Transcendence
PART 2 GRASSES in THE WIND Chapter 18 Baiting the Hook

Carwan Pestle settled into his chair at Yatol Grysh's side in the main audience chamber of the temple in Dharyan.
Wan Atenn walked into the room almost immediately, storming up to stand right before the pair.
"You have heard the latest reports of the rebels, I suppose," Yatol Grysh remarked.
Carwan Pestle nodded, for he, too, had heard the reports, which placed Ashwarawu closer to the rim of the To-gai plateau than before.
"Ashwarawu is within striking distance of Dancala Grysh," said the Ya-tol, referring to a small outposter settlement, just over the To-gai rim, that had only recently been renamed in his honor.
Wan Atenn nodded.
"That settlement must not fall!" Grysh yelled suddenly, rising from his seat, a huge scowl upon his thick-jowled face. ?I will not be insulted as Chezru Chieftain Douan was insulted by the fall of Douan Call"
"The Jacintha soldiers have departed, Yatol," Wan Atenn reminded. ?I have few warriors at my disposal - "
"You have the garrison of Dharyan, bolstered by the men from Jacintha who remained behind. That should be sufficient to crush the fool Ru and his wretched followers."
Wan Atenn stiffened, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his broad and powerful chest. ?Even with the additional soldiers, the defense of Dharyan - "I did not ask you to defend Dharyan!" Yatol Grysh screamed at him.
"Yatol?" the seemingly stunned Chezhou-Lei warrior asked. ?That is my mission, above all. To defend Dharyan and to defend Yatol Grysh."
"And to defend the reputation of Yatol Grysh, you must defend Dancala Grysh," the Yatol explained.
Wan Atenn spent a long while staring at his leader. So did a confused Carwan Pestle. He had rarely seen the calculating Grysh so animated, and 11 hardly believe that Grysh cared so much about a minor settlement CoU haj borne his name for only a few months.
"Dancala Grysh has only a partial wall, and no defensive emplacements," \j. Atenn explained. ?To properly defend it will take nearly as many sol-der" as are needed to defend Dharyan itself."
"Then take them."
"Yatol, I cannot," the Chezhou-Lei warrior gasped.
"We have more than three hundred men in garrison," the Yatol said.
"More than enough to defeat the one or two hundred known to ride with Ashwarawu, even without defensive emplacements. And even if our losses -e heavy in the fight, ridding the land of that dog Ashwarawu will be worth the price. I will call to Jacintha for replacements, if need be, once the battle is won. ?Perhaps you should put out the call now, Yatol," Wan Atenn offered.
"Reinforce Dharyan before ordering the garrison out on the hunt."
"Dharyan is secure."
"There are goblins in the mountains to the north."
Carwan Pestle looked at the Chezhou-Lei warrior curiously after that re-mark. There had been no recent reports of any goblins forming in the mountains - not in any real numbers, anyway.
"You wished to poison the rebels, and so we tried, and so we failed," Ya-tol Grysh countered. ?How many embarrassments must I suffer at the hands of the dog Ashwarawu? No more, I say. He is said to be near Dancala Grysh, and so there you will go with my soldiers. And there he will die, and I will be bothered in hearing his name no more!"
Wan Atenn stiffened again, noticeably. ?I will not, Yatol," he said calmly. ?I am bound to remain by your side whenever I perceive that you are vul-nerable. And so you shall be if..." He paused and stared at the Yatol, then nodded hesitantly. ?When," he corrected, ?the garrison marches to Dan-cala Grysh. They will defeat Ashwarawu without me, I am sure."
Yatol Grysh stared coldly at the Chezhou-Lei warrior for a few moments, then gave a tension-breaking laugh.
"Press a hundred men into service to accompany the garrison," he said. ?It will take at least that many to make up for the absence of Wan Atenn in the battle for Dancala Grysh. And se-lect another hundred civilians to bolster our walls. The Shepherds can spare a couple of weeks away from their flocks, and this business should be promptly concluded. It saddens me that you will not be there as my per-sonal representative when Ashwarawu is killed, but I will not force you to abandon your vows to protect me."
with a click of his heels and a curt bow, Wan Atenn spun about and strode powerfully out of the room.
i do not think..." Carwan Pestle started to ask, but the Yatol cut him short.
I am weary and will retire now," he said. ?Come with me to my private quarters, that we might speak of these new decisions. Perhaps I will send you as my emissary to Dancala Grysh."
That remark certainly widened Carwan Pestle's eyes, but he held his tongue, obediently following his master from the audience hall, back to the lavish private quarters.
