At the back of the crowd Gretch stood on a crate. He saw the stocky warrior confidently step towards the feeble woman. They were not his concern. Instead he watched the old man who had plagued him. He was whispering intently with his chief.

What are they looking at, if not the fight?

They separated and started moving through the crowd, tapping people's shoulders. The Chief looked frightened.

What are they doing?

He scanned the two figures in the middle of the crowd. The woman looked irrationally confident, even cocky. She also seemed less bent over than the last time he saw her.

Something is not right here. What have I missed?

He stilled his mind and rubbed his tired eyes. He forced himself to scan the scene more carefully.

The tapestry banners. There is something wrong with them...

He caught his breath.

A warding pattern!

His eyes shot to the older woman.

"Who the hell is she?" he frowned to himself.

Gretch decided not to find out. He lept from the crate and raced for the Khashbal corral.

***

Shaleh stood next to Nurlan. Urlock appeared at her shoulder.

"We have to go," he whispered. "Something bad is about to happen."

"I can't," she replied. "I am pledged to another clan now."

In the circle in front of them Tolegan moved forward with confidence. His sword was raised playfully, as if sparring with a child. Chumerra let him come.

"Forget the agreement! Come now!" Urlock hissed in Shaleh's ear.

Tolegan swung the blade gently. Chumerra easily caught the blow on her sword. In one fluid movement she stepped in and flicked her blade across. A gash appeared on his cheek. Blood flowed down his face. He reeled back in surprise clutching his face. There was a collective intake of breath through the crowd.

Urlock grabbed Shaleh and started pulling her back.

"Father," she said. "I can't! You know I can't!"

Urlock cursed under his breath. Nurlan turned to him puzzled.

Urlock jutted a finger at him. "You better take care of her or I will return for your life!"

Nurlan stepped back in surprise. "What's going on?"

There was no reply. Urlock had pushed away from them into the crowd.

Tolegan flushed with embarrassment. Heckling sounded from the crowd questioning his manhood. He wiped the blood on his sleeve and approached the older woman more seriously. She stood poised and still. He feinted right but turned his blade to strike left. She was not fooled and easily stepped out of the way. His blade rang on hers again. She stepped in again while pushing his blade away. Her knee came up and struck between his legs. He doubled over despite his shirt of chains, and scrambled back out of her reach. She reestablished her footing and waited.

Awed silence covered the crowd. A look of doubt crossed Tolegan's face. He circled her more warily. She turned with him. Tolegan sprang at her. His sword whistled as it arched down. She deflected his sword with hers. It slid past her. He was open. Her returning slash raked downwards across his chest and thigh. The chain shirt was gashed open, his thigh a bloody wreck. He went down screaming. She stepped away and took her stance.

"Get up Tolegan," she ordered. "Unless you retract your claim?"

Everyone knew he could not. To even be asked was shameful. Only the lowest of cowards would retract.

"No, Lady. I do not." He pushed himself up unsteadily and took his stance. His face was grim.

She came at him like a whirlwind. He blocked her first blow. He stopped her second, but took a step back. His leg cost him balance. His defenses opened as he tried to stop himself falling. She punched her blade through the gash in his chain shirt. He stood gurgling and clutching his chest for a moment before colapsing. She stood on his blade and with a quick swing removed his head.

The crowd was shocked into silence.

"Are there any more challengers?" She did not need to raise her voice to be heard.

She waited a long time. No one spoke.

"Then I accept the mantle of leadership of the Khashbal Clan. My first order is to bring back the heads of the assassin and her two Empa spies. Khashbal warriors, your chief's death must be avenged! Nurlan," she pointed at him, "will lead the hunt, and his betrothed shall prove her loyalty by helping him."

Nurlan bowed his head and pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the corral. He had to pull Shaleh along with him.

"I can not kill my friends," she whimpered.

"Then she will kill you and blame your whole clan for the murder. It's the lives of three, or the lives of your entire clan. Which do you choose?"

***

Gretch thundered towards the two warriors guarding the Khashbal corral. They got their swords out of their sheaths but were dead before they could swing them. He tied three horses together and led them out.

It will have to be bareback.

He scanned the grass. The Empa Chief had spoken the truth; three sets of hoof prints had been made in the night.

