ARVIL

 

The lady was drifting toward me, but I could not see her face. My arms encircled Her waist as I sought to join myself to Her. Birana’s face looked up at me. I was suddenly aware of some purpose to the Lady’s blessing, something more than the need to bind men more closely to Her, and yet I could not grasp it.

“Arvil,” She said. I gripped Her, but Her body became as elusive as smoke. “Arvil.” She was melting away before I could satisfy my longing.

I opened my eyes. “Arvil,” the dark form above me said, “you must wake now.”

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, then got to my feet. The spell of my dream still held me. Without thinking, I pulled Birana to me and rested my cheek against her head.

She did not pull away, but her body was stiff, and I could feel her resisting my touch. Dismayed, I released her. “I wanted only to hold you,” I said, “as I might hold a loved friend. If you don’t want my touch, then tell me rather than suffering it.”

“I’m afraid to anger you.”

“You anger me more in this way.”

“I anger you eventually whatever I say or do.”

“In my dream,” I said, “a spirit-woman was with me, but she wore your face. She welcomed my touch, but then…”

“You mustn’t think of that. I can’t endure your embrace. You don’t know what it might lead to, what the consequences could be.” She covered her mouth as if afraid to say more.

“Then I shall try not to touch you again,” I said angrily, “but the spell you have cast on me is a strong one.”

I went among the trees then to relieve myself but still ached even after my water had flowed. My embrace, if she welcomed it, could lead only to blessings, and her kind had made men want them.

“I have no spell on you,” she said as I came toward her. Her head was bowed, and she had folded her arms across her chest as though protecting herself. “I understand your feelings. I know that men of your band sometimes joined together at night. You wouldn’t feel the same way if you had a man to join with—it’s only that you lack other companions.”

She was wrong. Her spell was stronger than a man’s would have been, for she evoked thoughts of blessings.

“I am not a man who cannot control his needs,” I said firmly. “There are those who go to boys and prefer them to other men, even when the boy is unwilling, and there are boys who will offer themselves for an extra piece of meat or a gift of some kind.” I thought of Cor, who had given himself to the Wolf when the Wolf was Headman, and then to Geab. I had despised him for it, for I had known he did not go to those men out of love or respect.

“However great my need was,” I continued, “I preferred to satisfy it alone rather than go to a boy I might overcome or a man I didn’t like, for there is no pleasure in that for me. I was happy to grow strong enough to resist those I did not want, and when the Lady began to bless me, it was that I longed for most. I will not touch you again.” In spite of my words, I knew how hard it would be to keep that promise.

“Was Tal…” She cleared her throat, and I sensed how hard it was for her to speak his name. “Was he one you loved in that way?”

I was shocked. “No guardian would seek pleasures with his charge. I don’t think even the men who attacked us would stoop to that, unless in their madness they embrace all evil.”

“Was there anyone you loved before?”

“There were some I did not refuse, but love…” I paused. “I think that love might have grown between me and Shadow, but I didn’t wish to seek him out until he became a man.” It was hard for me to speak of my feelings for Shadow, now that he was lost to me, and yet his soul had not drawn me as much as Birana’s. “Were there any you loved?”

“Few sought me out. There was no one who loved me.”

I found that hard to believe. How could others not have longed for her? “What about the one who was with you, the one we buried? Did she care for you?”

“She was my mother,” she replied, “my guardian. A mother to me is like a guardian to you.”

“I know that is what a mother is. Our legends call Mary the Mother, for She is the aspect that is guardian to us all. Earth is our mother, for we’re created from Earth’s dust.” Something in my words reminded me of my dream, where my thoughts had seemed slippery and out of reach. “The Mother brings life into the world.”

“Arvil, we must go before it grows light.”

