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Authors: James Heneage
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nothing. Luke was making his task easier; the range was narrowing with every step. Luke held his head high. He was watching the horse and the horse was watching him. It was young and skittish and nervous of the currents flowing about its feet. The sudden glance of sunlight breaking on stone wasn’t part of its life on the steppe. Still Luke watched it.
I, too, am afraid. I will come to you and we will master our fear together
.
Their eyes were locked. The space between them was fifty paces, then forty.
But there’s something I want you to do
.
It was twenty paces now and still the man aimed the bow at Luke. At this range, he couldn’t miss.
Now!
The horse reared. For a moment it looked as if the rider would keep to his saddle. Then it reared again and the man came down. The bow fell and its arrow glanced against a rock. Luke sprang forward as the horse scrambled to the bank, water exploding around its hooves. The rider thrashed about, trying to draw his sword, but the current was too strong and the water too cold. Then Luke was upon him and the mask had been pulled away and the man’s head was between two powerful hands that were pushing it under.
The fight was short and vicious. The man was strong and wanted to live and he gripped Luke’s forearms with a force that seemed beyond human. Twice his face came up, eyes bulging with defiance as he choked and bit at Luke’s hands, but each time Luke forced him back beneath the water. The heaving chest rose a last time and told of lungs full of water and the man’s hands fell away. Then he was still and the bubbles rose from purple lips and Luke knew that he was dead. Exhausted, he rolled away into the water.
The horse
.
He looked up at the bank and the horse was there, calmly cropping the grass. Luke whistled softly. The animal raised its head, grass hanging slack from its mouth and recognition in its eye. A fly settled on its nose and was shaken away but the horse remained still. Luke rose, picked up the bow and walked unsteadily to the bank, opening and closing his fists to restorethe circulation. He felt suddenly exhilarated by the prospect of climbing on to the back of this horse. Then he was beside it and his hands were deep within the thick hair of its mane and his mouth was next to its ear and the bond that was without explanation was being made. He put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle.
We will master our fear together
.
It was half a mile to the camp and he knew the raiders were ahead of him. He dug his heels into the horse’s sides and it leapt forward, relieved to be free of the water. They found a path that ran beside the riverbank and Luke urged the horse into a canter. By now it was nearly night and the rim of the escarpment was outlined by the sun that had just gone down behind it. He reached the junction of the two valleys and turned north for the camp. Up ahead there was fire in the sky.
Luke kicked harder, breaking into a gallop even as the sides of the valley grew steeper. There were trees in front of them with a halo of light above them. Then he was in the trees and the smell of burning was among them and the sound of fighting only just beyond. He emerged from the wood and before him was chaos. Ahead were the ribbed skeletons of tents aflame and silhouettes between. Arrows flew and people were running and falling. He saw swords arc and heard the screams of men as they fell. There was an explosion of flame as a tent collapsed.
‘Lug!’
It was a girl. He strained to see who but was blinded by the glare. Then he saw Arkal, hand in hand with Tsaurig, running towards him as fast as she could. The pair reached him and Arkal bent double to regain her breath. She was holding her leg, obviously in pain. Dismounting, Luke wondered fleetingly why he’d never asked her about it.
‘Lug …’ She was panting hard and the words came in spasms. ‘Lug, you must not go on. They …’ She looked behind and then up at him
I, too, am afraid. I will come to you and we will master our fear together
.
Their eyes were locked. The space between them was fifty paces, then forty.
But there’s something I want you to do
.
It was twenty paces now and still the man aimed the bow at Luke. At this range, he couldn’t miss.
Now!
The horse reared. For a moment it looked as if the rider would keep to his saddle. Then it reared again and the man came down. The bow fell and its arrow glanced against a rock. Luke sprang forward as the horse scrambled to the bank, water exploding around its hooves. The rider thrashed about, trying to draw his sword, but the current was too strong and the water too cold. Then Luke was upon him and the mask had been pulled away and the man’s head was between two powerful hands that were pushing it under.
The fight was short and vicious. The man was strong and wanted to live and he gripped Luke’s forearms with a force that seemed beyond human. Twice his face came up, eyes bulging with defiance as he choked and bit at Luke’s hands, but each time Luke forced him back beneath the water. The heaving chest rose a last time and told of lungs full of water and the man’s hands fell away. Then he was still and the bubbles rose from purple lips and Luke knew that he was dead. Exhausted, he rolled away into the water.
The horse
.
He looked up at the bank and the horse was there, calmly cropping the grass. Luke whistled softly. The animal raised its head, grass hanging slack from its mouth and recognition in its eye. A fly settled on its nose and was shaken away but the horse remained still. Luke rose, picked up the bow and walked unsteadily to the bank, opening and closing his fists to restorethe circulation. He felt suddenly exhilarated by the prospect of climbing on to the back of this horse. Then he was beside it and his hands were deep within the thick hair of its mane and his mouth was next to its ear and the bond that was without explanation was being made. He put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle.
We will master our fear together
.
It was half a mile to the camp and he knew the raiders were ahead of him. He dug his heels into the horse’s sides and it leapt forward, relieved to be free of the water. They found a path that ran beside the riverbank and Luke urged the horse into a canter. By now it was nearly night and the rim of the escarpment was outlined by the sun that had just gone down behind it. He reached the junction of the two valleys and turned north for the camp. Up ahead there was fire in the sky.
Luke kicked harder, breaking into a gallop even as the sides of the valley grew steeper. There were trees in front of them with a halo of light above them. Then he was in the trees and the smell of burning was among them and the sound of fighting only just beyond. He emerged from the wood and before him was chaos. Ahead were the ribbed skeletons of tents aflame and silhouettes between. Arrows flew and people were running and falling. He saw swords arc and heard the screams of men as they fell. There was an explosion of flame as a tent collapsed.
‘Lug!’
It was a girl. He strained to see who but was blinded by the glare. Then he saw Arkal, hand in hand with Tsaurig, running towards him as fast as she could. The pair reached him and Arkal bent double to regain her breath. She was holding her leg, obviously in pain. Dismounting, Luke wondered fleetingly why he’d never asked her about it.
‘Lug …’ She was panting hard and the words came in spasms. ‘Lug, you must not go on. They …’ She looked behind and then up at him
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