Between his greatsword and powerful kicks it took only moments to destroy enough of the corral for the other horses to escape.

Gretch the Hunter kicked his horse into action and followed the hoof prints north.

***

Chumerra stood still with a look of severe disapproval on her face. The corral was broken in three places. Some of the Khashbal horses had remained inside it out of habit, but hundreds were scattered over the plain in front of them. The two corral guards were dead.

"The white haired woman and the two Empa spies did this," she proclaimed. "We gave them freedom and they repaid it in cruelty and murder."

Shaleh clenched her jaw and whispered to Nurlan. "This could not have been Alam and Tajar."

"But it could have been the woman. She is capable of anything."

Chumerra turned to face the crowd gathered around. "We will have vengeance on the criminals, but first we must gather our horses. Today they have escaped, but let none of us forget this betrayal."

***

Alam, Tajar, and Frost rode hard. Around dawn they met the Laroleh river. They set it on their right and galloped north. During the ride Frost told them every detail of the killing of Kirill: that she did it to revenge Prall's death, and how his wife, Chummera, had aided her and could wield magic.

Once she was done they all sunk into silence. The day was as grey as Alam's mood.

The hellcat bit down. Bones cracked. Prall's sword fell. His torso fell from the beast's mouth.

It's my fault.

I said to cross the opening.

If we hadn't Frost wouldn't have fallen in the pit, and Prall...

The hellcat bit down. Bones cracked.

Alam could not stop the tears. He gently pulled on Mist's reins. Once he was behind the others he wiped his eyes.

I'm sorry Prall.

He bent his head and tried to hide the grief and guilt that washed over him.

At noon Tajar held up his hand to stop. At least Alam guessed it was noon. It was hard to tell through the thick layer of clouds. The wind bent the long grass, and set it hissing. The horses were breathing hard and their coats were dappled with white patches of sweat.

"Did anyone bring food?" Tajar asked.

"Just a bit of bread," Alam said as he handed out the few pieces of flatbread he had gathered from the previous night's feast.

"There are more important things to worry about," said Frost. "Like surviving the day."

"Food seems a pretty important thing to me!" snapped Tajar.

"Of course it is, but what Frost is trying to say is that we have to focus on the more immediate danger of Khashbal's warriors catching us."

"So you're taking her side now?" spat Tajar.

"No," said Alam. "I'm taking our side. Frost accompanies us to Lasthome because we promised her she could. After that we part."

"Good," he scowled. "The bank here is a good place for the horses to drink. They need to rest."

"For how long?" asked Frost.

"Until they're rested!" Tajar snapped at her. "If we keep riding like this they'll die under us and then we'll definitely get caught!"

"You don't have to shout at me!" Frost flared up. "Yesterday we were friends, now all you do is shout at me!"

"That's because yesterday you abandoned us!" Tajar shouted. "You ran off to save yourself and left us to die! Friends don't do that!"

"I panicked! Prall died and I panicked! I'm sorry, I really am. If it makes you feel any better I also feel ashamed of myself. While you were shooting arrow after arrow at that thing like some kind of demi-god I just froze up." Frost clenched her jaw and struggled to put her impassive face back on. "It won't happen again."

She turned away from Alam and Tajar, and sat down by the river bank. Alam scowled at Tajar and backhanded his shoulder roughly.

The rest of the afternoon they walked the horses. Tajar walked ahead of Alam and Frost who walked side by side in silence. All three of them kept peering over their shoulders but there were no signs of pursuit. At one point Tajar rode off their path to reach a hillock for a better view. He was away for a few minutes.

"Well?" Alam asked.

"Nothing. If Khashbal warriors were gaining on us I would expect to see signs. Admittedly, the weather isn't helping. The clouds make it hard to see any dust, and the wind would blow it away anyway."

"That's good news," said Alam. "Maybe they'll just let us go free."

Frost shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Neither do I," said Tajar. He then turned to Frost. "Sorry I shouted at you. I was angry and sad and worried about being caught. I don't really know how to control my emotions I guess. And I am glad that Kirill's dead, though I'm not sure how I feel about him being killed in his bed. Anyway, I was an idiot, and I was mean. Please forgive me."

"I will if you will," she replied.

He nodded and smiled faintly.

---------------------

Thank you for your support. I invite you to consider commenting and voting.

-Y. V. Qualls