Suddenly, I saw a great truth. Men were called to enclaves, and sometimes they were given boys. The creatures of the earth, male and female, joined, and young ones came into being. I had always known this, but had never thought of the Lady’s aspects as creatures like them. From Birana, I had learned that her kind had bodies of flesh and bone, as we did. Now I saw that the spirit-women might join with men to create boys. I did not know how it was possible, but their magic was powerful.

Then another thought came to me. It was not only boys they created, but those of their own kind, for animals brought both female and male into the world. Did Birana’s kind need us for that as well? Was that what she had meant when she said that men were needed?

All of this came to me in an instant. I groaned and nearly fell to the ground. “What is wrong?” Birana cried as she stepped toward me.

“I see a truth you didn’t tell me. I know why men are called. It is from our joining with the spirit-women that boys come, and perhaps young ones of your own kind as well, unless you have other magic for that. Is this so?”

She sank toward the ground. “It is.”

I clenched my fists as I glared down at her. “So that is the purpose for which men live.” I had thought that knowing there was some purpose to our lives would ease my mind, but this knowledge chilled me.

“I didn’t know how I would tell that truth to you,” she said. “From your seed, that which we take from you, others, male and female, are created. You don’t have the power by yourselves to bring more of your kind into existence.”

“You need us and make us long for you. What fools men are. If we did not go to the enclaves, we would have no more boys, but perhaps there would be no more of your kind. If men wanted to punish you for what you have done, we could travel to your enclaves no more.”

“You would only bring about the end of your own kind. We have enough of your seed to survive, or could find other ways.” She spoke words then that I did not understand, but somehow I saw that seed from many men was more desired than seed from only a few. “We might become less adaptable, less varied,” she said, “but we would live.”

I wanted to strike her and through her strike out at all of her kind. We were not called to be blessed, but to have part of ourselves stolen from us.

“You have come to see the truth,” Birana went on. “I dreaded knowing I might have to tell it to you, but you were able to see it for yourself. Other men might see it as well, perhaps not so quickly, but in time, if we didn’t take so much trouble to hide it.”

I pulled her up roughly by her coat. She put up her hands, and I could not bring myself to strike. “The smallest creatures of Earth are treated more kindly than we,” I said, “for although their females rule the males, they allow the males to dwell among them.”

“Arvil, I…”

“Do not speak to me now.”

The sky was beginning to grow gray in the east. I went to Star, freed her reins, and mounted.

 

 

My mind cleared at last while we rode, although my world was becoming more merciless with every truth I learned.

The plain was giving way to rolling land, and as our horses carried us over a small rise, I saw the dome of a shrine to the southeast. Sunlight danced on a stream flowing past the shrine, and a man was standing near the water.

“We must go to that shrine,” I said as I reined in my horse. “We may be able to learn something of this land from that man.” I looked back toward the west. I did not expect to spy our pursuers and did not see them. But a man knows when he is being hunted, and I seemed to sense them following our trail.

“I’m afraid to enter that place,” she said.

“We need not fear attack there. What happened to us never happened before and is unlikely to happen again. If this man is with others, we’ll ride away and be far before they can follow on foot, but I think he is alone.”

We rode quickly toward the shrine. Although I would not admit it to Birana, I could no longer look upon a shrine as a safe refuge. The attack upon us had marked me and given me new fears.

The man looked up, saw us, and ran inside. As we rode up to the entrance, I looked down at the ground but read no signs of other men.

We dismounted and rubbed down the horses quickly, then tethered them to a willow near the stream. “Do not speak,” I said before we entered. “I shall question this man, and then we’ll ride on.”

We walked inside. The man was sitting near the altar, alone, under the image of Mary. He was clothed in a leather shirt and a vest of fur. His leggings were also of leather, and feathers hung from a cord of leather around his neck. His hair was black and fell past his shoulders, but he had no beard.

He looked up. “A truce while we speak,” the young man said in the holy speech.

“There is always peace in Her presence,” I replied. We went to the altar and sat down in front of him. “And I pray that there will be peace between us when we leave this place, as we must soon, for we will not stay in this land.”

