Two men trotted into view. They wore the same leather coats and molded leather helmets she'd seen on the armed men who had marched into her village. One of the men carried a red banner marked with three black waves enclosed in a black circle, similar in cut to the banner she had seen that terrible day, although the banner those men carried had had four stripes.
The soldiers scented death before they saw it. They moved
hesitantly forward, then spotted the dead men and, last, the waiting eagle. Backing up hastily, they called to unseen companions. One man hoisted his bow and, hands shaking, fitted an arrow.
Fly. Fly.
As if it heard her thoughts, the eagle spread its wings, thrust, and beat hard. It rose agonizingly slowly, and the archer loosed an arrow. But the shaft went wide, and the eagle was aloft, out of range, as Nallo sucked in a breath, dizzied, her pulse thundering in her ears.
The men shook fists at the sky, then split up to investigate the scene of the battle. As they prodded the corpses, another dozen men came up behind, a straggling, undisciplined line that collapsed into commotion with a lot of shouting and cursing.
'Get on! Get on!' they cried, hurrying forward as if something more dreadful than an eagle was chasing them.
She and Jerad hid as the afternoon wore on, while groups of men passed at erratic intervals, fleeing northeast into the Soha Hills. Those who staggered into sight panting and exhausted found strength to move on when they spotted the dead. She grinned. They were beaten, whipped, frightened and disoriented, a beast without a head to lead the way.
'Did you see Captain Mani? He was burned alive. I saw the bones in his face while he was still screaming…'
'Captain Mani's dead? Then who's in charge?'
'We have to reach Walshow. There'll be captains there to tell us what to do…'
'We've not going fast enough. If they catch us, they'll kill us. They're demons.'
'Is the lord dead? Can he be dead?'
'Did you see the tent burning? The fire stuck to it. Water wouldn't put it out. No one could escape such sorcery.'
'They promised us! Said nothing would stand in our way'
'Neh. This was a test. Those who didn't truly trust the lords' power, died. But we survived, didn't we?'
'Heh, so we did. We spoke the proper prayers and offered the proper sacrifices, not like the others. We'll be admitted to the real army-'
'Aui! Look! Eagles!'
Three eagles swooped past. Shouting, the men ran. The eagles rose higher into the sky with an eerie glide, wings not beating. These eagles carried reeves slung into harnesses that dangled beneath, leaving their arms free to hold weapons. Trapped in the brush, she lost sight of them, but she heard the hammer of hooves as a company of horsemen approached at speed.
'Run! Run!' the men cried.
It was too late.
Up the path swept a score of horsemen, black wolves on the hunt. They harvested the fleeing soldiers with swift strokes. Half rode on, up the path, while others spread into the woodland on the trail of men who bolted into the trees. She dared not move; she scarcely breathed. Men screamed as they were cut down. The mounted soldiers called to one another with calm shouts. One dismounted to survey the corpses killed by the eagle. He was an older man, somewhat older than her husband, although it was difficult to tell his age. He had an outlander's look, with a broad face and pronounced cheekbones, a mustache but no beard, and noble eyes that flicked restlessly over the scene. She held her breath as his gaze passed over the pipe brush, but he looked away. He walked to the spot where the eagle had stood guard over Jerad. He knelt, touched the ground as if the ground could speak to him, then rose. Briskly, he walked directly to the stand of pipe-brush, halted, and spoke.
'Come out.' His words were strangely accented and a little difficult to understand.
She didn't move.
He sighed. 'Come out. You are in there. With you is another one.'
Maybe he was only guessing.
He hacked through the pipe-brush above her head, shearing it off. Leaves showered her. Stalks rattled onto her body. He stepped back and waited.
He might still go away.
He tilted his head, rubbed his chin, and took another step back. She heard crashing in the brush, male laughter, and — like a stab in the heart — a woman's sobs. Two black-clad riders emerged onto the path within her line of sight. Using their spears as prods, they were driving Avisha in front of them. She had Zi clutched to her chest.
Her eyes were red from weeping, her hair tangled in disarray. She shivered with terror as the men looked her over.
'Pretty girl,' said the older man, measuring her.
Nallo rose and pushed through the brush, splintering stalks in her haste to get to the path before they could do anything awful to Avisha. She flung herself to her knees before the older man. 'Don't kill us, I pray you. We've done you no harm. Don't kill us. Take me if you must, but leave the girl alone.'
The laughing soldiers fell silent. The older man pulled off his helmet. He had a pleasant face, even if he did look and talk like a foreigner.
'The pretty girl, she is your sister? You not look alike.'
'She's my husband's daughter.'
'Your husband, where is he?'
'He is dead.'
She cursed herself silently the moment she said it, but the man nodded as he looked from her to Avisha and Zianna, then past them. Jerad came running, and he flung himself at Avisha and hid his face against the fabric of her tunic.
'You are walking from your house to your kinfolk, maybe?'
'That's right. They're expecting us.'
He rubbed his chin again, looked over at the younger soldiers where they guarded the children. 'Maybe they are dead, also.'
Three soldiers appeared on the path above and studied the scene, grinning as they spoke to their companions. Farther away, a man's shriek cut off abruptly.
'Please don't hurt us.' Her mouth formed soundless prayers.
He shifted his sword to the same hand that was also holding his helmet, and with his free hand wiped sweat and maybe blood from his eyes, careful as he cleaned his brows, rather like the eagle in his fastidiousness. One of the younger men spoke in rapid words she could not understand, and the older man laughed and, with a friendly smile — or perhaps a mocking one — turned back to her.
' My young comrade wants to know if you and the pretty girl are looking for husbands. We are looking for wives.'
Why had they to suffer all this, and now more besides? Anger boiled over, and words spilled out. 'We can't stop you from doing what you want. But don't mock us by calling us 'wives'!'
He laughed, face crinkling. 'Whew! My ears are burning. You remind me of my wife, may she find peace.'
'Then if you have a wife, you can't be looking for a wife.'
'She's dead many years. I am not mocking you.' He offered an affable grin. 'Maybe I am having a little fun. We could rape you and kill you. This is true. But that gives pleasure for a moment, and not much pleasure when you come to think of it afterward. Maybe we are wanting something different. We are new to this country. We intend to settle in lands west and north of Olossi. So, if you are looking for husbands, I know where some can be found.' He indicated the five mounted men.
Startled by this speech, she really examined the soldiers. They looked different from Hundred folk in having broad cheekbones and scant beards, but she could tell them apart even with the helmets covering their hair: one had a long, dour face and small eyes, and another a big grin and two missing teeth. One had pox scars and a
