line hurtled onward… and directly in line ahead, with heart-in-mouth, she saw a little knot of riders with Jaryd shielding Sofy's pony with his larger horse. But riders further back in the column were arriving now, pouring in from the left and flying between the trees, blocking the approach toward Sofy's position.
The Banneryd line wheeled right, those riders furthest left making sharp turns across the oncoming line, slashing blows at those who came close enough. Sasha's previous target, riding fast with his arm clutched to his chest, managed to get his signals confused and slammed into a tree with a horrendous crash.
The Banneryd line then raced across the road, ahead of Sofy's position, continuing downhill, their formation now more line-astern than abreast as the left flank fell in behind the right, fighting off pursuers who tried to cut them from behind. A northerner fell, then another cut a Goeren-yai from his horse… Sasha saw she had a line on that one, aiming to a single point ahead of him through the racing trees. He hurtled across the road, her following, and as great as his speed was, Peglyrion on a downhill run, with a weight as little as hers on his back, was quite possibly the fastest horse in Lenayin. She was on him from the left before he even saw her, and she cut him left- handed from the saddle.
She was too fast, in fact, for she overtook another on his left. He saw her, blade in hand, and she knew that was not a fair contest on horseback… whipped a short blade from her belt and threw… thud! It impaled itself in an intervening tree trunk. Which was enough, she decided, and pulled hard on Peg's reins. The other rider thundered onward, the entire Banneryd line racing downhill where the trees became thicker. Sasha circled in a wide turn, heading back upslope… and realised she'd outdistanced nearly everyone. Only now were several pursuit riders thundering by, hot on the Banneryd's tracks, more to harass and make sure they did not come back than to seriously challenge.
Sasha held Peg to a calmer trot back up the slope, plucked her knife from the tree trunk in passing, and spared the fallen northerner a cold glance. He'd tumbled into the base of a tree, head mostly but not entirely severed… a weak, left-handed backhand it had been, glancing off the armoured shoulder. Sasha knew she would never be half the swordsman in a saddle she was on two legs. But then, she fancied her horsemanship against even the dreaded northern cavalry, especially on Peg.
A flash of light upon the needles nearby caught her eye. A Verenthane star, its chain severed, spattered in blood. She recalled the similar star and chain upon the pedestal in the Saint Ambellion Temple. Krystoff's star. And she shivered, making the spirit sign with her sword hand still wrapped around the hilt.
On the road the scene was of semi-organised confusion. Sofy, the Udalyn children, Jaryd and Captain Tyrun marked the head of the column, and what was left of the vanguard formed ahead. Other men collected bodies, tended to wounded and yelled at wandering warriors to get back in formation.
Sasha rode straight to Sofy and Jaryd… Sofy seemed ready to cry with relief. 'You're well?' Sasha asked her in concern.
Soft' nodded, attempting composure. From the look on her face, it seemed likely to be the hardest thing she'd ever done. 'I'm fine,' she said hoarsely, blinking furiously at the tears in her eyes. 'We were well protected.'
'Peglyrion fast!' Daryd remarked, handling his nervous horse steady with skill. He looked shaken, but remarkably calm in spite of it. This was a boy who had seen killing before, Sasha judged. Rysha clung to him tightly, but made no complaint. With her face mostly hidden against her brother's back, it was unlikely she'd seen much.
Sasha faced Jaryd, steadying Peg's head-toss and stamp with a reflexive yank as she wheeled him about. Breathing hard yet barely sweating, Peg seemed content enough to obey. 'Thank you,' she said to him. 'I saw what you did.'
'I did as much as I could with this blasted arm,' Jaryd muttered. He slid his bandaged and splinted left arm back into its sling with a grimace of pain-Sasha guessed he must have taken it out to grab Sofy's reins. Any soldier drilled in cavalry knew that the best chance to survive a downhill rush was to turn into it-the faster the closing speed, the less the attacker's chance of a precise swing. Jaryd had grabbed the reins of Sofy's pony and positioned himself as a shield, unmoving and obvious. Daryd had sensibly placed himself on their far side. Had the Banneryd charge reached him, Jaryd would have been killed… but Sofy and the children, shielded from that first strike, would have quite possibly been saved.