His brown eyes narrowed. “Do you pledge, before Her, that you will not harm me when I depart?”

“I promise that.”

“Then I shall promise the same, since I would not wish to battle against two who ride the beasts you left outside. I cannot speak for my band, for I am a boy, but we have always roamed this land freely without the need to fight others.”

“We wish no battle,” I said.

“Yet your presence here could mean that others might follow. I have not seen horsemen in this land, although a traveler has told us of how some men live with the horse.”

“We are alone,” I said. “Our band has met misfortune, and we must now travel to another place.”

“The camp of my band lies to the south,” he said. “I am called Ilf, but when I have been called, I’ll return to my band and take a man’s name. I had hoped the Lady would call me now, but although She sent me Her blessing, She did not call me to Her side.”

“I am Arvil, and I was called not long ago. The boy is called Spellweaver.” That name came to me easily now, for it was what Birana had become to me.

Ilf glanced at her, and she lowered her eyes. He turned back to me. “Do you wish to pray and don the Lady’s crown before we speak further?”

“We will pray, as we should,” I said quickly; I had forgotten to bow and kneel before Mary. My beliefs had been shaken, but I would have to observe their forms before other men. “But the Lady has already blessed us at another shrine we passed. I think She will forgive us if we are grateful for that blessing and do not call to Her again.”

He peered sharply at me then. Clearly my words had aroused some suspicion in Ilf, but we had pledged a truce, and he said nothing. Birana and I knelt and went through the motions of silent prayer as it came to me how much I had lost with my faith. My prayers had become empty words. The image of the Lady was only a lifeless form, placed there to deceive us.

“I must ask some questions of you,” I said as we sat down once more, “and in return, I’ll tell you something it would be well for you to know.”

He nodded. “I will answer what I can.”

“We are traveling east. Can you tell me what is ahead, and what dangers may lie in wait for us?”

Ilf was silent for a moment. “I can tell you only what I have heard from others, from the few who have traveled through our land. In three days, perhaps four, you will come to hills, and above these hills to the east you will see what we call the Barrier.”

Birana leaned forward, and seemed about to speak. I put my hand on her sleeve for a moment, then said, “And what is this Barrier?”

“It is not a range of mountains, but neither is it a wall like that around the Lady’s enclave. Some say that the Lady set it there long ago to keep us from straying too far from Her side. I have seen this Barrier once from afar, and the sight filled me with terror. Yet there are men who were brave enough to cross over it, and some men dwell on the other side, so it seems that the Lady will allow some to live there.”

“And what lies beyond?” I asked.

“It is said that there is a vast lake to the east of the hills and that many bands make their camps there.”

I frowned at that.

“There is little to fear from those bands, I am told,” Ilf continued. “It is said that each band is at peace with those nearby, and that a traveler wishing them no harm will not be harmed by them. I was told that, long ago, a band went to that lake and struck at one camp, but men came from other camps to drive them off. By the lake, it seems, an attack on one camp is seen as an attack on all.”

“That is a remarkable thing,” I said.

“It isn’t all that is strange by that lake. It is also said that, in times not long past, one of those bands was especially honored by the Lady, and that She appeared to them in a vision.”

Birana started at those words. The young man’s dark eyes met hers, and in Ilf’s glance I saw lust for the one he thought of as a boy. It was natural for him to feel such an urge, and he would not seek to satisfy it in a shrine, yet his look enraged me. I felt as if he had already laid hands upon her.

I swallowed my rage. “Can you tell me more of this vision?”

“I can tell you little. Of the few who cross the Barrier, even fewer return. I heard this tale of the Lady from one of who did return, but he had not seen the lake for himself. He heard the tale from another man.”

“And these lake bands do not harm travelers?”

“Not if they come in peace. It is even said that strangers can find a place with them.”

“And how far from here is this lake?” I said.

“I cannot say.”

