Again Esk kar’s sword stabbed into the rear quarters of a horse that turned in pain and bucked its rider off, hindquarters lashing out and nearly catching Esk kar in the face. An arrow hissed by and struck down another red — marked warrior as Esk kar raised his sword to slash at the legs of the last rider.
The Alur Meriki saw the danger, turned and swung his sword at Eskkar. He tried to parry the heavy blow, but his sword arm trembled with exhaustion. The impact pushed Esk kar’s blade back and nearly tore the weapon from his grasp. The force of the blow knocked Esk kar to his knees, and he struggled to meet the warrior’s killing stroke.
But the final stroke never came. The last of the yellow warriors struck the horse a savage blow on the fetlock, crippling the animal and sending it into a frenzy, before it sank to its knees in pain and terror.
The Alur Meriki rider, fi ghting to keep his seat, raised his sword toward Esk kar, then turned his eyes toward the last of the yellow warriors. His instant of indecision cost him not only his life, but also any chance to strike a blow.
Esk kar, still on his knees, thrust out with his sword at his assailant now just within reach, lunging forward with his whole body, determined to strike one more blow, to thrust his blade into his enemy’s body even if he took a death blow in return. The blades of Esk kar and the yellow — clad warrior struck at the last Alur Meriki warrior from either side, and the man grunted in agony before he died, with Esk kar’s sword low in his stomach and the barbarian’s blade thrust under his armpit.
The struggling horse fell on its side, tearing the sword from Esk kar’s grasp. He struggled to get back on his knees and finally managed it. Eskkar reached out and tried to pull his sword free but couldn’t, the fatigued muscles in his trembling arm refusing to obey, and he found himself unable to get to his feet.
Letting go of the hilt in disgust, Esk kar fumbled for his knife, but there was no need. Looking around, he saw the fight was over. No warrior wearing red survived. Only the men from Orak and the yellow barbarians remained alive, and they immediately began eying each other.
Esk kar forced himself to his feet, knowing the moment of danger had come. He struggled to catch his breath, and his legs shook with exertion and excitement. He raised his voice and shouted to his men to dismount and put away their weapons.
The warrior who had shared the final kill with Esk kar turned to help pull his fallen chief to his feet. The younger man, holding the bloody sword he’d pulled from the dead Alur Meriki, looked suspiciously at Eskkar. His chief called to his men who moved quickly toward him, lowering their weapons as they came. Apparently the chief shared Esk kar’s concern about more fi ghting. The younger warrior repeated the chief ’s words in a louder voice, and this time they made some sense to Esk kar, who hadn’t heard his native tongue spoken for some time.
At least they weren’t going to start killing each other, if Esk kar understood the chief ’s words. As Esk kar’s men gathered around him, swords still in their hands, but pointing at the ground, Mitrac joined the group, his face flushed with excitement.
Esk kar wanted to get his men aside, to make sure nothing unexpected happened. He tried to speak, but couldn’t get the words out. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Get the horses… stand over there…”
He stopped as Maldar stepped up to him and took Esk kar’s left arm and placed it over his shoulder. Sisuthros moved to his other side and grasped him around the waist.
“You’re wounded,” Sisuthros said, looking down at Esk kar’s right arm covered in blood.
“Aye, and you can’t stand for shaking,” Maldar added. “We need to bandage that arm, before you bleed to death, and take a look at that leg.”
The two half — carried him to a spot near the canyon wall where the carnage had left some empty space, then set him down. No wonder his right arm had betrayed him, Esk kar realized, as he glanced down at the blood that ran from shoulder to wrist. It must have happened when he turned the lance thrust. The weapon’s tip had sliced open half the length of his arm.
Esk kar felt his left leg trembling uncontrollably and saw a huge bruise already arisen in the center of his thigh. Getting knocked off his horse must have done that. Suddenly waves of pain shot through his leg, making him gasp. His eyes didn’t want to focus.
He cursed as he realized that if his thigh bone had snapped, he was as good as dead, unable to ride and so far from Orak. His men propped him against an outcropping of rock, and Maldar ripped a garment off one of the dead and tore it into strips. Sisuthros held a water skin to Esk kar’s lips until he could swallow no more, then poured more over the cut in his arm to rinse most of the blood off and clean the wound before Maldar quickly and efficiently bound it up.
“How many dead?” Esk kar sat there stoically as they worked on him.
Sisuthros and Maldar looked at each other, everyone mentally counting.
“Four are missing.” Sisuthros’s grim voice removed the smiles of victory from their faces.
“And the horses?” Esk kar had to force the words out. “What of the boys?”
Sisuthros turned and ordered one man to go back to the canyon entrance and bring back the boys and horses.
“One boy is dead.” Mitrac squatted on the ground near Esk kar’s feet.
“I saw him fall.”
“They were told to stay back,” Esk kar said angrily. A village boy wouldn’t have lasted a moment in that fight. “And the other?”
“I’m not sure,” Mitrac answered. “They both joined the fight, but I didn’t see him fall. He’s probably dead, too.”
“I owe you my life, Mitrac, at least twice that I remember.” He turned to Maldar sitting on the ground a few steps away. “And to you, too, Maldar.”
Esk kar turned back to Mitrac and saw his quiver of arrows held only two shafts. “Better go and collect your arrows, before the strangers use them for firewood.” He looked to Sisuthros, who seemed to have no major wounds. A wave of dizziness swept over Esk kar, and he had to fight to keep his thoughts from wandering. His leg began to tremble again and he gripped his knee to stop it.
“Look after the men’s wounds. And see to the horses.” They went off to do his bidding, and Esk kar leaned back against the rock as another wave of dizziness blurred his vision. He closed his eyes for a moment.
It must have been a long moment, for he suddenly sat upright, looking around in confusion. Ishtar’s blood, he must have fallen asleep. A leader should never show such weakness in front of his men. Esk kar tried to get up, but Maldar pushed him back down and held on to his good arm.
“Rest easy, Captain. You passed out for a while. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Esk kar recognized honest affection in his voice.
“And we got some good news as well, Captain. Zantar’s alive. They found him under a pile of bodies, knocked senseless. The barbarians were stripping his body when he awoke. Scared the piss out of him, they did.”
Maldar laughed at the thought. “And one boy is still alive, that rat of a pickpocket,” he added, referring to the petty thief who’d begged and pleaded his way on the mission. “His arm’s smashed up pretty bad, but he may live. He won’t cut any more purses, though.”
Esk kar tried to think. They’d lost only three men if Zantar survived two veterans and one of the newer recruits. Not a bad trade, to finish off a war party of this size. He wondered what the other tribe’s losses had been.
Glancing around, they looked to have scarcely more men standing than those surrounding Esk kar.
Sisuthros returned, slumping on the ground next to Esk kar. “Four dead, counting the boy, and we lost three horses, not counting yours, which one of the barbarians seems intent on keeping for himself. The rest of us are in pretty fair shape, only minor cuts and bruises. We should go back to the stream and get cleaned up. Or at least send for more water.”
No one knew why wounds washed with clean water healed faster than unwashed ones. “Yes. If they can ride, send them back to the stream. Bring water back for the others.”
“I’ll take care of it, Sisuthros.” Maldar pushed himself to his feet. “You stay and keep an eye on these barbarians.” In a few moments Maldar had collected all the intact water bags he could find, and he and two others rode off.
Sisuthros leaned close to his captain and kept his voice low. “I told the men to keep their weapons close, in case they try anything.”
“Just make sure we don’t start any trouble.” Esk kar wanted their help, not another fight.
