Ahmed was stunned. “You promised... Lalla...” He had betrayed his family and murdered his father so he could become King and possess Lalla. It had been her idea initially...
“I did promise you the woman, didn’t I? Lock her in with him.”
“My Lord!” Lalla protested. “No! I did everything you told me.”
“Take them,” Nassef said. He turned to a man who had followed him inside. “Get this cleaned up before the Disciple gets here.”
“No!” Ahmed shrieked. He stabbed the nearest Invincible, whirled, slashed at another. His bodyguards jumped in enthusiastically.
Ahmed faked a rush at Nassef. The Scourge of God stumbled, avoiding the expected blow. Ahmed swerved toward the exit. His guards followed. “After them!” Nassef bellowed. “Kill them. Kill them all.” He faced Lalla. “Get her zils. Can’t have her playing tricks on us too.” He smiled cruelly. “Save her for me.”
Haroun paused halfway up the eastern slope of the bowl, looked back. A third of Al Rhemish was aflame. Fighting persisted, but would not last long. On the far slope the mercenary camp was ablaze. Hawkwind had abandoned it to the Invincibles. “I’m sorry,” he told Bragi. “You can catch up with them later, I guess.”
“Yeah. I just wish my brother knew I’m all right.”
Radetic said, “Let’s don’t waste time, Haroun. They’ll be after us soon.”
“Listen!” Bragi said. “Somebody’s coming.”
Hooves pounded toward them. Swords leapt out of scabbards.
“Hold it!” Haroun ordered. “They’re not Invincibles.”
Someone snarled, “It’s Ahmed.” Someone else cried, “Kill him!” Men surrounded the Crown Prince. Curses flew.
“Back off,” Radetic snapped. “You don’t know anything against him. The rumors could have been planted. Bring him here, Haroun. Let him tell his story.” Privately, Radetic believed the worst.
Ahmed scarcely had time to admit his guilt. The party topped the ridge and came face to face with the enemy.
“It’s El Murid!” Haroun cried. “Come on!”
The Disciple’s bodyguards and household far outnumbered them, but the guards were scattered. The main party were dismounted, either seated or sleeping.
“Maybe there is a God after all,” Radetic mused as he spurred his mount. One bloody stroke could turn the war around. Without El Murid there would be no Movement.
With Bragi beside him, Haroun slashed through the Invincible pickets. He chopped down at unprotected noncombatant shoulders and heads. Women screamed. People scattered. Royalist war cries filled the night.
The Invincible bodyguards threw themselves at the Royalists with an insane fury. They valued their prophet more than their lives.
“Where are you, Little Devil?” Haroun shouted. “Come out and die, you coward.”
Ahmed urged his mount up beside Haroun, opposite Bragi. He fought with an abandon no one would have believed possible an hour earlier.
A boy scampered across the rocks ahead of Haroun. He spurred his mount. Another horse hurtled in from one side, turning his attack. For an instant he looked into the eyes of a girl. He saw fire and iron, caught a glimpse of a soul that could be intimidated by nothing. And something more... then she was gone, dragging the boy toward safety. Haroun shifted his attention to a woman chasing the pair.
He was startled. He knew her. She was the Disciple’s wife. Veilless again. He slashed. His blade found flesh. She cried out. Then he was past, wheeling, searching. The Disciple himself had to be somewhere nearby.
Something slammed into him. He felt no pain then, but knew he had been wounded. Bragi hacked at the Invincible responsible while Ahmed engaged another two. A fourth closed in. Haroun forgot the Disciple, fought for his life.
Five minutes passed. They seemed eternal. He heard Megelin shout in a voice filled with pain, rallying the Royalists, ordering a withdrawal. He wanted to overrule Radetic, to stand and fight. This chance dared not be wasted... But he understood why Megelin wanted to go. Outnumbered, the Royalists were now getting the worst of it. Half were down. Most of the rest were wounded.
“Haroun!” Megelin cried. “Come on! It’s over!”
Bragi brushed a sword aside, grabbed Haroun’s reins. Haroun wobbled in his saddle. His wound was deeper than he suspected.
Though gravely injured, Radetic directed the withdrawal. “Capture some horses!” he snapped. “Some camels. Anything. We’ve got wounded with nothing to ride.”
The Invincibles might have taken them then had they not been more interested in the welfare of their prophet and his family.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” Radetic grumbled. “You men. Help those two get onto their animals.”
Haroun looked back once. The battleground was littered with dead and dying. The majority were followers of the Disciple. “Did we get him?” he croaked at Bragi. “Do you think we got him?”
“No,” the northerner said. “We didn’t.”
“Damn! Damn damn damn!”
Bragi snorted wearily. “If he doesn’t have a god on his side, he has a devil. Ride. They’ll be after us as soon as they get themselves sorted out.”
