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Spinning her sword in wild loops, the pommel burning the skin of her palms and that cold, clear fury burning her eyes, Kyali kneed Ainhearag even closer.
    Both his blades came down, right at her head, crossed like daggers. She yelled—she couldn't help it—and caught them where they crossed in the quillions of her crossguard.
    For a second, his eyes met hers on the other side of that tangle of blades. Then she heaved and he went flying out of the saddle, looking almost comically startled. One of his own men trampled him. Kyali looked away with a grimace as his scream cut short. A ranger—was it Birgit?—came beside her, blood dripping from a nasty gash above her ear. The ranger shouted something. Ears ringing, Kyali shook her head, and the woman pulled her facecloth down.
    "What now?" Birgit shouted. Kyali could only stare, appalled that anyone should be looking to her for direction. One desperate idea did not a commander make. Before she could voice her outrage, they were overrun by three more Allaida, and as she brought the sword up yet again—it had blood on it now—a plan formed in her head with all the imperative suddenness of a bolt of lightning.
    "To the trees, run for it! And draw your bows!" Kyali bellowed, trying to make herself heard above the clamor. "I'll draw them behind!"
    Birgit turned her horse and sped off in that direction with never a word of question or protest. The rest of the rangers raced after her.
    Kyali fended off a poorly wielded staff, unhorsed another wild-eyed raider. Probably she should take her own orders now. But she needed to be sure, first, that she would be followed. The enemy had taken losses, and looked to be losing enthusiasm for this argument. Squelching the panic that wanted to fly up out of her throat, Kyali turned her horse into the edge of the milling group of Allaida and whipped her sword out sideways, so the flat of the blade struck one man in the face.
    "Cowards!" she shouted, and wheeled around toward the trees. " Run ," she whispered desperately in her horse's ear. Ainhearag replied instantly, her great hooves thundering against the ground.
    The Allaida, what remained of them, came after her.
    Kyali kept her head down as they broke through the treeline. She reined her horse sharply to the side as they hit deeper cover and clung on desperately as Ainhearag banked like a hawk, dodging trees by such a narrow margin that Kyali felt bark scrape her knees. She risked a glance up, saw a boot dangling from a branch at eye level, and put her head back down. Behind her there was a wild crunch and crackle as the remains of the Allaida band launched themselves headlong into the trees.
    Then the sudden, deadly music of bowstrings.
    It got very quiet after that.
    Ainhearag slowed when she sat back in the saddle, but didn't stop. Kyali didn't argue. It didn't sound like anybody was following now—Fraonir were lethal archers—but she'd had enough of being chased for a lifetime. If her horse wanted to wander all the way down the mountain, she would ride along gladly right now.
    Ainhearag had no such plans, though, and slowed again, breathing in anxious whuffs. Sweat foamed on her dark coat. Kyali reined her to a stop and dismounted, then had to lean against that great heaving side and hold onto the saddle: her knees were wobbling so badly she was afraid she would fall. Her sword was still stuck in one trembling fist. She pulled a soft square of cloth out of her pocket and cleaned it standing braced against Ainhearag, trying to slow her pulse. When she felt like she could stand on her own, she sheathed the blade and looked her horse in one white-rimmed eye.
    "Thank you," she said. Ainhearag whuffed again and lipped at her fingers hopefully. And then her big head rose, nostrils flaring anxiously.
    Kyali had the sword out in a heartbeat. She could see how badly she was shaking in how the blade threw sunlight everywhere.
    "You did well," a familiar voice said, and Kyali lowered the sword. A