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.”Lyrralt watched him, suddenly reminded of Jyrbian wearing a soldier’s dress uniform, proclaiming that someday there would again be a need for fighters.Butyr argued against splitting the group.“We’ve defeated the best the court could send against us.We have nothing to fear at the moment.”They mounted at Igraine’s urging, moving on without solving the disagreement.For the next week, while passing through the southernmost part of the Khalkist Mountains north of Takar, Jyrbian and Butyr continued to argue.Split up or separate.Head north or west.Attempt to settle in Thorad, or build a new home of their own.Igraine, who could have settled all arguments, listened and made no judgment.They began to climb into the main body of the mountains.The trails, which had been wide and well traveled, became narrow, rutted for miles on end, then overgrown with roots.The dense undergrowth disappeared, the oaks became conifers, and the land rocky.The nights grew cold.Game, which had been plentiful and had made their nighttime fires smell of rich stew, became sparse.There was no more arguing.They turned west, working their way toward more hospitable terrain.Khallayne rode with Lyrralt or Jyrbian as much as she could.Neither were ideal traveling companions.Jyrbian spent his evenings in debate with Butyr or silently sitting at Igraine’s campfire, as near Everlyn as he could get.Lyrralt was withdrawn, uncommunicative, spending his evenings in communion with his god.“I feel as if we’re floundering,”‘ he said.“Adrift.”“Childish prattle,” Jyrbian responded.But Khallayne knew it was more than that.Just as she knew her own power, she sensed Lyrralt’s.“Doom,” she pressed him, “Why do you say that?”“Because Hiddukel has told it to me,” was all he would say.Khallayne opened her mouth to ask another question when the horse in front of her reared.Its rider fell backward, an arrow protruding from her chest!A child screamed.Pandemonium erupted around them.Arrows flew, as thick as bees.Horses stampeded.Tenaj, who had fallen when the horse ahead of them reared, cried out as the panicked horses almost crushed her.Jyrbian materialized and, catching a fistful of her tunic, dragged her off the path, away from the skittish horses.An arrow whizzed overhead, and he let her drop to the ground.“Get down!” he shouted, kicking his horse in the flank.“Everybody, keep low!”Khallayne yanked her horse in a circle, trying to see who was attacking, and from where.The arrows seemed to be coming from all directions.The “who” was answered immediately.The man behind her slumped.The Ogre arrow in his forehead sported the brilliant colors of Clan Redienhs.She ducked lower, clutching her horse’s neck.The animal’s muscles were trembling under its silky coat.She wanted to scramble into the thick undergrowth that lined the trail, but dared not.Dared not even dismount.Khallayne could hear Jyrbian’s voice, farther away now, shouting orders.She moved toward the sound.To her right she could hear the sing of steel against steel, the shouts of battle, and she knew her people had left the trail, had plunged into the forest to meet their attackers.Ahead of her on the trail, Jyrbian was in the thickest of the fighting, a dark god of war, terrible and beautiful.With arrows flying through the air around him, he stood in his stirrups.He managed to keep his horse under control with one hand while he signaled with the other, directing archers to cover on the left side of the path, those with swords to dismount and flank the enemy on the right.Seeing him so much in control, so dauntless, Khallayne lost her fear.She rode into the thick of the fighting.The scent of blood rushed at her, filling her with pure euphoria.The thrill of being able to use magic without restraint wiped out all the sights and sounds.The power leapt up in her, so voraciously that she didn’t even need to use her hands to direct it.Her mind sent it outward, unfocused.The enemy guardsman who had been nearest Jyrbian had been lifting his bow.He dropped where he stood, his heart burst in his chest
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