“I don’t know,” I said, “if we’ll seek out those bands, but I thank you for telling us of them.” Ilf would speak the truth in a shrine, but what he had said had been told to him by others and was not something he had seen for himself.

“What lies beyond the lake?” I asked.

“That land is unknown.” He glanced fearfully at the image of Mary. “I don’t know how this can be, but it is said that the Lady Herself is unknown there. It would not be wise to travel east of the lake. A man would be lost, without even the Lady to guide him. There may be demons there to rob him of his soul.”

“I thank you again for what you have told me,” I said. “Now I must tell you something you should know. No more than three days ago, we stopped in a shrine to worship. Two men came there and violated it with unholiness—we were attacked before the altar.”

Ilf’s mouth dropped open. “Inside a shrine?”

“I am telling you the truth, as I must in this holy place. Those men had turned from the Lady and tried to do evil in Her shrine, but the Lady couldn’t abide such unholiness. She lent us strength and we were able to take their lives. Those men have paid for their blasphemy, but others of their band may be pursuing us to seek revenge. They may come to this shrine and prey upon anyone who is here.”

Ilf reached for his spear and gripped it tightly. “I had hoped to be called. I was to spend this day here in prayer and wearing the Lady’s circlet.”

“It would be better for you to return to your band. I do not think they will turn aside, but if they come to your camp, you must not trust them. Any oath they might swear to your band will be a false one.”

“I didn’t know such evil could exist, but you cannot be lying before Her.” Ilf picked up his pack and weapons and followed us outside.

“This is their garb.” I pointed at my sheepskin coat. “Those men ride the horse, as do we. There will be no more than four or five of them. If you see them, you must prepare to fight. Do not treat with them; they will only be waiting for a chance to attack you. Do not let them get close—strike from a distance with arrows and wound the horses if you can. I can tell you no more and pray that those men do not seek out your band, but if they do, you must be prepared.”

He stepped back, wary of our horses, then took a piece of dried meat from his pack. “Take this in return for your warning, Arvil. I have food enough, and you cannot stop to hunt if you are to escape.”

I gave him one of the dead men’s knives in return. “Farewell,” he said as he slipped it under his belt. “I hope you find safety.”

“Farewell, Ilf.”

The young man ran off through the high grass as we refilled our skins and then led the horses to the stream to drink. Ilf, I thought, was one who might have become a friend. Had I been alone, I might have found a place with his band. I gazed at Birana as she knelt by the stream and drank from cupped hands.

“What can you tell me of this Barrier?” I asked.

She stood up. “We call it the Ridge. Long ago, even before most of our cities were built, it was to be a great wall around the lands we left to the Goddess, but it was never completed. It may have been that some decided there was no need for it, or maybe the effort simply became too great. Two cities lie far to the south of the Ridge, and any men living this far north would have to travel some distance to reach them. My city’s ships rarely fly beyond the Ridge.”

“Then we would be safer on the other side.”

“If we can cross the Ridge,” she said.

“If others have crossed it, we can find a way.” Ilf had spoken of bands by a lake, but I did not see how we could live among those men for long without revealing Birana’s true nature. Yet he had also said that one band among them had seen the Lady appear. Could this be only a dream, or the sort of vision that had been visited upon Truthspeaker when he fell into a frenzy? Or could it mean that one like Birana had come among them?

“The refuge I seek may be at that lake, or not far from it,” she said.

“Don’t raise your hopes too high,” I replied. “Ilf told us only what others told him.”

“There’s a chance.”

I did not object. It would be better for us to travel with some hope, however mistaken.

 

 

We stopped that night but did not rest for long. We ate some of our dried meat and rode on while it was still night. In the morning, we stopped once more near a few trees. I dismounted and secured Star.

“We mustn’t stop now,” Birana said.

