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  A shout spun Jhaban’s head around. Banthros was standing at the mouth of the cave. “They’ve found us!”

  Thimeon raced to the mouth of the cave. “How much time do we have?” he asked, his voice on the edge of panic.

  “Five minutes,” Banthros answered.

  “Then all hope is lost,” cried Kayam. “We can’t outrun them!”

  “No,” Banthros said. “We cannot. So it comes to a fight. If we can find a defensible position, we might hold out for a day or so even with our small numbers.”

  A day or two? Jhaban thought. So that was all the time he had left. Unless some unhoped for miracle came to their aid.

  “What about this cave?” Kachtin suggested. “We could simply guard the entrance. They’d have to fight us one at a time.”

  Dhan shook his head. “Knowing Jhaban’s skill with a sword—and the bravery of all of you—that might indeed be our best chance, except for one thing. We have no more food. They would never even have to fight us. They only have to wait and starve us out.”

  “And if we cannot escape here, we have failed our mission,” Thimeon said. “Whether we fight or starve.”

  “And El-Phern is smart enough to figure that out,” Dhan concluded. “At least if we fight and hold the hillside, we have some hope of some of us escaping. Let us do so with all the courage we have.”

  Jhaban’s prince turned and strode out the mouth of the cave. Jhaban was about to follow when Lyn rose up out of the darkness of the cave right in front of him and grabbed Thimeon by the arm. In the dim light his eyes glowed with an almost fierce gaze. Or perhaps it was just desperation. Thimeon started to pull away, but then he stopped and met Lyn’s gaze.

  “I want you to know that I had not betrayed you when you captured me,” Lyn said. “Nor did I betray you at Cathwain’s village. I know you have no reason to trust me. But I’m sorry for what I did in Citadel and Kreana. I did not do it again. You can believe me or not, but it’s the truth.” Before Thimeon could even respond, Lyn turned and strode toward the back of the cave.

  Thimeon turned and looked at Jhaban. Whatever his thoughts, Jhaban could not read them. Thimeon turned and walked toward a small figure who stood near the mouth of the cave. Jhaban followed him and found Cathwain. She looked terrified. Thimeon put his hands on her shoulders. “I need your help. Use your gift. Speak to Elynna or Tienna if you can, whichever one you think can hear you. Make sure they understand. Tell them what has happened, and that they should not come here. Tell them we have failed.”

  Cathwain nodded, but she spoke no words. She looked too frightened even to speak. Jhaban felt his heart breaking not for himself, or even for their failed quest, but for Cathwain, and Corandra, and Jhonna. And even for Thimeon. If he could give his life to save any one of them, he would.

  When Thimeon stepped out of the cave mouth into the narrow gully, Jhaban went with him. Dhan stood there, along with his other officers. The rest of the company was there as well except for Cathwain and Lyn. Thimeon looked at Banthros and Kachtin. “Gird your swords,” he said in a grim voice. “You’ll get the battle you want.”

  The Northlanders nodded. “It may be futile,” Banthros replied. “But we’ll make them pay a price.”

  Thimeon turned to the prince. “I know little of warfare. You must lead us. I have failed.”

  The prince put a comforting hand on Thimeon’s shoulder, then let it fall. He let his glance fall on each of his officers in turn. “Take your weapons and come with me. We will claim what ground we can, and defend it as long as you can. The rest of you, if you choose not to wield a weapon now, your best hope is to wait here in the cave. While we stand, you will be safe here. But when we fall, the cave will fall also.”

  The prince then strode out toward the end of the gully. All the officers followed him, along with Thimeon, Corandra, Siyen, and the old soldier Kayam. Jhonna and Gaelim returned to the mouth of the cave. At once the prince ordered his men into positions, either just outside the gully behind rocks, or back inside where gaps offered good vantages.

  Jhaban took a position right at the mouth of the gully. He had his sword in his hand. A bow might have been better for a short time, he thought, but he had never been good with a bow. The sword had always been his weapon.