"Speak openly," Grysh said as he fell into a comfortable chair in a small and cozy room.
Carwan Pestle stammered over a couple of words.
"Speak, young Shepherd," the Yatol demanded. ?This is a glorious time Do you not understand?"
"You mean to chase Ashwarawu across the steppes, Yatol?" Pestle asked nervously. ?I thought that our policy of bolstering the defenses of the settle-ments slowly and deliberately, of encouraging walls to be built around every village, and of sending soldiers out to oversee the construction of proper defenses was becoming effective. Over the whole of the winter, Ashwarawu has not struck at a single village. Only caravans."
"Of course it has been effective," Grysh replied. ?Ashwarawu cannot risk defeat at a minor settlement when so little gain is to be found and so great is the possible loss. He will attack Dancala Grysh only if he perceives that there is little risk."
"The town is not the best defended of the settlements, at last assessment, but - " Carwan Pestle was stopped short by Grysh's renewed laughter.
"Wan Atenn understands," the Yatol explained. ?That is why the glory-hungry Chezhou-Lei refused to leave Dharyan."
Carwan Pestle's face screwed up with confusion, then his eyes gradually widened as he began to catch on.
"You believe that Ashwarawu will bypass Dancala Grysh and strike at Dharyan?" he asked incredulously.
"All signs are that his force has grown stronger," the Yatol reasoned. ?Ashwarawu's reputation lends courage to all the Ru, and each of his vic-tories sends more warriors flocking to join him. A great and significant vic-tory could mobilize the entire region of To-gai behind him. Ashwarawu is no fool. If he thinks we are weakened here, he will desire that significant victory - one that will carry him to greater glory over the course of the sum-mer. He knows that he cannot continue striking and running, that soon enough we will grow tired of him and send an army powerful enough to hunt him down and utterly destroy him - I am sure that he was a bit wor-ried when two twenty-squares marched into Dharyan at the beginning of the winter, fearing just that consequence. Thus he needs the big strike, the huge victory, to wave as a rallying pennant to the other To-gai-ru. He will come against us, and then he will be mine."
Carwan Pestle sat back and digested it all; and of course, it then made sense to him. All of it. For why would Wan Atenn ever have truly feared for Yatol Grysh and Dharyan with eight hundred soldiers camped within a day's march of the city? a coordinated plan, all a ruse designed to lure Ashwarawu, to the rebel leader think that the grandest prize of all was his for the tak- Carwan Pestle stared at Yatol Grysh with sincere admiration then, for man had been executing this one ruse since the unexpected arrival of Tacintha soldiers. Each movement he had made, each caravan sacrificed, ch accurate message slipped out to the Ru informants, had led to this hoped-ior conclusion.
"I know Ashwarawu better than Ashwarawu knows himself," the Yatol id with confidence. ?I understand the motivation behind the warrior. That motivation is pride, my young friend, and pride is the easiest human weakness to exploit. Oh yes, he will come. And he will die. And it will be a long time indeed before the Ru find the courage to stand against Behren again. Watch and learn well, my student, for you will likely succeed me and face the next Ashwarawu, and how disappointed I will be in Paradise if I look back upon the earthly realm to witness your failure."
Carwan Pestle nodded, and then, as Grysh exploded into another burst of laughter, let a smile spread across his face. As he considered all that had transpired over the winter - the caravans sent out as bait in very specific or-der and to very specific locations; the poisoning ruse, done merely to make Ashwarawu even more confident in himself and in his informants; the re-naming of the minor settlement - for no better reason, he now understood, than to make his desired defense of it seem more plausible. Carwan Pestle realized that he had very much to learn.
He recalled the last brutal lesson, at the riverbed and the Ru encamp-ment, and couldn't stop a shudder from running along his spine.
Brutal and effective.
Carwan Pestle trusted his teacher, even though he was terrified of the man.
"Our friend from Dharyan challenges us," Ashwarawu was telling his soldiers. ?He does not understand how we have grown."
"In numbers and in resolve," Pagonel, who was standing far to the side of the group, whispered so that only Brynn could hear.
The young ranger smiled; they had both heard this speech many times before.
The band was on a high ridge that day, looking down at the distant out-poster settlement, and the line of soldiers streaming into it. The estimates of their scouts had put the number of soldiers at near to four hundred, which made it almost twice as large as the force that Ashwarawu possessed, though his forces had more than doubled in the waning days of the winter season.
Still, the confident raiders believed that one To-gai-ru warrior was worth three Behrenese, at least.