“We can spend some moments here,” I answered. “I’ll teach you how to use a sling.” It had come to me that it might be easier for her to master this weapon rather than the spear or the bow. “Our enemies, if they follow, will still be far behind us.” The flatlands stretched far to the west, and yet I still saw no sign of pursuit. For a moment, I hoped that they had given up the chase, then turned to Birana. I did not want her helpless, if those men found us, but did not speak that thought aloud.

We searched for stones as I told her which ones were best for hurling; then I showed her how to fit a stone inside the sling. “You must hold the ends together,” I said, “and whirl the sling this way so that the stone is held until you release it.” I whirled the sling and sent the stone against a tree trunk. “Now you must try.”

At first, her stones fell from the sling before she could whirl it. “You must whirl it with more force.” I demonstrated the sling again, then handed it to her. She bit her lip and tried once more. This time, she was able to send the stone a few paces from her feet.

I stepped back and watched as she hurled more stones. They did not strike at where she aimed, and a few still fell from the sling before she could release them, but she was gaining some control.

“Enough,” I said.

“I still can’t hit anything.”

“That will come. You can practice later. You have done well enough for now.”

My praise brought a smile to her lips. We gathered up a few of the stones and continued on our way.

Ilf had said we would come to hills, and already the land to the east was not as flat. On the plain, we could see danger from a distance, while among hills, we could be surprised. We rode more slowly as I searched the ground for men’s tracks.

In the evening, we stopped again so that Birana could try the sling. Her stones flew farther now although they still found no target. I sat on her sheepskin coat as she practiced, watching her body move. Her small breasts lifted under her shirt as she swung her arm, and I imagined my hands upon them.

A half-moon lighted the sky that night. We rode on until I saw that Birana was growing weary. We came to a small slope where a few shrubs grew, and from where I could see much of the land below. “You may rest for a little while,” I told her, “but then we must go.”

She fell asleep quickly, pillowing her head on my old coat. I listened, as her breathing grew steady, then touched her hair lightly, so as not to awaken her. I wanted to lie at her side and feel her warmth against me. Instead, I stood up and paced until the tightness in my groin eased.

There was a torment in being with her, and I worried about how long I could endure it. I could overcome my longing during the day, but at night, when she slept, I had visions of her arms embracing me and of her lips touching mine as those of the spirit-women had. I might have satisfied my need alone, but I feared that this would only fuel my desire for her. All that she had told me had not robbed me of my longing for her.

“Birana,” I whispered. She stirred in her sleep, as if hearing me, but her eyes remained closed.

 

 

We were soon among hills, and our journey was a slow one, for I needed to be alert to danger. As the sky grew lighter, I led us up one high hill so that I could see what lay around us.

These hills were green, and wildflowers had begun to bloom. A flock of birds below us suddenly rose toward the sky in a black cloud. I lifted my eyes toward them and then saw, on the horizon, that which Birana had called the Ridge, and my courage nearly failed me. It was a wall so vast that it dwarfed the one around Birana’s enclave. I wondered how we could ever pass over it.

Birana lifted a hand to her lips as she gazed out at the Ridge. “It doesn’t seem to end,” I said.

“It was never completed. To get around it, we would have to go far to the north or south, but I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off.

“It is another sign of the power of your kind.”

She shook her head. “It’s only a sign of how much we feared when we retreated from your world.”

I slept uneasily that night, and for only a short time. Birana practiced with her sling before we mounted. I had cut away part of the ends to make the sling easier for her to use, and she dropped no stones this time before hurling them, but they did not travel as far. The sight of the Ridge seemed to have robbed her of her spirit.

As we rode east, the Ridge grew higher, and by morning, I could make out some of its features. What had seemed a wall from a distance now looked more like the side of a vast cliff. The Ridge, I saw, had been built of rock, and its surface was uneven, unlike the walls of enclaves. My hopes rose a little. On such a cliff, we might find footing.

Although we had allowed our horses to rest from time to time, I saw their weariness and feared to drive them too hard. They carried us slowly toward the Ridge while I searched for a way over it.

