Jaran

'Everyone go except the archers,' said Bakhtiian.

'But-'

At the sudden silence, the priest ceased wailing and lowered his hands from his face.

'Go!'

Twelve left. Tess saw them, quiet and swift, and heard their horses pounding away up the trail. The priest looked up, confused. Then he stood, dropping the spear, and the white cloth fluttered to the ground.

Bakhtiian closed his hand on the thin white fabric of her blouse. And hesitated. 'I can't do this.'

'Damned male.' Tess kicked him, swung with an arm, and squirmed for the edge of the wall. The priest hid his eyes and yelled again at the soldiers behind him to stay back, adding a string of incomprehensible, hysterical words.

Tess's legs lay half off the wall on the upper side, Yuri crouched beneath her. Bakhtiian lay half across her chest, his left arm pinning her to the rock. Cold edges thrust into her back. His head rested two hands above hers, shading her from the sun. He was not looking at her, but staring down at the priest, a small figure in white and blue far below. She noticed how the waves of his dark hair flowed in patterns that had the same sweep and curve and richness as rose petals. A breeze cooled her cheek.

'Now what?' she asked.

Bakhtiian looked down at her. His mouth twitched. 'I think I'm going to start laughing.'

Tess shut her eyes and choked back a giggle, gulping in the thin air. Six of them left. Someone was not going to make it up that trail. 'How long do you think they're going to believe this?' she cried, not at him really but at the fate that had brought them here. She pushed at him, trying to get free. 'Yuri!' yelled Bakhtiian. 'Get her out of here.' To the others: 'Ready!'

Yuri hauled her off the wall. Bakhtiian jumped down after. Faintly, she heard yelling from the priest, orders being given. Tears blurred her sight. Yuri dragged her away toward the horses.

'We can't leave them!' Tess pulled away from him. An arrow struck the ground and skittered to a stop a meter from her. Yuri grabbed her at the elbow and yanked her forward, shoving her into Myshla.

'Mount!' he yelled, as if she were deaf. She swung up reflexively. More arrows peppered the packed dirt, too spent to penetrate. 'Come on, Tess.'

Far below, a man cried out in pain.

'Ilya got one. Damn it, Tess. Ride.' He wheeled his horse back and slapped Myshla on the rump. Four arrows hit, and one stuck in the earth. Myshla moved, ears cocked forward. Tess urged her to a trot, hearing the swell of shouts and cries from below. She looked back: four jaran men crouched behind the upper wall, their shirts like blood against the black stone, shooting.

'Yuri!' She waved frantically at him. 'They can't hold them!' She reined Myshla back.

'Ride, Tess!' He reined his horse in, waiting for her, impatient, angry, scared. The horses sidestepped, catching their fear. Myshla neighed, calling to those left behind.

'Mikhal. Konstans. Go.' Bakhtiian's voice carried easily in the clear air. Bent low, the two men ran for their horses and started after Tess and Yuri. Behind, the last mounts shifted nervously.

'What if they bolt?' she yelled.

'Then they're dead. Damn it, Tess. Damn it. Ride!' He came close enough finally to grab Myshla's bridle and start dragging her. Tess still stared behind. They came to the head of the trail, where it wound up between rocks until a sharp corner hid its path.

'Go!' Yuri waved her ahead. Mikhal and Konstans neared, cantering. She could not see the stretch of wall that sheltered Bakhtiian and Tadheus, only the high, impenetrable barrier of mountain and a tuft of grass fallen, its brown, withering roots exposed, onto a jagged ledge. She kicked Myshla and rounded the corner.

'Yuri!' she screamed.

Black, all in black, like the avenging spirits of the gods. How she turned Myshla and thrust her back through the others to the ruins she never knew. The arenabekh spilled out behind her, out over the cleared area and scrambling down the escarpment to the ruins below. Curses and shouts of fear came from below, and from above, from a man not twenty feet from her, a yell like the scream of a carnivore after blood. The riderless horses bolted but one of the arenabekh caught them and led them over to Bakhtiian and Tadheus. Tasha's shirt bore a wet stain: blood. A broken arrow lay at his feet, its shaft striped with scarlet. The black riders arrayed themselves over the slopes, utter black against gray and gold and green. Like the obsidian walls, they reflected nothing but darkness. From below came only silence. Except for one body lying prone in a shadow, the khaja soldiers had retreated back into the gorge.

Bakhtiian stood and turned. 'My own demons from the mountains.'

Keregin rode over to Bakhtiian. 'Your sweethearts are no longer so eager.''

Bakhtiian looked down at the mouth of the gorge. A few shadows still overlay it, but light descended steadily, and soon enough it would lie fully lit in the glare of the sun. 'They don't approve of my relations.'

'They'll get over it. Do you want us to entertain them when they return?'' Keregin grinned, peering through halfclosed, heavy-lidded eyes.

'You have no obligation to take on my quarrels.'

'The gods have touched your head, Bakhtiian. You send away your jahar to make the odds interesting, and then, because that isn't enough, you send away the last four, so that you can impress the world by beating off-how many?''

'One hundred and seven.'

'One hundred and seven! Ah, Bakhtiian, you've taken our fighting from us by uniting the jaran. Whom can we hire ourselves to now? Give us this. Don't be greedy.'

'You are only forty riders.'

Keregin laughed. 'Rather unfair odds against those khaja bastards, don't you think? If we'd wanted to live forever, we'd have married and gotten children. No, let us do this. This day's work alone will make your reputation.'

Bakhtiian smiled slightly. 'Make my reputation what?'

'Something for you to live with and live up to. And yet, I still have no good idea of your height.' He grinned, purposely insulting. 'From up here, you still don't seem that impressive.'

'I improve as one gets closer.'

'Oh, I like you, Bakhtiian.' Keregin slapped his thigh. The sound reverberated through the vale, and he chuckled. 'If only I were a younger, handsomer man-but no, you wouldn't make that choice, would you? Ho, there, Sergi!' he yelled down to one of the lead riders. 'What are our sweethearts up to down there?''

'Cowering,' replied the distant man. 'Afraid of love, the fools.'

'Love!' shouted Keregin. 'No. Passion.' His shout echoed back at him.

'Keregin, I've never before let others do my work for me.'

'If you plan to lead the jaran, Bakhtiian, you'd best get used to it. Other men have made you a devil to our friends below. Why shouldn't you leave us to make you an atrocity that will terrify them for generations?'

'Damn you. Leave a few alive to tell the tale.'

The wind was rising. 'We'll tell them you called us up from the very depths of your fire-scorched heart.'

Tadheus had mounted. Bakhtiian paused, as if to say something, but swung up on his horse without a word. He sat there a moment, while he and Keregin simply looked at one another.

Abruptly, Keregin reined his horse downward and yelled at his riders. They all left the upper level, scattering down into the ruins, and those in the forefront started down to the gate that led onto the meadow and from there to the neck of the gorge. A volley of arrows sprayed out from the gorge. Tess caught her breath, but no one fell.

Not yet. The riders shouted insults at each other, arguing among themselves over who would get to lead the charge. Until Keregin, shouting, 'Move aside!' sent his horse down in front, thrusting past the others, through the gate, and plunged down onto the meadow, the rest crowding behind.

Soldiers burst out of the gorge, swords out. Arrows flew.

Two of the riders fell, but four khaja were struck down by the sabers that flashed in the sun. The khaja soldiers retreated in great disorder back into the gorge, and Keregin, to Tess's horror, charged down the neck of the gorge after them, shouting, all in black, like the shadow of death against rock. The rest of the arenabekh followed him, one by one. Shrieks of agony and shrill, exultant cries echoed through the vale.