"We will answer that challenge," Brynn heard the brave leader declare. On our terms and in our time."
"Do you think he will lead us against the settlement?" Brynn asked Pagonel.
The mystic shrugged. ?I do not think it a wise course, for though I be lieve that we would win, our losses would be heavy."
Brynn felt exactly the same way, but this was Ashwarawu they were speaking of, and so she had no idea if he would lead the charge or not.
The raider band camped on the ridge that night, sending out scouting arms to encircle the village, while other riders went out farther to the east looking for a certain informant at every determined rendezvous site.
Ya Ya Deng's information arrived the very next morning, confirming what the scouts had come to believe, that this was the Dharyan garrison, almost the whole of the Dharyan garrison, come out to fortify the settlement.
Once again, Ashwarawu convened his raiders on the ridge overlooking the busy village, and once again, Brynn and Pagonel sat astride their horses to the side of the main body of raiders.
"You seem troubled," Brynn remarked, as Ashwarawu began rousing his soldiers.
The mystic shook his head, his eyes never leaving the distant settlement. ?Yatol Grysh sends out his garrison so soon after the Jacintha soldiers leave Dharyan?"
"Ya Ya Deng claims that he will not have a village bearing his name fall to Ashwarawu. Perhaps that will inspire our leader to attack at once."
Her sarcasm was not lost on the mystic, but he remained too perplexed and unsure to comment on it. With Pagonel still looking down at the dis-tant settlement, Brynn turned her attention back to Ashwarawu.
"Yatol Grysh brings his forces here, out in the open, as a challenge to us and to all To-gai," Ashwarawu reasoned. ?He believes that this paltry force can defeat us!"
"No!" came the cries from many corners of the camp.
"Are we to accept this challenge?" Ashwarawu asked.
"Death to the Wraps!" one man cried, and another and then another echoed his sentiment.
Ashwarawu put on a wicked grin. ?Death to Yatol Grysh," he said. ?In his arrogance and frustration, he has erred, for his forces cannot match our pace as we ride to the east!"
"I think he just said that we are to attack Dharyan," Brynn remarked to Pagonel dryly.
That got the mystic's attention, and he looked to her, then turned to the distant Ashwarawu.
"Let us take the battle to Yatol Grysh's home, and see how strong his re-solve remains," Ashwarawu cried.
"Our enemy thinks so little of us that he empties his city in the hunt. He insults us and taunts us. How loud will his taunts resound when Dharyan is in flames?"
Tlr t last question elicited thunderous cheers from the gathering, as fierce tv as Brynn Dharielle had ever heard, and the woman joined in. p.gonel did not. He was looking back at the settlement, then, think- that this was all a bit too convenient. Certainly the rebels had discussed g king Dharyan before; they had even made arrangements, through Ya V Deng, to build some support within the city if a battle should be joined. 3gut no'W) so suddenly, Dharyan seemed ripe for the plucking.
Obviously so.
The raider band set out almost immediately, breaking down their camp with stunning efficiency and riding hard to the east. Dharyan was five days wav but Ashwarawu hoped to knock a full day off the journey, so that the city could be struck, perhaps even sacked, before the garrison now settled into the outposter village could hope to get back and help.
The rebel band eagerly accepted Ashwarawu's desired pace, even ex-ceeding it, so that the white walls of Dharyan and the great temple within were visible to them as they set their camp on the third night.
"Tomorrow will bring triumph or disaster," Brynn said to Pagonel.
"A resigned tone is not the voice of a warrior," the mystic observed. ?What do you fear?"
Brynn spent a long while sorting through her feelings, then answered quietly, ?It seems as if our enemy, Grysh, has erred in failing to understand the strength of our forces. Could he have been so foolish as to strip his walls of trained soldiers?"
"Or?" The mystic's prompting told Brynn that he knew everything she was thinking, that he had likely already sorted these confusing issues out in his own mind.
"Or he wanted us here," Brynn admitted. She gave a great sigh. ?But does not every leader faced with such a seemingly wondrous opportunity question it? And are not blunders, exactly like this one that Yatol Grysh has apparently made, often the turning point in a prolonged battle?"
'He does, and they are," the mystic answered.
"Then where does that leave us?"
In response, Pagonel nodded toward Ashwarawu, who was sitting near a small fire, chatting and laughing with some of the newer raiders. Whatever his faults, Brynn could not deny the love the raider band held for this man.
jhe saw them staring, awestricken, at him, looking up to him for guidance.
Looking up to Ashwarawu for hope.