The cliff rose before us. I scanned the expanse quickly, then pointed south. “Do you see?” I asked. Birana shook her head. “There, in that place. It seems a traveler has marked the way.”

We rode toward where I had pointed. An arrow was lodged in the ground; I grabbed it and pulled it out. Perhaps a man some time ago had scouted this land and left a mark for his band. A few worn bones, those of a small creature, perhaps a hare, also lay there. I could imagine a man kneeling to pray before crossing the Ridge, offering the hare to the Lady, hoping She would allow him to pass. I scattered the bones with my foot.

I now saw a possible way up the Ridge, but we would have to lead the horses. I dismounted from Star and tied Wild Spirit’s reins more securely to my pack.

I led the horses onto the rocks while Birana followed. I had to pause often to test my footing. Ground that seemed solid could be loosened as we trod upon it. I murmured to the horses as we climbed, trying to soothe them, urging them on gently. Once we were forced to creep north, unable to move higher for long moments until I saw a way up. I might have turned back, but there was no room for us to turn around, and we were forced to press on. A stone, loosened by Star’s foot, fell, bringing down a shower of pebbles with it; I flattened myself against a wall of rock, then took several breaths before moving on again.

In this way we climbed, and as we moved higher on the Ridge, we found a wider passage among the rocks and firmer footing. I wondered how many feet had worn away this trail, how many men had come here, gazed at the Ridge, and then found the courage to cross.

I did not look up and refused to look down; I did not know that we were near the top until I saw that the passage ended between two sheets of rock. The way was narrow and steep, and I had to pull on Star’s reins to urge her through the passage.

I was standing on a flat surface that ran to the north and south and far enough to the east that I could not see what lay on the other side. I bent down and ran my hand along this surface, which seemed like the substance of the enclave’s wall. Birana’s kind had set this barrier here, must have used some of the mightiest of their magic to build it, and then had abandoned it.

Birana led Flame onto the top of the Ridge. I stepped back to let her pass, then looked out at the land to the west. At first, I saw only the hills, and then movement caught my eye. I squinted. The tiny forms of horses and riders appeared for an instant, then disappeared into a hollow between two hills.

I knew then what I would have to do.

I motioned to Birana and took her arm as she came up to me. “Steady yourself,” I muttered.

“What is it?”

“Gather your courage and look below.”

I heard her cry out as the riders reappeared. “Arvil!”

“They will be sure now that we have no band. They must have ridden their horses hard these past days to have come so far.” Their rage and their madness must have been great to have kept them on our trail.

Birana crouched down and hid her face. It had taken us much of the day to climb up, and our enemies would not reach the Ridge before evening. I wondered if they would chance climbing at night. They would see that we had found a way up. They had come this far; they would surely follow.

“Come with me,” I said. We led the horses toward the eastern side. Below lay more hills and the sparkling ribbon of a distant stream. Along this side of the Ridge, the way down seemed wider and less precarious, for the cliff was not as steep. “Do you think you can lead the horses down alone?”

Her eyes widened. “Won’t you be with me?”

“You must listen. I can run, or I can make my stand here. I count only three of them, and I’ll have high ground. We could end this pursuit here.”

“But, then why…”

“If you lead the horses down, you’ll be safe below. I’ll watch to see what they do. They may turn back, they may fear this Ridge, and then I can follow you. If they do not, they may still believe us gone, and I will have a chance to strike at them as they climb.”

“You might be hurt, Arvil. You might…” She looked away.

“If I fall, you will still have a chance to escape them. You can find another band to protect you when you reveal what you are.”

“No.” She lifted her eyes to me. “I’d rather stay with you. I may not be able to fight, but I can’t leave you to face them alone.” Perhaps she was thinking only that she would have little chance to find safety without me, but her words heartened me nonetheless.

I pointed to the south. “Lead the horses away, then, and secure them farther from here on this Ridge. I don’t want one of them to give us away.”

