Two-Edged Blade

:Kerowyn—:

:You have to help me get loose,: he demanded, interrupting her, his mental voice voice shaking, but firm beneath the fear. :I’ve got to get back to report!:

:Fine,: she told him. :What’s it worth to you? Or should I say, to Valdemar?:

That stopped him. :What?: He seemed baffled rather than shocked. He literally did not understand what she meant; that was crystal clear from his thoughts.

:What is it worth to you to be freed? How much,: she repeated patiently. :Money, my friend. What’s the reward for getting you loose? I’m not in this for my health. There’re easier ways of making a living :

:!—: he faltered, :I—I thought you were a Herald—:

Silence then, as he began to take in the fact that she plainly was something else.

:Obviously not, friend. To clarify things for you, I’m a professional soldier. A mercenary. Now do you want me to get you free, or not?: She couldn’t resist a little barb. :Those irons are going to be very hot in a moment.:

She waited for him to respond, and it didn’t take long. He named a figure. She blinked in surprise; it was more than she would have considered asking, and she would have expected to be bargained down. Either he’s more important than I thought, or he has an inflated opinion of his own worth. Either way, I’m holding him to it.

:Bond on it?: she asked.

He gave his bond, seeming a little miffed that she’d asked. :My Companion will help you on this, too,: he added.

Well, that only bore out everything Tarma had told her about the spirit-horses. :All right —: she said, and noted that he seemed a little surprised that she took that last so calmly. :Here’s what we’ll do....:

The Karsites had counted on the fact that they were in a blind canyon to protect them from attack on three of the four sides, and probably were assuming that since the canyon was thickly wooded, that would make fighting difficult for an opponent. But while the slope Kero was hidden on was indeed steep, it was not too steep for a Shin’a’in warsteed. And she had trained in the woods.

They charged “silently,” without a cry, Kero knowing that the Karsites would not recognize the crashing of her horse through the underbrush for an attack until it was too late. She had her bow out, and neither her aim nor her arrows had suffered from lack of practice. The enemy fighters silhouetted themselves most considerately against the fire; she picked off four of the Karsite guards, two of them with heart-shots and two through the throat, while still on the way in.

Already battle fever had her, and her world narrowed to target; response. There was no room for anything else.

Meanwhile, commotion at the mouth of the canyon signaled the Companion’s charge. Kero had felt a little guilty about putting the unarmed horse there, but the Companion was not going to be able to cut Eldan free, and she was.

Hellsbane skidded to a halt beside the kneeling Herald, and Kero swung her leg over the saddle-bow and vaulted off her back, letting off another arrow and getting a fifth score as she did so.

Weeks spent behind the Karsite lines had given her a rough command of their language; she heard the shouts, and realized that from the plurals being used that they had mistaken the gray warsteed for a white Companion, and herself for another Herald—it would have been funny, if she’d had any time to think about it.

She slashed at the Herald’s bonds, while the Companion charged down and trampled two more Karsites in his way, and Hellsbane reared on her haunches and bashed out the brains of a third. The ropes to his ankles and wrists were easy enough to handle, but just as she was getting ready to saw at the thongs binding Eldan’s arms to the log, two more of the Karsites rushed her. She tossed a knife at the Herald’s feet while parrying the first Karsite’s rather clumsy attack. He was easily dispatched, but his friend arrived, and another with him—

Hellsbane got there first, half-reared and got the first from behind, and the Companion fought his way to the Herald’s side. Now at least she didn’t need to worry about having to guard him while he cut himself free.

She thought she’d been hit a couple of times, but the wounds didn’t hurt. Since they weren’t slowing her down, she ignored them as usual. The horses were doing the job of four or five fighters, charging and trampling every sign of organization and scattering people before them like frightened quail—and Kero began to think this was going to work-Then she wheeled to face an opponent she sensed coming up behind her—