"The choice is no longer ours," said Atreus. "Take the two with the lances."
No sooner had Atreus spoken than a silver blade hissed past his head, flashing toward Naraka's. The lancer on the end cried out and tried to duck away, but the knife caught him at the base of the skull. He went limp instantly and splashed into the water.
As the other lancer raised his weapon Rishi suddenly cursed and cried out in pain. Atreus glanced back to see the Mar leaning down, groaning and tugging at a lance lodged in the calf of his leg. The rider who had thrown it was moving up from behind with his three companions, their ponies half swimming in the deep water.
A grunt sounded from Naraka's group, and Atreus looked forward to see the second lancer hurling a wooden shaft in Rishi's direction. He flicked his sword up, hitting the weapon in mid flight and sending it arcing out into the river. Oblivious, Rishi was still tugging at the lance lodged in his calf.
"Leave that for later!" Atreus yelled.
"Later?" Rishi gasped. "It is stuck through my leg!"
"Forget it," Atreus said as he urged his yak forward. "Stop the men behind us. I'll clear the way."
He angled toward the river as if he were trying to squeeze past his foes. Naraka moved to cut him off, guiding his mount into water so deep that it began to lap at his saddle. On the patrol leader's arm was a red stain where Rishi's knife had found its mark earlier, and he held his elbow close to his ribs. His eyes were filled with doubt, and his face was pale with the fear any man would feel when riding out to battle a devil, but his gaze never faltered.
The other two riders swung around toward Atreus's flank, their legs splashing as they frantically kicked at their mounts. The ponies snorted and whinnied, but they were moving as fast as they could in the deep water. The whole battle seemed to be taking shape in slow motion.
There was a startled cry behind Atreus, then a splash. Three more splashes quickly followed. He looked back to see a wounded rider flailing about in the water, clasping at the shiny hilt protruding from just under his collarbone. One of his fellows was beside him, trying to keep the wounded man's head above the surface. The other two were swimming alongside their ponies, ready to dive the instant Rishi raised another throwing dagger.
Curious voices began to roll across the water from the slave boats, and the rattle of chains grew louder and more agitated. The first two dugouts had already passed well downstream, and three more were floating around the bend. The passengers-captives and guards alike-were staring at the shore in bewilderment.
The sound of rippling water drew Atreus's gaze back to his foes. Naraka and his men were only two paces away now, almost within reach of a wild thrust.
"I am sorry for what has passed between us," Atreus said, "and for what is about to."
He raised his sword and kissed the blade, then drew the locks of hair he had collected from his belt and cast them into the river. The eyes of the Mar widened. Then his soldiers hurled themselves into the battle with wild abandon. Naraka came in from the front, standing in his stirrups to lean between the yak's horns and thrust at Atreus's ribs.
Atreus twisted away, at the same time leaning back to escape the second rider's wild head slash. When the third attacker came in with a low thrust, he blocked with his weapon's cutting edge, then circled over the top and brought the blade down on his foe's wrist. The hand came free with a sickening pop and sank into the river still holding its sword.
As the man screamed, Atreus twisted back toward Naraka and slashed at the second rider's mid-section. The man managed an awkward inverted block that left his head utterly exposed, and Atreus switched attacks smoothly, smashing his sword pommel into the fellow's face. The rider's nose shattered, and he tumbled out of his saddle.
Naraka's sword caught Atreus in the flank, passing entirely through that little roll of flesh just above the belt. Atreus yelled and lashed out with his sore arm, grabbing the patrol leader by the wrist and jerking him forward onto the yak's head.
Naraka's other hand arced around, a shiny dagger flashing in his grasp. Atreus released his foe and jerked back and the blade came down on the fleshy hump between the yak's shoulders. The beast bellowed and whipped its head sideways, flinging the patrol leader into the willows.
Naraka's sword tore free with a ghastly slurping sound, as Atreus's waist erupted into molten anguish. He heard himself scream in pain, then felt himself touching a huge flap of skin without quite realizing that he had reached down to probe the sticky mess above his belt.
A roar went up from the slave boats, which had come closer to watch the battle. The guards were facing him as they drifted past, grinning and shaking their fists in approval. The slaves were staring in wide-eyed horror.
"Help!"
The cry came from Rishi and was followed by an unintelligible scream.
Atreus spun around to find three riders swimming up behind them. One grabbed the lance in Rishi's leg and was trying to drag the Mar off his yak. The other two were circling out to approach from the sides. All three had blue lips and chattering teeth, and they were shaking so hard they could barely hold their weapons.
Atreus grabbed Rishi's yak by the horn and pulled the beast alongside his, dragging along the man holding the lance. The Mar screamed and flung himself flat on the beast's back, his fingers digging deep into its shaggy fur.
"Lift your leg!" Atreus ordered.
"Lift it?" There were tears streaming from Rishi's eyes as he said, "It is not possible. They have me by… lance…"
"Lift it!" Atreus shouted, then raised his sword and leaned around behind his guide. "Lift it or lose it."
Rishi buried his face in his mount's fur and tried to obey. The lance came out of the water just enough to see, and Atreus brought his sword down. The blow severed the shaft a foot behind the Mar's calf, leaving the man at the other end to fall back into the water.
The other two riders continued forward, wading through water up to their chests. Rishi kept his face buried and screamed as though Atreus had struck his leg instead of the lance. Naraka began to work his way back through the willows, barking orders and pulling along the rider with the smashed nose. Atreus grabbed the lead of Rishi's yak and turned away from shore.
"You cannot do this!" Rishi yelled. The water was already lapping at his thighs. "The river-men will kill us."
"So will Naraka," Atreus said, nodding back toward the willows where the patrol's survivors were gathering their ponies. "And if they don't, the cold will. We can't let these boats past."
Rishi raised his voice to protest but lost his breath to the cold when the yaks stepped into deep water and began to swim. Atreus's muscles stiffened, and the strength began to seep from his body. He glanced back and saw Naraka leading four riders into the river. The one who had lost his hand to Atreus was in no condition to fight, but the fellow with the smashed nose had found the strength to continue, and of course Naraka would not stop until he was dead.
The guards on the slave boats began to call back and forth, and the dugouts started to angle toward Atreus and Rishi.
"You see? Does that look like they mean to kill us?"
When Rishi did not make the expected disparaging reply, Atreus glanced back and saw the Mar's poor yak swimming along with little more than its nose above water. Even that slipped beneath the surface sporadically, only to pop back up spewing water and mucus.
"Rishi, what's wrong with you?"
"Me? It is my yak that is too dumb to swim."
"It's not dumb, it's drowning!" Atreus said. Behind Rishi, Naraka and his men were swimming along beside their ponies, holding their saddle horns and coming up fast. "Cut the gold free!"
Rishi looked as though Atreus had uttered a sacrilege. "You would sacrifice all this gold to spare a yak?"