As she went off with the horses, I walked to the western side. The rocks at the top of the Ridge would conceal us from the men. I peered through the space between the rocks and saw a small boulder just below, along the passage.

I crept down, put my shoulder to this stone, and pushed it up until it blocked part of the space, then climbed over it. I hunkered down and began to test my bow, welcoming the feel of it in my hands. Birana came back to me, and I motioned her down.

She held out a hand as she seated herself. “I brought you food.” I chewed at my meat while she nibbled at hers, then drank some of my water. “What now?”

“We wait, and pray that they turn back.”

 

 

This waiting was hard for her. She said nothing, but her hands fluttered from time to time, and her lips were raw and bleeding as she bit at them. Once, I reached for her hand and rubbed my fingers against the calluses on her palm. Her hand was cold.

I leaned my back against the rock, and the knowledge that I would need to be alert later was enough to allow me to sleep. I awoke when the sun was setting. Birana was gazing over the boulder, keeping her head low.

The men were below; they had come to the place where we had begun our ascent. As they dismounted, I saw the legs of one horse give way. Its rider lashed at the beast until it got to its feet. They had driven their horses too hard. Perhaps they would have to rest.

One man gestured with his arms, then pointed at the Ridge. I could guess what he was saying. He would be telling his companions that they must press on, that they had gained on us, that from the top of the Ridge they could see where we had gone, that the moon would help to light their way. I did not move. One man raised his head. I was too far from him, and the light of the sun was too faint for him to see me, but he might suspect that we were lying in wait for his band. The men sat down as their horses grazed. They might wait us out, wait until we showed ourselves or gave some sign of our presence.

The sun had nearly set. One man stood up again. The others rose and began to lead the horses to the Ridge. They would not be starting their climb if they believed we were here.

Birana caught her breath. “Stay low,” I whispered. “I can do nothing until they are close. You must be still.”

A wind was blowing along the top of the Ridge. I hoped that the wind would not carry my arrows far from their mark. The moon would rise before they reached us. I would have to strike before they could see me clearly.

My mind grew calmer as we waited. I had the advantage of both high ground and surprise. “When I have loosed an arrow,” I whispered, “we shall both push this boulder down the side. Can you do that?”

She nodded. I wanted her safe, and yet I was happy she was with me.

The sun was gone and the half-moon beginning its climb before I heard the voices of the men, although I could not make out their words. I shrugged out of my coat and tested my bow again, then readied an arrow. Holding my bow at my side, I peered around the boulder, waiting to catch my first glimpse of them on the passage below.

At last, when it seemed that the entire night might pass before they reached us, I saw the first of the men. His hands were on the reins of his horse, his spear still tied to his back. He climbed until he was no more than a few paces below us. In one movement, I stood, aimed my bow, and loosed my arrow.

The arrow found the base of his neck. I saw him fall against the legs of his horse. I dropped down as we pushed against the boulder. As it rolled, it loosened other rocks, and I heard a scream as a man and a horse fell from the Ridge, bringing a shower of rocks and pebbles after them. The horse struck an outcropping and lay there senseless. The man disappeared. The horse nearest me scrambled for footing, then reared. Its legs flailed as I sent another arrow into its chest. The horse arched as it fell into the darkness.

One man remained. I heard him bellow his rage but could not see him. As I aimed in his direction, a cloud hid the moon. I released the arrow and heard the cracking of crumbling rock as a horse shrieked. Something had fallen, but I could not tell if it was the man or the horse I had struck.

Birana was on her feet, her back flat against the sheet of rock. She reached under her coat. I held my breath, afraid to move, unable to see.

He was suddenly before me, a shadow just below the gap in the rock. Before I could aim, he had hurled his spear. I leaped to one side to dodge his weapon and felt my head strike rock.

I have failed you, I thought. Darkness swallowed me as the surface rushed up to meet me.