From behind me I heard an enormous deep roar, like a giant enraged lion, and the ground-shaking thunder of thousands of horses’ hooves. Subotai’s entire guard was charging out of the woods toward the beasts that threatened their lord.
My senses went into hyperdrive as I charged my poor terrified pony straight toward the claws of the nearest carnosaur. I saw bubbles of saliva between its saber-sharp teeth, saw its slitted reptilian eyes turn away from Subotai toward me, saw the Shaydanian mounted on its back focusing his attention on me also.
The carnosaur swung one mighty clawed hand at me. I slid off my saddle and dropped to the ground, sword firmly in my hand. The carnosaur’s claws lifted my pony entirely off the ground, gouging huge spurting furrows along its flank, and threw it screaming through the air.
I saw all this happen in slow motion, as if watching a dream. Before the dinosaur finished its clawing kill of my pony I ducked low and leaped between its hind legs, ramming my scimitar into its groin with every bit of strength in me.
Then I saw the Shaydanian topple from the screeching carnosaur’s back, an arrow in his chest. Before he hit the ground I glanced over my shoulder to see Subotai already nocking another arrow, reins still in his teeth, lips pulled back in what might have been a grin or a grimace.
The carnosaur started to topple upon me and I had to skip quickly away as it floundered to the ground with a bone-shaking thump. My sword was still buried in its groin, so I dashed to the crushed bloody remains of one of the Mongols and picked up the bow he had dropped in the final instant of his life.
By now the rest of Subotai’s thousand were in arrow’s range and all the carnosaurs were under relentless attack. The Mongols are brave, but not foolhardy. Their first goal was to rescue their leader, Subotai. Once they saw that he was out of trouble they hung back away from the enemy and attacked with arrows.
Quickly, methodically they picked off the Shaydanians mounted atop the dragons. The carnosaurs themselves were another matter. Too big to be more than annoyed by the Mongols’ arrows, they dashed at their tormentors, who galloped off a safe distance before returning to the attack. It was like a bullfight, with the huge monsters being bled until their strength and courage lay pooling on the grass.
As they fired at the milling, screeching carnosaurs I jumped atop one of the riderless horses and followed Subotai as he rejoined his men. He had never let go his grip on his bow, and he was firing at the beasts even as he rode away from them, turning in his saddle to let an arrow fly while his pony galloped toward the rest of the warriors.
The poor outnumbered beasts tried to escape but the Mongols showed no more mercy than fear. They pursued the carnosaurs, pumping more arrows into them until the animals slowed, gasping and hissing, and turned to face their tormentors.
Then came the coup de grace: Mongol lancers charged the weakened, slowed carnosaurs on their sinewy little ponies, a dozen scarred dark-skinned St. Georges spitting a dozen very real hissing, writhing dragons on their spears.
I rode back to retrieve my sword as Subotai trotted back to the carcasses by the knoll and got off his pony to examine the bodies of the slain Shaydanians.
“They do look like the tsan goblins that the men of the high mountains speak of,” he said.
I looked down at the dead body of one of Set’s clones. Its reptile’s eyes were open, staring coldly. Its reddish scales were smeared with blood where three arrows protruded from its flesh. Its clawed hands and feet were stilled forever, yet they still looked dangerous, frightening.
“They are not human,” I said, “but they are mortal. They die just as a man does, and their blood is as red as ours.”
Subotai looked at me; then past me to where his men were laying out the bodies of the slain Mongols side by side.
“Five killed,” he muttered. “How many of these dragons does the enemy possess?”
“Hundreds, at least,” I said, watching the Mongol warriors as they tore branches from the bushes around the knoll and began to build a makeshift funeral pyre.
Thinking of Set’s core tap that gave him the energy to leap backward in time, I added, “He can probably get more to make up his losses in battle.”
Subotai nodded. “And his city is fortified.”
“Yes. The walls are higher than five men standing on each other’s shoulders.”
“This skirmish,” said Subotai, “was merely the enemy commander’s attempt to determine how many men we have, and what kind of fighters we are. When none of his scouts return home, he will know the second, but not the first.”
I bowed my head. He had military wisdom, but he could not realize that Set had witnessed this fight, seeing us through the eyes of his clones.
“You must go back and bring the rest of the army here,” Subotai decided. “And do it quickly, Orion, before the enemy realizes that we are only a thousand men—minus five.”
“I will do it this night, my lord Subotai.”
“Good,” he grunted.
I was about to turn away when he reached up and clasped me on the shoulder. “I saw you charge into that beast when my mount was bucking. You protected me when I was most vulnerable. That took courage, friend Orion.”
“It seemed the wisest thing to do, my lord.”
He smiled. This gray-bearded Mongol general, his hair braided, his face still shining with the sweat of battle, this man who had conquered cities and slain thousands, smiled up at me as a father might.
“Such wisdom—and courage—deserve a reward. What would you have of me, man of the west?”
“You have already rewarded me, my lord.”
His dark eyes widened slightly. “Already? How so?”
“You have called me friend. That is reward enough for me.”
He chuckled softly, nodded, and took me to the tent his men had pitched for him. As the sun went down we shared a meal of dried meat and fermented mare’s milk, then stood side by side as the funeral pyre was lit and the bodies of the slain Mongols properly sent on their way to heaven.
I held my face immobile, knowing that the abode of the gods was nothing more than a beautiful dead city in the far future, a city that the gods had abandoned in fear for their lives. There were no gods to protect or defend us, I knew. We had no one to rely on except ourselves.
“Now,” Subotai said to me as the last embers of the pyre glowed against the night’s darkness, “bring me the rest of my army.”
I bowed and walked off a way from the camp. Moving the entire army and all their families and camp followers would not be easy. Perhaps I could not do it without aid from Anya or the other Creators. But I would try.
I closed my eyes and willed myself back to the bleak city of wooden huts and mud hovels. Nothing happened.
I concentrated harder. Still no result.
Throwing my head back, I stared up at the stars. Sheol glimmered weakly, a poor dulled reflection of its former strength. And I realized that Set had blocked my way through the continuum, just as he blocked Anya when we had first come to this time and place.
He had trapped me here, with Subotai and barely a thousand warriors.
I heard his hissing laughter in my mind. I had led Subotai into a trap. Set intended to keep us here and slaughter us down to the last man.
Chapter 36
I could not face Subotai. He had followed me on faith, believing that I would lead him to a land where he and his people could live in peace once they had conquered the aliens who controlled the area. He had trusted me and called me friend. How could I tell him that I had led him into a deadly trap?
This was my doing, my fault. I could not look upon the battle-hardened face of my Mongol general again until I had corrected the situation. Or died trying.