But the sound of pursuit was almost upon them, and she touched the spurs to Siptah and led them forward, circling within the fringe of trees, riding the bow of the clearing.
She meant a run with the White Hill between her and Nehmin, Vanye realized; it was what he would have done, running at the horde on the flat from an angle such that they had cover for at least a portion of their ride.
"They are on us!" Kessun cried; they looked back and the foremost of their pursuers had broken through, riders stringing out in wild disorder, cutting across the open to head them off while they still rode the arc.
But at the same moment Morgaine veered out into the open, and meant to lead them from under the face of that charge, riding for the White Hill.
"Go!" she shouted. "Lellin, Sezar, Merir, ride while you can. We will shake these from our heels and overtake you. The rest of you, stay by me."
Well-done,Vanye thought; the unarmed five of their party had cover enough in which to gain ground; the nine armed had cover in which to deal with these rash pursuers. He disdained the bow: he had no skill at firing from horseback. He was Nhi when he fought, and whipped out the Shiua longsword, at Morgaine's left. Perrin and Vis, Roh, Sharrn, Dev, Larrel and Kessun: their arrows flew and riders went down; and Morgaine's lesser weapon laced red fire across the front of the charge which met them. Horses and riders went down, screaming, and even so a handful broke through, demon-helms, their barbed lances lowered, with a straggling horde of marshlands foot panting behind.
The charge reached them: Vanye fell to the side Nhi-style, simply not there when the lance passed, and the good horse held steady as he came thrusting up again, blade aimed for that rider. The khalsaw it coming, horrified, for the lance point was beyond and his sword inside the defense. Then his point drove into the undefended throat and the khalpitched over his horse's rump, carried on the force of it.
"Hail"he heard at his side, and there was Roh, longsword flashing through khalurdefense-no plains-fighter, the Chya lord, but there was an empty saddle where there had been a khalabout to skewer him.
Others came on them; one rider pitched from the saddle short of them, a red streak of fire for his undoing. Vanye trusted to Morgaine's aim and took the gift, aiming for the rider hard behind, whose half-helmed face registered horror to find an enemy on him before he expected and his own guard breached. Vanye cut him down and found himself and Roh enmeshed in marshlands rabble. That dissolved in terror at what fire Morgaine sent across their mass, cutting down men indiscriminately, so that dying fell on dead. Grass was burning. The trampling of feet put it out as the horde turned in panic. Arrhendurarrows and Morgaine's bolts pursued them without mercy, cutting down the hindmost in windrows of dead and dying.
Vanye wheeled to turn back, chanced to look on Roh's face, which was pale and grim and satisfied. And he turned farther and saw Larrel on the ground with Kessun bending over him. From the amount of blood that covered him and Kessun there was no hope he could live; a khalurlance had taken the young qhalin the belly.
Even as he watched, Kessun sprang up with bow in hand and sent three shafts in succession after the retreating Shiua. Whether they hit he did not see; the khemeis'face ran with tears.
"Horses!" Morgaine shouted. "Khemeis-get to horse! Your lord needs you!"
Kessun hesitated, his young face twisted with grief and indecision. Then Sharrn ordered him the same, and he sprang to the saddle, leaving his arrhenamong the Shiua dead. The shock had not yet hit Kessun. Vanye hurt for him, and remembered at the same time that they had two horseless members of their company… one, now: Perrin had caught Larrel's.
And Roh came up leading one of the Shiua mounts, even as they started to move. They struck a gallop and held it, and Kessun rode ever and again looking back.
The White Hill lay before them, and their party neared it Morgaine gave Siptah his head and the gray stretched out and ran with a speed which none of the arrhendimhorses could match. Vanye dropped back in despair, but he looked on that craggy hill which rose so strangely out of the flat and of a sudden chill hit him as he considered how it seemed to stand sentinel to this approach.
Morgaine wanted the others stopped short of arrowflight of that hill; Merir's group was nearly there, moving at the best speed they could make with two horses carrying double, but she and the gray horse closed on them rapidly, the while they behind labored to stay with her. And she had their attention; the five waited at the last, seeing her desperate to overtake them, and in moments they all closed ranks, out of breath.
"Larrel," Merir mourned, seeing who it was who had fallen. Vanye recalled what Merir had said of a qhaldying young, and grieved for that; but he grieved more for the stricken khemeiswho sat his horse with his hands braced on the saddle and his head bowed in tears.
"Mount up," Morgaine bade the arrhashortly; the young women scrambled uncertainly to the ground and Sezar helped them to the horses they were offered. Their handling of the reins was that of folk utterly unused to horses.
"The horses will stay with the group," Roh told them. "Keep the reins in your hands and do not pull back on them. Hold to the saddle if you think you will fall."
The arrhawere frankly terrified. They nodded understanding, and held on at once when they started to move, the horses hardly more than loping. Vanye looked on the women and cursed, showed them how to turn and how to stop, thinking with horror of what must befall the helpless creatures when they rode full tilt into the Shiua horde. It was all there was time to give them. He shook his head at Roh, and received back a grim look.
"Larrel was only the first," Roh said; and that took no prophecy, for the arrhendimwere not armed or armored for hand-to-hand. Only he, Roh, Morgaine could fight that sort of battle. Vanye rode closer to Morgaine, taking his place by habit as much as clear thought; and it was impossible now to avoid the sight that faced them. Gray indistinct lines stretched across their whole horizon, the great rock of Nehmin behind. Their coming was not yet remarked or not yet known for attack: they might as well have been Shiua riders for all the main forces knew. The skirmish had not been seen because of the hill… and the approach of thirteen riders to that countless host could hardly seem threatening.
"Look!" cried one of the arrha,gazing back, for there was a signal fire lit on the White Hill, a plume of smoke trailing out on the wind.
And that was enough.
The sound that went up from the Shiua horde was like that of the waves of the sea, and their number-the number was unimaginable even to a man who had seen forces in the field and knew how to estimate them: all that the camp on Azeroth had spilled forth, the refuse and scourings of a drowning world. Khalurriders poured out toward them, a troop of demon-helms, a cold sheen of metal and a forest of lances in the fading daylight
Then Vanye doubted their faintest hope of survival, for even if the marshlanders would flee and confound themselves by their own numbers, the Shiua riders would not: the khalknew what they attacked, had made up their minds, and came at Morgaine for hate. A hundred riders, two hundred, three hundred deep and twice that wide; a shout went up, drowned in the thunder of hooves.
And of a sudden Merir drew even with them in the lead, the white mare easily matching strides with Siptah and the bay. "Fall behind," the old lord urged them. "Fall back. Here the arrhaand I am worth something, if anywhere."
Morgaine began to do so, falling back more and more, though Vanye shuddered at the sight of the old lord out to the fore of them, and the frail white-robed arrhajoining him in the face of those lances. Merir and his companions spread wide, and the horses shied with the arrhaas Gate-force suddenly shimmered about them; one lost her seat and fell, a stunning blow; but the one on the horse which had been Larrel's rode still with Merir.
The downed arrhascrambled for her feet, scraped and shaken, childlike in her size and her helplessness. Vanye rode down on her and in a desperate maneuver leaned from the saddle and seized the back of the clothing as they seized the prize in riders' games in Kursh .. . dragged the bemused girl belly-down across his saddle and kept going. Morgaine cursed him bitterly for his madness, and he flung her back a look of anguish.