  Then he looked out in the dark gray of pre-dawn at the slope he had gazed upon the previous evening in the last light after dusk. Below their little refuge, a mountain meadow sloped steeply down toward a wood about a hundred yards away. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the trees, he thought he could make out dark figures moving through the woods.

  He felt movement and looked behind him. Thimeon climbed up on a flat rock beside Jhaban and stared out of the gully with him. The special sword they had come all this way only to lose was still strapped to his side. He held instead his bow. Armas and Siyen took their bows up the other side of their opening and held arrows in their hands.

  They would all be hard-pressed soon enough, Jhaban thought. He tried to put his fears aside and considered their location from a strategic standpoint. One thing they had in their favor, which they hadn’t realized the night before, was that the slope directly above them was sheer and icy, though blown free of snow. The enemy would be hard pressed to get above them. The steepness of the slope and the depth of snow was also in the defender’s favor as was the fact that the last hundred yards of slope were barren of trees. Soldiers wading uphill would be easy targets for the archers, and those who made it up the slope would arrive already tired. If the company of the prince hadn’t been so horribly outnumbered, Jhaban would have felt very satisfied with their position. Even outnumbered as they were, he thought they could defend the slope for some time. Banthros had said one or two days. Jhaban would do his best to make it last longer than that.

  Even as he thought that, the first enemy soldiers crept out of the dark trees and started up the hill through the snow. What little hope they might have had for two or three of them to escape was probably gone now. Any attempt out of their little sheltered spot would make them easy marks for enemy bowman and also easy enough to follow.

  He turned and looked at Thimeon. He was already putting an arrow to his string. Beyond him, Armas and Siyen did the same. They had only a limited store of arrows, Jhaban realized. They would have to make every one count.

  Slowly the enemy began to close in. They moved slowly keeping as much as possible behind the few waist or chest high boulders that dotted the field. When they were fifty yards out, Jhaban heard a twang near his ear. From the corner of his eye, he saw that it came from Siyen’s bow. An arrow zipped down the hill and nicked a rock above the head of one of the approach soldiers. The soldier ducked back in for cover, and his companions either backed a few steps further out of range, or flung themselves down behind the rocks. Over the next several minutes, the defenders wasted a dozen or so more arrows. They did nothing more than keep the front of the enemy line from advancing. More soldiers kept coming up from the trees, however. Soon thirty or forty soldiers lined the mountain on both sides, and at least that many below them.

  “They’re in no rush,” Jhaban said. “They can wait forever. Maybe we should pick a side and try to break through.”

  “Even if we succeeded, they would catch us soon enough,” Thimeon answered. “Let us wait and hope.”

  “Hope for what?” Jhaban asked.

  “I don’t know,” Thimeon replied.

  26

  A DESPERATE PLAN

  Bandor lay on his back for several seconds. His entire upper body was in excruciating pain. His eyes remained open, but he couldn’t focus on anything except the arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder at an odd angle leaving the fletching right in front of his eyes.

  I’m dying, he thought.

  Yet slowly he realized he could still move. He could breath. He was dimly aware of his companions racing about in a flurry of motion around him. Ar
rows still seemed to be raining down. One hit his leg. Or maybe it only hit the ground near his leg. He tried to rise, but he could barely move his left arm. He felt for the arrow with his right hand. It came from his shoulder. Not his heart or lungs.

  Then Cathros appeared in front of him. With arrows still falling in the fading light, the Northlander stooped over, grabbed Bandor’s left arm near the shoulder, and pulled him up and over his back. The motion jarred the arrow and Bandor cried out again in pain. He almost fainted as Cathros carried him twenty or thirty yards into a small stand of trees.

  Bandor sat leaning against a tree. He struggled to focus. Aram stood a short distance away, brandishing a sword. Tienna was peering out into the fading light, her bow in her hand but not drawn. The arrows had stopped falling.

  Elynna’s voice came from somewhere behind him. “Are we all safe?”

  “Everyone but Namha is safe in the trees,” Cathros answered. “I don’t know where Namha went.”

  “Who’s injured?” she asked.

