without Del.'
The Borderer was blank a moment. 'Del?—oh, you mean the Northern bascha I've heard so much about?' Rather abruptly, tension seeped into his body. He glanced around sharply. A subtle signal had his two sword-dancer friends tightening the nooses again. 'Where is she?'
Ordinarily this would be the signal for Del to sing out, offering to show them where she was, to describe what she would do to them, and how she would do it. Ordinarily it would be amusing to witness Rafiq's anxiety.
But this time it wasn't, because she wouldn't be doing any of it, and now was no time for prevarication. 'In the shelter,' I told him. 'I'm not leaving without her.'
Nayyib, still mounted, flicked a glance at me, then away. 'I wanted the healer for her,' he told Rafiq, 'not for him.'
Rafiq looked at me. Then he told his sandtiger-tamers to keep an eye on their charge and strode over to the lean-to.
If going with them got Del to help, it was worth as many leashes as they wished to put on me. It wasn't the best of situations, but some improvement in this one was worth a great deal if it helped Del.
I watched Rafiq duck down inside the shelter. In a moment he came back and glanced at his men. 'Put him on his horse. We're leaving.'
They shut hands on my arms again, started to turn me. 'Wait,' I said sharply. 'We've got to make arrangements for Del. A litter—'
'We're leaving her.'
'You can't do that!'
'I can.' He nodded at his men. 'Do it.'
The gelding had been saddled. They shoved me toward him. I planted my feet, not that it did me much good. My feet weren't cooperating, and neither were Rafiq's friends. Rafiq himself turned away to his own mount, gathering reins.
'Wait,' I said again. 'If you want me to come peaceably—'
Rafiq cut me off. 'I don't care if you come peaceably or not. The woman's too much trouble. She'll be dead by tomorrow.' He swung up onto his palomino. 'Get on your horse, Tiger. If you don't, you can walk all the way to Umir's place at whatever pace our horses set. Of course if you fall, we'll simply drag you.'
Rafiq and I had never been friends. But cordial rivals, yes, in the brotherhood of the trade. Now, clearly, cordiality was banished, and rivalry had been transmuted to something far more deadly.
The two men made it clear I could mount Del's gelding under my own power, or they'd choke me out and sling me over the saddle. There was no way I could win this battle. It was foolish even to try. But this was Del we were discussing.
I was running out of options. Beyond Rafiq, Nayyib sat his horse wearing a curiously blank expression. I shot him a hard stare but couldn't catch his eye. Then I turned, grabbed white mane and stuck a foot in the stirrup, pulled myself up. Kicking the gelding into unexpected motion in a bid to escape would not succeed; Rafiq's leather leashes would jerk me out of the saddle and likely strangle me before I landed.
But leaving Del behind . . . that I couldn't do. I'd made a promise. If I tempted death, so be it. I wouldn't leave her alone if it cost me my life.
Without a word Nayyib abruptly turned his horse toward the shelter and rode away from us. He dismounted, looped his rein loosely around one of the roof branches, glanced back at me over a shoulder. No longer did he avoid my gaze, but seemed to be courting it. His jaw was set like stone.
Rafiq glanced back. 'Aren't you coming? I thought you wanted to see some real sword-dances.'
Nayyib lifted that stubborn jaw. He continued to stare at me. 'I'm staying with the woman.'
I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Maybe he hadn't betrayed us. Or maybe he'd had a change of heart. I wanted no part of leaving, but at least Del would have someone with her.
The two men were mounted, one on each side of the gelding. I felt the pressure of the slip-knots on either side of my neck. A change in pace by any of our mounts, be it a side-step, a spook, a stumble, and I'd be in a world of hurt. The reins were mine to hold, but they did me no good.
Rafiq laughed, calling to Nayyib. 'Well, you can catch up to us tomorrow—after you bury her.'
'I don't think so,' I said lightly. 'In fact, I'm pretty damn certain of it. It'll be you who gets buried, and if I don't do it, she will.'
Rafiq looked at me. He was neither laughing nor smiling now. 'You have no idea what you're going to face. You broke every oath we hold sacred, Tiger. What Alimat was founded on. What do you expect? We were all children there, who were taught to be-
come men. There is a cost for such betrayal, and now you will pay it.'
'In blood, I suppose.'
His eyes were cold as ice. 'One of us will have the honor of cutting you into small pieces. I would like it, Tiger—I would like it very much—if that honor were mine.'
I opened my mouth to answer, but Rafiq's friends suggested I not respond by employing the simple expedient of tightening their leashes. I subsided.
Bascha, I said inwardly, please don't die on me yet. I need you to rescue me.
If she could, she would.
If she couldn't, I wasn't sure I cared if Rafiq—or anyone else– cut me to pieces.
As the horses moved out, as mine was chivvied along, I shut my eyes. Everything in me rebelled.
But then I glanced over my shoulder. Nayyib had turned. Was ducking into the shelter. She wouldn't be alone.
I will try, he had said, to make certain she doesn't die.
'Do better than try,' I muttered.
When Rafiq asked me what I had said, I held my silence. After a moment he shook his head and kicked his horse into a trot. Mine, and theirs, went with him.
About the time I began to doze off in the saddle for the fifth or sixth time, Rafiq woke me with a comment and a question. 'Your horse looks ridiculous. What made you do that to him?'
I sighed, shifted in the saddle, swore inwardly; it is not comfortable riding with your wrists tied in front of you and leashes around your neck. Especially when your body wants to slump forward over the horse's neck, and your neck has nooses around it. 'Bald, blue-headed priest-mages.'
He had dropped back to ride near me. Now he eyed me askance. 'Sticking to that story, are we?'
Well, except for the gelding's adornments, it was the truth.
But I countered with a question of my own. 'What exactly is this contest Umir's holding?'
'He wants to see who's the best sword-dancer.'
'We already did that in Iskandar a couple of years ago.' I recalled it very clearly. Del had killed the Northern borjuni Ajani there, satisfying her vow to avenge the death of her family.
'It didn't end quite the way anyone expected,' Rafiq said.
That was an understatement. All hoolies had broken loose, and Del and I had left town as quickly as possible. 'So Umir's decided to start putting on exhibitions? Isn't that a little odd for him?'
'He wants to find out so he can hire the best.'
'The best for what?'
'Protecting his business interests. Full-time employment with one of the richest men in the South until retirement. Not bad work, if you can get it.'
It was not unusual for a sword-dancer to hire on with one employer for a term of service, but it had always been situational. I'd never heard of a permanent employment. 'And you want it.'
'I want it, and I intend to get it.'
'And these two friends of yours are just along for the ride?'
Rafiq laughed. 'Oh, no. Ozmin and Mahmood will take their chances, too. But they know I'm better than they are.'
'Sometimes,' Ozmin said, from my left.
'Usually I just take pity on you and let you think you're better,' said Mahmood from my right.
I ignored them and addressed my comments to Rafiq. 'What does it have to do with me? I'm not a sword-