I he next dawn came shrouded in a heavy overcast, and the To-gai-ru ?amp settled in quietly, drawing up their plans, readying their horses and weapons.
Various warriors were selected for various duties: strong riders to carry the torches to the base of the wall; the stealthiest of the group to lead the way in, scaling Dharyan's low wall and quickly and quietly finishing off the sentries.
Ashwarawu wasted no time in approaching Pagonel for this second task The Jhesta Tu were noted for the ability to follow the path of shadows, and with no more sound than a shadow might make!
The mystic stared up at the large and imposing man. This was not an easy moment for Pagonel, for if he accepted the duty, he would be thrust into combat. But this was a crucial moment for the raiders and for all of To-gai If Ashwarawu could win a victory here, in the largest Behrenese city in all the region, then his reputation would explode across the steppes and scores hundreds, perhaps thousands, of To-gai-ru would flock to join with him.
"I will help to clear the wall," the mystic agreed.
"As will I," Brynn added, and Ashwarawu looked at her curiously, as did his entourage of warriors, for the leader had not asked Brynn.
One of the large men standing beside Ashwarawu broke into laughter, and the others joined in, but Ashwarawu stopped them fast with an up-raised hand.
"You have proven your value as a warrior upon your horse," the leader explained to Brynn.
"I am stronger with the sword afoot," Brynn said. ?And have been trained well in the art of stealth. The Wraps will never know I am there."
Neither Ashwarawu nor his entourage seemed convinced, but what both-ered Brynn at that moment most of all was the incredulous, even disap-pointed, look that came back at her from Pagonel.
"You will ride in the line, where your fine bow will be of greatest value," the leader said, and he let his look linger long on Brynn, then walked away.
"Do not judge me," Brynn said to the mystic when they were alone again. ?Did you not just agree to become an assassin yourself?"
"The word does not flow prettily from your lips," Pagonel replied.
"The word?"
"Wraps," Pagonel explained. ?Speaking the word does not become you." He rose and bowed to her, then walked off, leaving her with her thoughts.
Wan Atenn stalked the wall of Dharyan all that day, for he and his Yatol knew well that Ashwarawu was near.
The fierce Chezhou-Lei relished the coming battle, and only hoped that he would get the chance to kill many of the hated Ru before the two twenty-squares closed upon them and utterly obliterated them.
Dare Wan Atenn hope that he might get a chance to kill Ashwarawu himself?
He had only two hundred men with which to defend the city, half of whom were mere peasants and certainly not skilled in the ways of disci-plined soldiers. He expected that Ashwarawu's band would number at least I despite what Yatol Grysh had predicted. And while Wan Atenn rhat he could easily kill any two of Ashwarawu's warriors, he did not nderestimate the ferocity of the Ru. The city had to hold firm, with little damage or loss of life, until the armies arrived.
When night fell and there remained no signs of the approaching raiders, v7 Atenn feared that Ashwarawu had sniffed out the trap. Perhaps the had noted the approach of one of the twenty-squares, the soldiers mov- into position barely an hour's march from the city. If that was the case, e Chezhou-Lei decided then and there that he would take up the soldiers and pursue the dog, all the way to western To-gai if necessary!
He was standing by the main gatehouse, instructing a handful of sentries, when the first unusual sound reached his ears, one that the other men in the gatehouse didn't even seem to notice, but one that piqued the interest of the superbly trained warrior.
"Hold fast your positions," the Chezhou-Lei warrior instructed, and he moved off, silent as death, along the wall.
Pagonel had little difficulty in getting to the base of Dharyan's wall unde-tected. Once there, the mystic fell into his life energy, willing it upward and in doing so, lightening his body.
The mystic ran his hand along the wall, feeling the grooves between the large stone blocks. When it had been constructed, a sandy mortar had been used to fill the seals between the stones, but the continual wind off the mountains and the steppes had cleared most of that fill away.
Pagonel was at the base of the highest point in the wall, but it was only a dozen feet, and the mystic went up it as easily as if he was crawling across a floor. At the top, he paused and listened, noting the approaching footsteps of a soldier - he knew that because he could hear the rattle of a weapon against armor.
Still hanging over the side, the mystic brought his legs up as high as he could and set them firmly, then listened, measuring the approach.
The Behrenese soldier spun to his left, facing out over the wall, as the form lifted past. Obviously confused, the soldier never even realized that the springing mystic had gone right above him. He was still staring out at the darkness when Pagonel came down atop him.