'Sofy could not hope for a better protector.' Sasha touched heels to Peg's flanks and rode to where Tyrun was surveying the scene. She came to Tyrun's side, and the lieutenant he'd been talking with inclined his head in respect. 'The honour of Kessligh Cronenverdt rides with you, M'Lady,' he said, and rode off to survey the carnage upslope before she could reply.
'Your friend Teriyan warned me you'd try something stupid like that,' Tyrun said bluntly.
'Like what?' Sasha snorted. 'I was trained to fight and that's what I did.'
'In this column,' Tyrun replied, utterly unmoved, 'you're far more than just another warrior.'
'Men aren't riding for me,' Sasha retorted. 'They're riding to save the Udalyn.'
'M'Lady, the only reason a good Verenthane like me is riding in this column is because you're leading it.' Sasha frowned at him. 'You're my guarantee that this will not be the first blow in a Goeren-yai-Verenthane civil war. You're a symbol to both, and you've ties and loyalties on both sides. If you die, this could become exactly what Lord Krayliss would have made it-a slaughter of Verenthanes by angry Goeren-yai, with horrors to follow across all the land. Please think of that the next time you feel the need to take some needless risk to add one more notch to your belt.'
He made sense, Sasha noted. The problem, of course, was that her definition of risk was somewhat different to his. Which was arrogance, obviously… but she couldn't help what she was. And she didn't particularly feel like arguing about it now.
'I'll take it under advisement,' she said.
Another man rode down the hill toward them. 'Captain, M'Lady,' said the man as he arrived-a Black Hammers corporal, Sasha saw. 'Twenty-three of us, thirteen dead, ten wounded. Only nine of them, five and four. Several of our scouting parties ahead surprised some and report another twenty enemy dead. Plus they'll be running into hostile villagers as they move along the trails, which will end some more of them, or tie them up. There can't be more than two hundred still harassing us.'
'And all of them fanatics,' Tyrun said grimly. 'They'll grind their horses' legs to bloody stubs before they give us any peace.'
'We could divert men to harass them back?' Sasha suggested.
'M'Lady, I'd advise not,' Tyrun replied, 'ambush tactics in this country only work when your opponent is much less nimble, and when you know where he's going. They have that edge with us, we don't have it with them. We'd arrive at the mouth of the valley in worse shape than if we simply press on and accept the losses.'
Another horse arrived at a gallop, Teriyan's red hair flying out behind as he pulled up sharply. 'That was bloody Tyrblanc in person,' he announced grimly. The blade in his hand was unbloodied. Sasha knew he would be unhappy about that. 'I might have had him if he hadn't come through so damn fast. Damn this terrain.'
Sasha recalled the proud, bearded man with a wide girth who had competed against Tyree that day on the lagand field.
'Some Banneryd men consider ambush tactics dishonourable,' said the corporal. 'I've heard Captain Tyrblanc is one who prefers single combat.'
'That doesn't mean he's not good at ambushes,' Tyrun said grimly. 'And for a Banneryd fanatic, honour only applies to contests between equals. Against pagans, they'd slit our throats in the night if they could.'
Sasha saw a Royal Guardsman riding downhill toward the vanguard leading a riderless horse. The man's face was contorted with grief. The horse, Sasha recognised, was Lieutenant Alyn's. A lump rose in her throat. It had been her decision to press on along this road, regardless of the startlingly obvious ambush-terrain ahead. Her decision, her responsibility. Alyn had been seeking to reclaim his honour, having been cut from the Royal Guard in disgrace. She hoped fervently that his spirit would consider this, a death in a good cause, to suffice.
'We continue as before,' Sasha said quietly. 'We came to save the Udalyn. If we must take losses so that we can serve them best, then so we shall. But if we keep getting hit with this regularity, the Hadryn's defences shall be so well set upon our arrival that we may not make it into the valley at all.'
Captain Tyrun and the Black Hammers corporal departed. 'Where's Andrey?' Sasha asked Teriyan, suddenly anxious.
'We're riding further back,' Teriyan replied. 'It won't do for M'Lady of the Synnich to have her favourite friends all around her-it looks bad to the other men. I came ahead a bit when I saw this damn slope up ahead…
