked disgusted. Turning to Fayonne, he said, "How did this happen? I find it hard to believe that the Mettai of old would have been valued as allies had every one of their spells killed Eandi as well as Qirsi."
"It must have been the wind, Marshal," the eldest told him.
"Mother."
All of them looked at Mander, but before the young Mettai could say more, Fayonne shot him a look that could have kindled wet wood.
"You should see to your men, Marshal," the old woman said. "I want to make certain that all of my people are all right."
Jenoe eyed her and Mander for several moments. "Yes, of course," he said at last. "But we're not done here, Eldest. I have questions, and I'm going to expect answers."