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Entering was easy. The enemy simply ran away or piled over the stockade. Guildsmen and the Wahlig's warriors followed Bragi's squad.

What now? Where to look? Haroun wanted the Disciple. El Murid's quarters should be near the center of camp. "This way. On the double." Haaken kept the men together while Bragi ran off to the right, skirting the fires. His squad left a trail of enemy injured. Wild-eyed horses proved a greater danger than enemy weapons.

Bragi found an aisle of encampment unthreatened by flames. He turned toward the camp's heart.

Haroun stifled a cry when the Invincibles slammed him to the earth at El Murid's feet. He spat at their chieftain. The man cuffed him.

"The Wahlig's brat, Lord."

"You're sure, Mowaffak?"

"The very one who attacked you in Al Rhemish."

"He was just a boy."

"That was a long time ago, Lord. He's learned more shaghûn tricks, it seems."

Haroun watched the Disciple's face darken. He compared it with the face he recalled. The man had aged beyond his years. He looked old. "You'd damn me when you use a fouler sorcery yourself?"

The Invincible hit him again. Blood filled his mouth. He bit down on the pain, spat scarlet on the man's robe. "Pig eater."

"You delude yourself. I use no sorcery." El Murid puffed up with offended dignity. "I call upon the might of the Lord, as vested in me by his angel."

"Somebody is deluding himself."

El Nadim arrived. "Lord, the camp is total chaos. The fires can't be contained. Guild soldiers are inside the stockade. We'd best get out."

The Disciple's face darkened further. "No."

"Lord!" Mowaffak snapped. "Be reasonable. This scum panicked the men. The enemy are upon us. We can't make a fight of it. It's get out or be destroyed. Now, before the panic infects the Invincibles."

El Nadim agreed. "We can rally the survivors on the road, then return." He exchanged a look with the Invincible.

Haroun caught it. Both knew there would be no second attempt on the fortress. This night would see their strength leeched. "None of you will escape," he gurgled. "You're dead men." Big talk. But maybe they would be destroyed. He heard the fighting now.

Agony lanced across the Disciple's features. Bodyguards rushed to support him. The Invincible captain snarled, "Get him onto a horse. Get everybody you can mounted. Riding double if you have to." He faced Haroun. "What did you do to him?"

Haroun said nothing.

The Invincible hit him. "What did you do?"

Haroun gritted his teeth and willed the pain away.

The blows fell steadily. The Invincible became workmanlike, telling him the pain would stop only when he undid whatever he had done.

The minutes felt like hours. The pain got worse and worse. Only stubbornness kept Haroun from yielding.

An Invincible rushed up. "They're headed this way."

"How close?"

"Right behind me."

The captain dragged Haroun to his feet. "We'll take him along. Is the Lord safe?"

"They're leaving through the back way now, sir. The General and some of his men are with them."

"Help me carry him." Haroun hadn't the strength to support himself. He sagged between the men, his feet trailing in the dirt. He could not see well, now. Everything was out of focus, distorted and fire-tinted.

He was going to die. They would make him break the spell, then they would kill him...

He was not afraid. Despite the pain, he felt only triumph.

"There he is!" Bragi yelled. "The white robes have him. Let's go." He charged, bloody sword overhead.

One of the Invincibles looked back. His eyes widened. He ran. The other turned, assessed the situation, released Haroun and drew a dagger. He grabbed the youth's hair, pulled his head back for a throat slash.

Bragi threw his sword. It smacked the white robe's shoulder, doing no harm, but did foil the murder attempt.

Bragi went for the Invincible's legs. Haaken roared and wound up for a two-handed swordstroke. The white robe flung Haroun into their path. Bragi smashed into the youth. Haaken leapt over. The Invincible tripped him, flung the next Guildsman down atop him, sprinted into the night. Bragi's squadmates charged after him.

Bragi untangled himself. "What a mess. Haaken?"

"Right here."

"Look at this. They really worked him over."

"He asked for it. Better see if I can make a litter."

"Asked for it? You don't have a sympathetic bone in your body."

"Not for fools."

"Not that big a fool. He broke the siege." The fighting in the camp was slackening. The Disciple's men were fleeing. Had the Wahlig been able to mount a controlled pursuit none would have escaped. In the chaos, Hali and el Nadim rallied enough men to shield El Murid's withdrawal.

"That's two I owe you," Haroun croaked. Bragi and Haaken stood over him, flexing muscles tightened from carrying the litter.

"Yeah," Bragi grumbled. "Getting to be a habit."

"Here comes the old guy," Haaken whispered.

Radetic came puffing up, features oddly adance in the firelight. He dropped to his knees beside Haroun.

"Don't let the blood worry you," Bragi said. "They just slapped him around."

Haroun tried to grin. "I almost got him, Megelin. Stuck him with a spell, anyway. He's going to hurt a lot."

Radetic shook his head. Bragi said, "Let's get rolling. Hoist him up, Haaken."

Two riders came up, stared down. "Father," Haroun croaked.

"Haroun." The Wahlig eyed Radetic. "He start this, Megelin?"

"He did."

The Wahlig sucked spittle between his teeth. "I see." He considered Bragi and Haaken. "Aren't these the lads who brought him out of the pass?"

"The same. Making a career, aren't they?"

"So it would aeem. See to Haroun's injuries, then get their stories. And I'll want to talk to you once we're finished down here."

"As you will."

"Fuad. Let's go." The Wahlig and his brother rode on into the confusion.

"Can we go now?" Bragi asked.

"By all means." Megelin eyed Haroun, who could not conceal his trepidation. "It'll be all right, lad. But you did get out of hand. Just as you did at Al Rhemish."

Haroun forced a laugh. "Didn't have a choice."

"That's debatable. Nevertheless, it turned out well. Assuming we save your teeth. I hope you have it out of your system now."

"What?"

"The rebellion. The foolishness. You're young. You have a lot of years left, if you don't squander them. These lads won't always be around."

Haroun closed his eyes, shivered. He had been a fool, throwing himself in like he was one of El Murid's Invincibles, with never a thought to how he would get away. There were a lot of tomorrows, and through thoughtlessness he'd nearly squandered his share. He owed the northerners more than he had realized.

Megelin scowled.

"Well?" the Wahlig demanded.

Radetic looked at Hawkwind. The General's leathery countenance remained blank. His vote was "present," nothing more. Megelin considered Fuad. The Wahlig's brother was abubble with rage. He had an ally there, but he and Fuad made a pathetic marriage of purpose.

Megelin recalled an instructor who had intimidated him terribly in his youth. It had taken him a decade to conquer his unreasoning fright. And only then had he been able to analyze what the man had done. He adopted the fellow's method now.

"For more years than I care to recall I have slaved thanklessly in this armpit of the world." Excessive ferocity and bombast were the keys, accompanied by exaggerated gestures and body movement. These wakened the father-fear in one's listeners. "Time and again have you asked my advice. Time and again have you ignored it. Time and again have I prepared to return home, only to have my will thwarted. I have fought for you. I have suffered for you. I have wasted a career for you. I have endured ceaseless, senseless humiliation at the hands of your family and men. All for the sake of salvaging a rockpile in the middle of nowhere, a rockpile that protects a godforsaken wasteland, inhabited only by barbarians, from the predations of bandits whose mercies the land most assuredly deserves."