Pagonel's foot snap-kicked the man in the back as he descended, blasting away both breath and voice. And by the time the mystic landed lightly be-hind the dazed soldier, he had already put a twisting chokehold in place.
1 he soldier never regained enough balance to even offer resistance be-ore he lapsed into unconsciousness.
* agonel gently and quietly brought him down to the stone, then took his weapon from its sheath and tossed it over the wall.
Then the mystic trotted off, with absolute silence, making his way toward the gatehouse that centered the city's western wall.
He came upon a second soldier soon after, and a few quick moment later, tossed the unconscious man's weapon over the wall.
On he went, with the dark silhouette of the gatehouse in sight. He knew that there would be much more resistance within, likely several soldiers least. But he knew, too, that the Behrenese warriors would have more than him on their minds by that time, for out in the darkness to the west, the mystic heard the beginning hoofbeats of Ashwarawu's charge.
Ten horses, widely spaced, charged the Dharyan wall in a perfect line each skilled rider holding the same posture, with legs alone guiding their trusted mounts, a pair of oiled torches across their laps, flint and steel ready to strike. They pulled up as one a short distance from the wall and, ignoring the cries of sentries just then realizing that an attack had come, they struck their torches and held them aloft and out to the side.
Now came the main charge, Ashwarawu's warriors, Brynn among them, riding in hard in twenty orderly rows.
All had bows, arrows set, and arrow tips treated to burst into flame as soon as they passed the lead riders and touched tip to burning torch.
The archers rode past and let fly their missiles, then turned tight and or-derly turns, left and right, to circle for the next shot, setting another arrow as they went.
Brynn came past as the third in her line, and by the time she put her bow up, several fiery arrows had gone over the wall before her, illuminating the top enough for her to pick out the form of a scrambling soldier. With ex-pert skill and a trusted mount, Brynn began her turn before she let fly.
She caught the soldier center mass, the flames catching almost immedi-ately to his tunic. He waved his arms and ran about, frantically and futilely. By the time he fell off the wall, back into the city's courtyard, Brynn was al-ready coming around with her second arrow set.
Crouched on all fours, Pagonel scrambled along the wall. He saw one Behrenese man go up in flames, an arrow in his side, and heard the screams of others as arrows or flames bit at them. He saw a building within Dharyan begin to burn. The mystic didn't enjoy any of it. The whole concept of war-fare assaulted his sensibilities, for though the Jhesta Tu were superbly trained warriors, theirs was a pacific philosophy, one that touted battle as the last means of resort for self-defense.
What, then, was he doing there?
Pagonel couldn't stop to ponder the question, obviously, for he was nearing the gatehouse. He winced as he heard the first To-gai-ru scream of pain; he recognized the voice of one of his sneaky companions, not so far away, accom-panied by the swishing sound of a sword and the thud of the weapon's impact.
Small alcove holding the mechanisms to the gate in sight, nel went up straighter and ran on.
kidded to a stop, though, reversed his momentum, and leaped into a V^Vc kspin, as an imposing figure rushed out of that alcove at him, a Curved' sword slashing across at waist height.
IP onel landed in a defensive stance, ready to advance or retreat as nec-but his attacker had not come on, but stood there on the parapet, hng at him with obvious surprise. The mystic recognized the overlapping nnor plates of the Chezhou-Lei warrior.
"Thesta Tu?" Wan Atenn asked incredulously, his face a mask of outrage.
Paconel narrowed his eyes and went lower in the crouch, ready to face the Chezhou-Lei, avowed enemies of his order.
With a roar, Wan Atenn came on hard, his curved sword slashing down, then across, then back across, then up and over to come down diagonally yet again, the Chezhou-Lei taking care to cut through every possible angle of attack.
With only his hands and feet for weapons, Pagonel was forced to back away in response.
Wan Atenn did not take that as any sign of advantage, though. He under-stood the Jhesta Tu well enough to let caution temper his strikes. He did come forward, stabbing once, twice, and nearly scoring a hit with each.
But like a mongoose dodging a striking snake, Pagonel stayed just ahead of his attacker. His dodges were subtle, a simple twist or bend, for the first Jhesta Tu rule of fighting an opponent of obvious skill was to conserve your energy. Without a staff or sword with which to parry and open an attack path, Pagonel had to count on this one tiring, on the Chezhou-Lei launch-ing an attack slow enough for him to deflect and turn the blade far away, and rush in behind the strike.
The sword came out straight again, then went in, up and over in a flash as the warrior charged the mystic.
