anger. He cried out in a high-pitched voice and fled, stumbling and falling into the fire and being badly singed before his fellows dragged him out. The bear riders were of a rough humor and thought this a capital joke. Fost read darker implications in it.
'So you're herding these two-legged sheep to Athalau' Vancha said, her immense paw settling on his arm. She nodded toward the Ethereals, who sat like so many pallid statues. Silently Fost counted the unmoving figures. They didn't number one hundred. There was only one way of learning if they would be enough for the dangerous task ahead of them.
'Well, we're glad to strike a blow against the foul lizards. We'll gladly escort you to the Gate of the Mountains, won't we, Jennas?'
'What say?' Jennas asked, shaking herself. 'Oh, yes, we must do anything we can to help. Ust wills it.'
Vancha's pig eyes, as green and hard as emeralds, narrowed into slits amid fat.
'Something's eating you, girl.' The eyes flicked to Fost. 'I think I know what it is, too.' 'Thank you, Vancha, but you do not know.'
Fost studied the hetwoman. He had thought her handsome at first, but in the months they had spent together chasing Moriana all over the Sundered Realm, he had come to know the beauty in her strongly sculpted features, her high, proud cheekbones and close-cropped shock of reddish hair. And in ways he loved her, though he told himself Moriana took preeminence.
He hated himself for hurting her, but she knew from the start that he loved Moriana and would go to her if possible. It hadn't stopped them from becoming lovers.
It would be harder for Jennas to understand why they couldn't resume their relationship. He set down his mug, stretched, managed a good imitation of a yawn that turned into the real thing. 'It has been one hell of a day,' he said. 'I'm going to bed.'
Vancha rose and gave him a fond, spine-crushing squeeze. Across the campfire Ziore told dirty jokes to the younger warriors. She knew a surprising number for a nun. The trip to Medurim had given her more than any of the warriors.
He nodded to Jennas, not able to meet her eyes. He turned and walked off into the darkness, away from them, away from Synalon, too. It had all become too much for him. He wanted only to be alone.
He heard the crunch of a step behind him. His spine turned icy with premonition.
'Fost.' It was Jennas, soft-voiced, diffident. 'There's something I must tell you.' She took him by the shoulders. Her hands were slapped away.
'Get away from him!' screamed Synalon. I'll share him with my sister, but he's not going to be soiled by any filthy barbarian bitch!'
Jennas turned to face the sorceress. Her face was calm in the orange firelight. Around the fire voices were raised, asking what was amiss. Torches were lifted and the bear riders came at a run, sensing something deadly wrong.
'You thought to sneak off with him and seduce him,' hissed Synalon. 'Perhaps you got away with this before. But he's too good for the likes of you!' 'He can make his own choices,' Jennas said in a level voice.
'He'll not choose you!' Synalon lunged forward. Fost caught the flash of steel and gasped. The bear riders growled and closed in.
'No! Get back!' cried Jennas as she sidestepped, dodging the gleaming arc of Synalon's dagger. 'It's between me and her! Leave us be!' Reluctantly, the bear riders stopped where they stood.
'That's enough,' Jennas told Synalon. 'I've no quarrel with you.'
'I challenge you!' spat Synalon. Her face was an icy mask of fury. 'I'll not even use magic. But still I'll have your heart, you slut!'
She lunged forward, her right arm a blur. Jennas jumped back, not quite fast enough. The slim dagger opened a long gash in her arm. Her face hardened. A heavy-bladed knife appeared in her right hand. She crouched, holding the weapon low for a disembowelling stroke, while Synalon circled her like a stalking panther. 'Fost, Fost, what's going on?' cried Ziore. 'Can't you stop them?'
He started forward.
'No!' Jennas cried without turning. 'You can do nothing. This was meant to be.'
Synalon moved in. Jennas's blade met hers with a skirring sound. Grimacing, the princess struck again and again. She could not penetrate the steel ring of Jennas's defenses. With a catlike scream of rage, Synalon launched herself at Jennas. Though the bear rider was heavier, Synalon bore her to the ground. But only for a moment. Jennas's brawny arm caught Synalon by one pale shoulder and flung her away.
In an instant Jennas was astride the prostrate princess, eyes wide, dagger poised for the deathstroke. Then the killing light went out of her eyes. She lowered her arm.
Synalon thrust upward. The needle-slim blade bit through mail and leather, punctured skin, slipped between ribs to pierce the woman's heart. Jennas jerked, reeled backward and fell heavily. The sorceress jumped to her feet waving the bloody dagger.
'Kill her! Kill the bitch!' somebody cried as the bear riders rushed to their chieftain's aid.
'No!' Jennas's voice was strong but ragged with pain. 'It – ah! – it was a fair fight. She challenged and I accepted.' 'She struck when you stayed your hand,' growled a bear rider.
'The fight was fair.' Jennas's body shook. She clamped her jaw against the pain. Blood welled around her teeth. 'You must not harm her. She must yet play her part or all… oh… all is lost.' She looked around wildly.
'Vancha! Promise me. You will aid the outlanders as we promised. Do it for our people, or they shall… pass.'
The redhead thrust herself forward, shouldering aside the warriors as if they were children. 'I will,' she said through the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Jennas's back arched. When the spasm passed, she said weakly, 'Fost.'
'I'm here.' He knelt by her side and took her head, cradling it in his lap. His own face shone with tears.
'I know,' she said in an almost normal voice. 'Do not blame yourself. This was all… foretold.' She seized his arm in an iron grip. 'Keep well, Longstrider. For the sake of your people and mine. .. and your golden-haired princess. And, ah… remember Jennas, who loved you.' Her head rolled back on lifeless muscles.
The Ust-alayakits surged toward Synalon, raising blades and torches. A huge figure stepped between them and her. An axe head glittered against the stars, came howling down to split a stone in a shower of sparks.
'No!' roared Vancha Broad-Ax. 'You'll obey our hetwoman's command or I swear I'll butcher the lot of you!' Her face dissolved in tears, her huge body shaking. But the fat-ringed hands that gripped the black haft were as steady as rock. All knew that what Vancha Broad-Ax promised, she performed. The Ust-alayakits drew back.
Heedless, Fost let Jennas fall and lunged for Synalon, ripping his sword from his scabbard.
'You murdering bitch!' he shouted, cocking his arm to run her through.
'Will it be you to break the oath, then?' she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 'What do you mean?'
'The oath we swore in Tolviroth Acerte. Was it just words to you?' 'But you've broken it, you murderous… thing. You killed Jennas.'
'Oh? Perhaps my memory fails me,' she said, tilting her head as if listening to a distant voice. 'When we swore that oath together, I do not recall Jennas being there.'
The strength went out of Fost. His sword tip drooped to the ground. His knees gave way beneath him. He sensed a nearness, looked up to see Vancha against the stars.
'What Jennas commanded shall be done, outlander,' she said. 'We shall aid you in reaching the Gate of the Mountains, and you and your witch-woman will come to no harm. But I beg you, stay out of my sight from this moment on. I would not betray my hetwoman's last wish!'
With a sob, she turned and fled. One by one, the Ust-alayakits turned and walked away until he was alone with Synalon and Ziore and a grief as boundless as the uncaring skies above.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Fost stared in amazement. When the bird rider patrol had spotted them at the head of the pass and winged