  “Only Bandor,” Cathros said. “He has an arrow in the shoulder. I don’t know how more of us weren’t hit. We can thank the falling dark, I suppose.”

  “Where are the attackers? How many are they?” asked Braga.

  Tienna looked back over her shoulder. “I see them. A group of archers stands atop the ledge on the south side of the gorge, across the river. I don’t know how many. I’ve seen also a few other dark forms moving eastward—upriver—along the top of the ledge.”

  “We won’t be safe here for long,” Braga said.

  “No,” Cathros replied. “But if Tienna is right, neither can we move upriver. We can’t even get to our supplies in the boat. At least not until it gets a little darker.”

  Theo now came over and knelt beside Bandor. He looked at the wound. “How is it?” he asked.

  Bandor gritted his teeth against the pain. “Like I’m on fire,” he answered. “I can’t use my left arm.”

  Theo’s eyes lit up and he turned around. “Tienna,” he called out. “Come quickly.”

  Bandor felt himself beginning to lose consciousness. He closed his eyes. It took all his effort to listen. He heard Tienna’s voice. “The wound is severe. His muscle was torn almost through, and the bone is cracked.”

  “Can you heal him?” Theo asked.

  Bandor heard a deep breath, and then, “Pull out the arrow.” He grimaced as he felt Theo brace one hand against his chest. He shouted in agony as the shaft was ripped free. Then all went black.

  The next thing Bandor knew, he was laying on his back. He didn’t know where he was. His whole body felt strange, as though it were not his body. As though he were in somebody else’s skin. The feeling lasted only a few seconds, then faded beyond recall. He was himself again.

  He had passed out. And then what? And where was he? He’d had a terrible pain in his shoulder. It was gone now.

  The memories rushed back. He sat up quickly and felt his left shoulder. His tunic was torn, but he felt no sign of wound to his flesh. He flexed his shoulder. It felt fine. He turned and saw Tienna leaning against a tree—the same tree he had been leaning against earlier. Her face was pale and drawn and her eyes were closed. He put a grateful hand on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. She grasped his hand once and let go without opening her eyes.

  Bandor rose to his feet and looked around. Darkness was falling quickly but he could still make out the shapes of trees and the glimmer of water. They were in a small stand of what looked like poplar in between the cliff face and the river gravel. The forms of his companions were crouched behind trees or rocks all around the grove. He found Cathros, Braga, and Elynna standing near the edge of the trees looking out and up over the river toward the cliffs on the far side, maybe sixty yards away and rising sixty feet up. Aram and Theo were a short distance away behind another tree. They were glancing back and forth between Cathros and the top of the canyon wall.

  “How many are there,” Bandor asked, trying to make himself useful again as quickly as he could.

  “Tienna had the best look, but she wasn’t sure,” Cathros replied. “They are hiding now. I would guess at least ten, but probably more. She saw figures moving along the edge of the gorge upriver. Namha has disappeared. We hope he is scouting out some escape plan, or at least getting more information about what we are facing.”

  “Are the Daegmons upon us also?” Bandor asked next. He was afraid of the answer.

  “No,” Elynna replied. “I sense none nearby. If they had come, I would have known to warn us.”

  “Are they from Citadel, or Undeani?” Aram asked in a loud whisper.

  “I thought I saw white coats,” Cathros replied. “But in this light, it is hard to tell.”

  “They were Undeani,” Tienna said. She had walked up behind Bandor. She had a bow in her hand again, and color had returned to her cheeks. “Or else they are Citadel soldiers dressed as Undeani.”

  Cathros turned to Braga. “If they are your people, how will they attack?”

  Braga thought for a moment. “They won’t risk open battle. Not unless the Gaergaen is there to spur them on. They’ll just keep to the top of the slope and try to target us one at a time. It’ll be easy for them. It’s an almost impossible shot up the cliff for us, even if they came out into the open, but almost any place we move down here will put us in the open.”

  “Can we escape up the cliff on this side?” Theo asked.