Pagonel skittered forward instead of back, diving into a roll past Wan Atenn on the narrow parapet, as that deadly sword began its downward slice.
wan Atenn roared and spun about suddenly, recovering so quickly that Pagonel had barely begun his turn and charge before the blade was there, barring the way.
"Why are you here, Jhesta Tu?" the Chezhou-Lei demanded. ?Is the fight of the To-gai-ru the fight of the Jhesta Tu?"
1 agonel didn't answer, because Pagonel had no answer.
rite erupted farther within the city - not the burning caused by the rain lo-gai-ru arrows, but a singular, planned blaze that soared high into the nighttime sky on the tip of a great ballista bolt.
It didn't seem aimed at the opposing To-gai-ru forces, didn't really seem aimed at anything. It just arced slowly, high above the city, rolling out on driving winds to the east.
Pagonel watched it with dismay, for he knew it for what it was, even before Wan Atenn grinned at him and said, ?We are not surprised. If tk Jhesta Tu have chosen to side with the Tb-gai-ru, then the Jhesta Tu hav chosen wrorigly. Watch, mystic, if you live long enough, as the jaws of doom close over Ashwarawu and his murderous companions."
Pagonel didn't understand the details of it all, but they hardly seemed important at that moment. He recognized the signal flare for what it was and was not surprised when he heard the blast of teeyodel horns, both north and south.
Before he could begin to sort through it all, the fierce Chezhou-Lei came at him again, and the mystic was rolling and leaping, dodging and turning and ultimately, backing.
He realized that he was running out of room when he heard the cries of a Behrenese soldier behind him, coming on fast.
Her shouts lost in the commotion about her, Brynn galloped Runtly all along Dharyan's western wall, letting fly arrow after arrow, some aflame - on those occasions when she got near to a torchbearer - and others just tak-ing scrambling sentries from the wall top. With each subsequent run, she held closer to the center of activity, the gatehouse, where the wooden doors were burning and Ashwarawu, on his strong black-and-white pony, had backed up close, urging his mount to kick at the weakening wood.
His soldiers about him fired their bows at any atop the wall who tried to draw a bead on their leader, while other To-gai-ru scrambled up the wall, throwing themselves over the top, into the midst of their enemies, with abandon.
The sheer fury of the attack, the sheer bravery and inspiration of Ash-warawu, seemed to Brynn as if it would win the day, as if they would score a huge victory here. While she didn't entertain any illusions that so small a force as this could conquer a city as large as Dharyan, she felt certain that they would inflict a serious wound against Behren here, and return as he-roes to the steppes.
Brynn gritted her teeth with determination as she watched a pair of her comrades run to the base of the wall, just to the side of the gatehouse, a huge skin of oil held between them. They rocked it and tossed it up over the wall, and an archer hit it squarely as it went over, the fiery arrow punc-turing the skin, creating a huge fireball.
But then Brynn took note of a second flame, a fiery missile arcing over the dark Dharyan sky.
She tried to ignore it, focusing on her aim, and even took another Behre-nese soldier from the wall.
She couldn't ignore the continuing distant blare of horns, though, to the north and to the south, and sounding closer with every blast.
nlv rvan's gate seemed about to fall, but Brynn's stomach tightened with trepidation.
Th ugh he hated the thought of turning his back on a Chezhou-Lei war- Pagonel spun suddenly to slow the charge of two Behrenese warriors.
"?caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, of something coming Behind him, Wan Atenn charged. Before him, the Behrenese stopped to trike defensive postures, then turned suddenly, surprised, as a twisting rm rolled over the wall. Pagonel threw himself backward, falling to his butt and rolling over.
The oilskin exploded, immolating the two Behrenese, startling and blind-ing Wan Atenn.
Pagonel came around and kicked upward, his feet catching the Chezhou- still had his sword up over his head - in the gut, just under the rib cage. The mystic extended full out, double-kicking, but shortening the blow with his right leg, which was closer to the courtyard, and extending fully through with his left, diving the Chezhou-Lei backward and turning him with the kick.
Pagonel came back to his feet on the edge of the parapet, with Wan Atenn falling hard behind him, to the city courtyard. The mystic could have leaped at the Chezhou-Lei then, trying to finish him with a single, clean kick.
But he knew the truth, and he hadn't the time.
He went to the wall then and looked to the south, and saw the torches of the approaching force - a force of hundreds, he realized.
"Fly away!" the mystic cried to the warriors outside the wall, and he climbed atop the crenelation, preparing to leap into the tumult below, wav-ing his arms in an attempt to garner some attention. ?A trap! Fly away!"
