The other two soldiers turned their horses and raced away.
"Stand and fight! Iraj cried after them. Stand and fight!"
But his shouts only seemed to add to their panic.
"Ambush! Safar heard them scream. Ambush!"
The soldiers piled into the main caravan, knocking over men and animals alike. Then the air was shattered by the shrieks of what Safar realized had to be women. Their screams mingled with the bawling of beasts and the desperate cries of men fleeing death.
Safar and Iraj ran into the center of the chaos. Pack animals charged about dragging their drivers and strewing their loads into the snow. Camels careened into wagons, tumbling them over. Oxen tangled their traces. A half dozen soldiers milled around, striking hysterically at anything that came near, as if llamas and camels were the enemy.
A huge manthe caravan masterthundered up on his horse, waving his sword and shouting orders. Then, from behind, Safar heard the demons howl closer and then the distinct meaty thunk of steel cutting into flesh. Followed by the screams of wounded men.
It was his first battle and an odd calm descended on him. Everything seemed to move slowly and yet quickly at the same time.
He saw gore stain the snow.
He smelled fear's foul musk mixed with the powerful odor of demons gone berserk.
He heard men choke and die.
Then a demon loomed over him, rising high in the saddle to strike with his sword. The image seemed more dream than real and Safar became intensely curious, noting the pale green of the demon's skin, the studs on his leather armor, the short snout and sharp fangs and the small, pointed ears. As Safar studied him Gubadan's training took hold. His mind became clear, his breathing slow.
He slipped to the side as the sword sliced down. He heard the demon grunt in surprise as he missed.
Safar jabbed at him with his staff, but the demon's blade swept in and back and Safar found himself holding nothing but a mass of splinters. He gaped at his now useless weapon, dumbfounded. The only reason he didn't die then was that the demon kicked his mount forward to meet a charging caravan guard. He cut the man down, whirled to find another and plunged out of Safar's view.
Safar heard shrill human cries and turned to see two demons attacking an ox-drawn wagon. They reared their mounts and the beasts claws ripped away the canvas, revealing a writhing tangle of frightened women. They screamed and tried to fend the demons off.
One creature grabbed a girl by the hair and charged away, howling gleefully as he dragged her through the snow by long black tresses. Frozen rocks shredded her garments and for the first time Safar saw the naked limbs of a young woman who was not of his village. She cried out as a rock tore her leg and Safar found himself running forward to face the demon with nothing more than a shattered wooden staff.
Safar was not a killer by nature. He was raised to believe all life was precious, including that of the animals killed for the table. But at that moment he was stricken with a murderous furytriggered as much by the young woman's humiliation as the threat to her life.
As he charged forward words came to himthe words of a spell. And he chanted:
I am strong. You are weak. Hate is my spear. May it pierce Your coward's heart.
In his mind the ruined staff became that spear. It was perfectly formedheavy, but balancing easily in his hand. He reached back, then hurled the staff with all his strength. Before his eyes he saw the splintered wood reform itself in mid-flight.
And he had caused it to happen. Somehow he caused the splintered wood to become hard black metal. He caused the tip to broaden and become killing sharp. He caused the weapon he'd made to fly straight and true. And he caused the spear to pierce the leather armor and thick demon skin and then burst that demon's heart.
The demon fell, releasing the girl. His mount veered wide but the force of the charge carried her body forward and she slammed into Safar. His breath whooshed out. As the two tumbled into the snow together the girl flung her arms around him, fastening him in a grip made strong by fear.
Safar's breath returned and he tore away from her grasp and leaped up. The scene was madness. Demons were hewing left and right, killing men and animals without discrimination. But in that madness Safar saw the caravan master had managed to rally a small group that was beginning to fight back. His immense body weaved this way and that as he dodged blows and kicked his horse toward one of the demons. Safar gasped as another demon charged in from the side, bearing down on the caravan master with a battle ax. Before the demon could strike Safar saw a tall figure leap from a felled wagon.
It was Iraj!
His legs scissored open as he vaulted onto the saddle behind the demon, then closed to grip the mount's flanks with the ease of a practiced plains rider.
Iraj flung one arm around the demon's head, heaving to draw it backand he plunged a dagger into the exposed throat.
It was then Safar learned that demons die hard.
The creature gouted bright red blood, but reached for Iraj, talons scything out. Iraj somersaulted off the saddle just in time, landing on his feet and drawing his scimitar as he came up. The wounded demon rolled off and rushed at Iraj, fouling the snow with his bloodspray.
Iraj stepped forward to meet him but his foot slipped and he fell face forward. The demon was on him, raising his ax to kill his fallen enemy before his own life drained away.
Once again all time slowed for Safar. This time it wasn't only magic that came to his aid. His sling was suddenly in one hand. With the other he was withdrawing a heavy clay ball from his shot pouch.
Then time jumped and the demon's ax was descending.
Time froze again as Safar loaded his sling and swung it about his head.
He let loose just before the demon's blade struck. The ball caught the beast full in the mouth and Safar cursed, for he'd aimed at the killing spot between the demon's eyes. His fingers suddenly turned numb, betraying him as he fumbled for another clay ball. But it wasn't necessary.
The monster sagged back… slowly, so slowly… then toppled over into the snow.
The demon tried to struggle up on one elbow. Safar drew his knife and raced over to finish him off.
But then the demon looked at him, freezing him with his strange yellow eyes.
"I should have killed the human myself, the demon said. Bad luck all around."
Then blood burst from his mouth and he fell back, dead.
Too fired by the battle to wonder what the creature meant, Safar rushed over to Iraj to help him to his feet. As he bent down, back unprotected, a huge shadow fell over him. He looked up, thinking he'd see the face of death. Relief flooded in when he saw a bearded human face peering at him instead of a demon's. And it was an ordinary horse the man sat upon, not a monster with fangs and claws.
The caravan master's gaze went from Safar to Iraj.
"Thank you for my life, young fellow, he said to Iraj. If the gods are kind and Coralean survives this day you will learn just how much I value my skin."
Then he spurred his mount back into the action. But now the winds of fortune had shifted and it was the demons who were being routed and slain.
Safar's relief lasted only the length of time it took for Iraj to leap to his feet.
"There's more, Safar! he cried. It's not over yet!"
And Safar remembered the othermuch largerforce waiting in the ravine.
No sooner had memory wormed its cold way through the mud of his confusion then he heard the shrill ululation announcing the second attack. His head shot up and he saw the demons beginning to pour out of the mouth of the ravine.
"Stop them! Iraj shouted.
Safar gaped. Had his friend gone mad? How was he supposed to accomplish that?
"You can do it! Iraj said. I know you can!"