  Braga glanced up through the trees at the near side of the gorge. Bandor followed his gaze, also considering Theo’s question. “We’d be vulnerable while we climbed,” Braga said after a moment. “Even in this light they would have no trouble marking us.” He paused. “It will be dark soon. With this heavy cloud cover, maybe we could avoid being seen. But if they can’t see to shoot us, how will we see to climb?”

  A voice called softly from behind. “Tienna. Cathros.”

  Bandor turned to see Nahoon standing several paces deeper into the trees. A taller figure stood a few steps behind him in the darker shadows. It was Namha. Bandor had no idea where he had gone, but he was glad to see him back.

  “Come. Namha has a word for us,” Nahoon said. “All of you. Braga and Bandor too. And Elynna. Leave somebody on guard.”

  Bandor called softly. “Theo and Aram. Stay here and keep watch.” He turned to Braga. “Have your people keep watch further up, then join us.”

  Braga nodded and disappeared into the trees further up river. Bandor, Elynna, Cathros, and Tienna all backed further into the trees and gathered around Nahoon. Braga reappeared a few seconds later.

  “Namha has something to show us,” Nahoon said. Bandor looked at the Amanti who lifted his hands to reveal a bow and a knife.

  “Undeani weapons,” Braga said at once. “Where did they come from? Did my people lose these?”

  “No,” Nahoon said. “Namha has already climbed the ledge at our backs—on the north side. He just came down.”

  Bandor was stunned. How had Namha climbed up and down so quickly? How long had Bandor been unconscious before or after Tienna had healed him? Preoccupied with those questions, he did not grasp the implications of what Namha held.

  Namha said something in his tongue. Nahoon spoke to the others. “The enemy is already up there waiting for us in hiding. He took these from one of them.”

  “So they already hold both sides of the ravine,” Braga said, speaking aloud the dismaying news that Bandor now grasped. Their situation seemed more hopeless each moment.

  “And the attack from the south was a ruse,” Cathros noted. “A trap. They hoped to drive us up the north side of the ravine where they have an ambush waiting.”

  “Yes,” Nahoon agreed. “That is what Namha said. It was an ambush. If we had tried to escape from the enemy across the river by climbing up these cliffs, we would have been easy prey.”

  “But
what choice do we have?” Elynna asked. “We can’t go back downstream. They’re sure to be waiting for us down there.”

  “Little choice,” Cathros replied. “Downstream is certain death. We can attempt to scale one side or the other and break through their lines. Or we can continue upstream and hope to stay hidden in the gorge.”

  “For how long?” Tienna asked. “I have already seen the enemy moving upstream. They will be waiting for us there as well.”

  Nobody replied. Bandor went back over the options. It didn’t take long. None of them seemed hopeful. They needed some sort of ruse—something more clever than their enemy’s attempt to drive them up the cliffs behind him. As he pondered this, an idea began to form. His last idea had ended so badly that he was almost afraid to suggest it. But still nobody spoke. “There’s one thing we might do,” he finally said. “At least to confuse them.”

  “Tell us,” Braga replied.

  “Wait a few minutes until it grows darker. Then we send two or three of us up this cliff. Our best climbers. They need to be able to climb in the dark, and quietly.” He glanced at Namha as he said this. “I know many of us could not do it. Not in the dark. But it might work with just two or three, if they can do it quietly. Whoever goes up needs only to slay one or two of their scouts, quietly, and then climb back down. But we leave the rope against the wall where they will spot it later.”

  “I don’t understand,” Elynna said.

  “You want to make it look like we escaped that way,” Cathros said. “I understand that. It won’t be easy to do it quietly. But even if we can, then what?”

  Bandor took a deep breath. His plan continued to form in his mind even as he spoke. One ruse would not be enough. They needed another. “Next we hang hoods or cloaks on branches in the boat—something that in the dark might be mistaken for people—and we cut the boat loose to float downstream. That leaves them a riddle. Was our attack up the cliff merely a ruse so that we could escape downstream by boat, or was the boat a ruse so that we could escape up the cliffs?”