But his voice was a whisper amidst the thunder of battle.
Expecting his enemy to be leaping down at him, Wan Atenn braced him-self and set his sword above him.
When nothing followed him down, and as his breath came back to him, the proud warrior pulled himself from the ground. He wanted nothing more than to scramble back up and pay back the wretched Jhesta Tu, but he could not, he realized - not then. Ignoring the two soldiers burning and thrashing on the ground near to him, the Chezhou-Lei stalked to the gate.
He looked back to see the rest of his command coming forth, as they had been ordered, moving out from the shadows of the nearest buildings toward the gatehouse. He pointed to the commander of the group, then to - burning and falling door, then leaped to a ladder beside the gatehouse and made his way back up.
Confusion had taken the field immediately outside the gate by that point, as the torches of the two twenty-squares drew nearer and nearer and th To-gai-ru came to understand the truth of the trap. Wan Atenn could not spot the hated Jhesta Tu in the scramble, but he did see another figure, on that he knew at once.
Ashwarawu remained at the base of the door, his horse bucking and kick ing hard at the wood, the leader howling out for the continuing charge de spite the obvious forthcoming turn in the battle.
Ashwarawu!
Suddenly, Wan Atenn forgot all about the Jhesta Tu mystic. He moved to the gatehouse directly above the door, shoving aside those few guards re-maining inside the structure and ignoring the fight just to the side, where several To-gai-ru had managed to scale the wall.
His focus was below.
The doors went down and Wan Atenn's main garrison charged out into the thrash of To-gai-ru, streaming past Ashwarawu, whose great sword cut down one man and then another.
Smiling widely, the Chezhou-Lei warrior leaped down from above.
Her bow back in place at the side of her saddle, sword in hand, Brynn brought Runtly in tight maneuvers, chopping away at one Behrenese de-fender after another. The door was down, the enemy flowing out to meet the attack right there in the bottleneck of the gate.
Not enough enemies to overwhelm the attackers, Brynn knew - not com-ing from inside the fortified city, at least.
The torches she glimpsed to the north and to the south, though, made it clear to her that the time had come for a full retreat.
Amidst it all, she saw Ashwarawu, slashing away, chopping down enemy after enemy and howling gleefully with each devastating strike. He seemed so much larger than those around him, so above the battlefield, a god among mortal men, that Brynn found herself second-guessing her instinct to retreat. Could the strength of Ashwarawu take them through the bloody night?
But then a form dropped beside the large warrior, expertly taking him down to the ground.
Brynn forged Runtly in her leader's direction, but she got cut off by a pair of Behrenese entwined with a To-gai-ru rider, and she had to put her sword to fast work to save her compatriot from getting pulled down from his mount.
By the time she looked back toward the gate, Ashwarawu and the man who had dropped upon him were up and facing each other. The raider pulled a huge axe off his back and slashed out wildly.
But he was dazed, it seemed to Brynn, and his overaggressive attack got nowhere near to hitting, while it left him off-balance.
His opponent expertly backed to the side, then came in behind Ash- 's strike, stepping forward with the horizontal slash, his fine sword the raider leader's belly. Ashwarawu leaped back and doubled over nd the enemy came forward in a crouch, turning his sword, then 'ahtened fast, lifting the blade and skinning Ashwarawu's face from chin Brvnn cringed at the explosion of crimson mist, at the pitiful sight of A hvarawu, standing there, arms outstretched down and to the side, back , S t sightly and his head thrown back from the sheer force of the devastat- Brvnn's horror only increased, as well as her fear of this amazing enemy, the Behrenese warrior spun a complete circle, gaining momentum for his flying blade, and brought it across perfectly to lop Ashwarawu's head from his shoulders.
The woman exploded into motion again, forcing her horse about, scream-ing for a full retreat, even slapping the rumps of To-gai-ru ponies to spur them on their exit from the battlefield.
Many died right there, more Behrenese than To-gai-ru, but most of the raider band did turn and extract themselves from the mob, riding hard to the west, in a long and unorganized line.
Through it all, Brynn strained to find her one friend among the raiders, a mystic who had become much more to her than mere ally. But she couldn't find him, not on the wall nor in the tumult.
He was likely dead or captured on the other side of the wall, she realized, and with that grim and unsettling thought in mind, and with nothing left for her here in the frenzy, the woman turned Runtly to the west and kicked lim hard, sending him leaping away and trampling a pair of Behrenese sol-diers in the process.
She went back to her bow almost immediately after she had broken free, fting her leg over her saddle and turning in one stirrup so that she was fac-ig backward. Arrow after arrow flew back into the Behrenese ranks.
She off nearly ten shots before she was out of practical range, and before she leard the sounds of battle yet again, being joined to the south of her.
linking only to aid her countrymen, Brynn cut her horse to the south, and saw the truth of their doom.
Ranks of Behrenese, Jacintha soldiers, swarmed over the retreating To-?ai-ru, both south and north, closing like the jaws of a killer wolf upon their?rey. Tears in her eyes, thinking it all at an end, Brynn plunged right into x wild fight.
She dealt a few blows and took a few in return, and for a while, got the est of those around her - so much so that many started to flee from her rather than engage.
t she was growing weary, was bleeding from several wounds, and stand- l out so tall among the overwhelmed To-gai-ru certainly invited disaster, arrow drove hard into Brynn's side, cracking through her ribs and piercing her lung. All the world swam in blurry grayness then, the woman's orientation fading away.
She slumped forward over Runtly's neck, lost in the swirl of pain - -so lost that she did not see the imposing Behrenese rider come up right beside her his curved sword poised to finish the task that the arrow had surely begun ' For Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie, this was a crowning moment of glory one that would elevate him within the ranks of his mighty order. This To-' gai-ru woman had fought valiantly in the brief exchange out here, as many of Dahmed Blie's warriors had witnessed. So he had managed to separate her and have her shot down, and now many would look on as he killed her claiming the prize as his own.
He lifted his sword above his head and brought his mount up beside the brown-and-white To-gai pinto.
A form, a man, came up over Runtly's other side in a great leap.
Pagonel hooked his foot on the saddle and flank as he crested the pony's back, right behind the slumping Brynn, his shin going down atop the pony's broad back, affording him balance. His lead foot went out ahead, planting against the side of the stunned Chezhou-Lei's mount, but that foot did not break the Jhesta Tu mystic's momentum, for it was not the first con-tact. That came in the form of Pagonel's thrusting hand, his stiffened fingers perfectly aimed to jab into the surprised Chezhou-Lei's throat, driving through the man's skin and shattering his windpipe.
They held the pose for a long moment, the Chezhou-Lei's sword slipping from his grasp to fall harmlessly into the dirt on the other side of his horse. Slowly, Dahmed Blie's trembling hands reached for Pagonel's extended arm.
The Jhesta Tu mystic snapped free his bloody hand, then pulled back with his hooked foot, bringing him back fully to Brynn's pony. He gathered up the woman in his arms and urged the pony to leap away.
Behind him, Dahmed Blie fell over forward, but was well-secured in his saddle, which turned over with him, leaving the dead warrior dangling in the bloody dirt below his horse.
Away from the battlefield to the south, Pagonel gently lowered the griev-ously wounded woman to the sand.
He reached inside himself, to the source of his life and his power, and brought forth warmth to his hands, gently massaging the wound, where the arrow still protruded from the side of Brynn's chest. He knew that he had to pull the arrow forth, but first he needed to lend her strength, to channel it from his own body and into hers.
Pagonel heard the vultures overhead, heard the cries on the distant bloody field, of men dying in the dirt, helplessly.
He blocked them out. He focused on Brynn, sent his energy into her.
And then he stopped, his eyes going wide, as he came to know that he not alone here, or at least, that his energy was not the only healing agic flowing into Brynn's frail body.
j r beret! Pagonel knew then that there was an enchantment upon it.
The mystic nearly chuckled aloud, musing that he had just discovered thehy powries were so tough. But even with the aid of the beret, onel could not find any mirth, for he wasn't sure that it would be enough. He worked with her for nearly an hour. Then, exhausted, and with the bloody arrow lying on the ground, the mystic hoisted Brynn back up, laying r across Runtly's back. He took up the pony's reins and started off again to the south.
Spring slipped into summer before Pagonel and Brynn, who was still co-matose from her only slightly improved wounds, entered the region known as the Mountains of Fire. At the base of the five-thousand-step climb to the Walk of Clouds, the mystic stripped the gear from Runtly and gave him a slap, sending him running off in the direction of the low fields, where other horses ran wild.
Then the mystic put the weak Brynn across his shoulders and started his climb, not stopping until he had reached the secluded monastery.
The stares of disbelief that greeted his arrival were not unexpected, for the mystic had surely broken nearly every covenant concerning bringing visitors unannounced to the Walk of Clouds.
Not the least of those surprised looks came to him from Master Cheyes, his mentor.