Through the Blenar ranks Blade slashed, both swords leaping and flashing with terrifying speed and thrusting and slashing with terrifying effect. He killed or crippled five men before he was even aware of it, his flawless training and lightning reflexes taking control of his brain. Then he became fully conscious of where he was and what he was doing. He began to carve his way forward, not as fast as before, but even more surely.

The Blenar were trying to turn and face the attack in their rear. But they could not weaken the wall against Idrana's women too much. Within minutes Blade's attack was packing the Blenar so tightly that only the front rank could move or use their weapons. And a single rank of Blenar could not hope to stand against the fury and skill of Blade and his comrades.

Blade saw Himgar hack through the shaft of a spear with one stroke, and the neck of the spearsman with the return slash. A Blenar with two swords ran at him while he was killing the first one. But Truja was fighting on Himgar's flank, and she stepped across to cover the Councilor, thrusting the attacker in the stomach as she did so. The second Blenar sank down on the trampled and blood-smeared grass almost beside the first.

Then a solid mass of Blenar was coming at Blade, and he and the people on either side of him had to give way for a moment. But only for a moment. As the Blenar pushed forward, the attackers curled around them and drove in behind them. Again Blade was the first to make the move and he did so with even more determination than usual. In the center of the Blenar he could see the bulky shape of Rilgon himself.

Blade hacked his way past three successive Blenar, not even trying to kill them. He was satisfied with getting them out of his way and leaving them for his comrades to kill. His goal was Rilgon-the heart and brains of the enemy.

But as Blade drove into the ranks of the enemy, he found his own arms had less room to swing and strike. As he came within striking distance of Rilgon, a dying Blenar reeled into him, pinning his left arm against his side for a moment. At the same moment Rilgon lashed out and down with his long, jeweled sword. Blade's long-sword snapped up just in time to keep the blow from splitting his skull, but the point ripped open the scalp on the right side of his head. Blade felt the pain sear and the blood start flowing. With a convulsive jerk of his left arm, he shoved the dying Blenar away. Then his short sword lunged forward, driving in under Rilgon's shield. Blade felt it sink into flesh, saw Rilgon grit his teeth and let his breath out in a hiss.

Rilgon's long-sword whistled high, coming over and down, and again Blade blocked it. The clang of steel on steel half-deafened him. He swung his own long-sword around and brought it in from the side, hoping to draw Rilgon's shield out of position.

He did. If Rilgon had ever fought before against a thrusting sword, he gave no sign of it now. His shield swung unnecessarily wide to meet Blade's slash. Blade's long-sword crashed into the edge of the shield. At the same moment Blade's short-sword plunged into Rilgon's unguarded side, vanishing halfway up to the hilt.

Rilgon gasped, coughed, and reeled. His shield sagged and dropped away. He lurched back, the shortsword still deep in his side, and coughed again, spraying blood all over Blade. Before Rilgon could do anything else, Blade's sword came down for the last time, with a force that would have sent it through a steel post. It went through Rilgon's neck as though the neck had been a twig. The severed head flew into the air and dropped at Blade's feet. As the body with its spouting neck toppled, Blade jabbed his long-sword into the head and raised it high.

He took a deep breath, and roared, «Rilgon's men-see your leader-he is dead! Now it is your turn-all of you!» Cheers went up from the Purple River army on either side of Blade and behind him. Then Blade was too busy coping with a fresh rush of still-fighting Blenar to shout again or to see the effects of his first cry.

In fact, for a long time he was too busy to see or hear anything that was not immediately in front of him. At least it seemed like a long time-entire hours of slashing and thrusting and parrying with his sword or blocking with a shield he snatched up from a fallen Blenar.

It could not have been hours, however. In fact, it was probably only a few minutes. Certainly the whole battle from first arrow to last flurry of sword-cuts lasted less than an hour. While Blade's attack was confusing and confounding Rilgon's center and disposing of Rilgon, the rest of his army was smashing into the Senar on either flank. The Senar's new fighting skills were no match for the Purple River warriors in their armor, the trained fighting women of the city, or the farm women fighting for vengeance.

The Senar were already crumbling when the word ran through their ranks that Rilgon was dead. Then they not only crumbled; they collapsed. They began to break away and try to run. As they did so, everybody with a bow unlimbered it and began picking them off one by one. Those without bows joined in the attack on the rapidly diminishing force of Blenar in the center. Gradually the Blenar shrank away to nothing.

It was then that Blade made his way forward, over the piled bodies, toward where the women of the city stood in a tight circle around their standard. He could see that there were a good many less than three thousand of them now. Hundreds of the women lay dead amid the bodies of their enemies. Many of those still on their feet were blood-stained and pale. But there was one more woman of the city who would have to die before there could be peace in Brega.

Idrana.

He was within a hundred yards of the women's lines when he saw a familiar long-limbed figure sprawled on the ground off to his left. He turned and quickened his step, came up to her, knelt down beside her. There was nothing more to do for Idrana-or to her. A Senar spear had transfixed her from back to front as neatly as a pin impaling a butterfly. Blade felt empty of any emotion as he stared down at the still, pale face.

Then he heard a voice calling softly, from beyond Idrana.

«Blade-here.»

He raised his head-and started. Twenty feet away, Truja lay on her stomach, raising a pale, pain-twisted face toward Blade. In two bounds he was beside her, kneeling again. She tried to keep her head up, could not find the strength, and instead rolled over on her side. The movement brought a gasp of agony and revealed a gaping wound that ran from breast to groin. It was obvious that Truja had only a few minutes to live.

She was plucking at his trousers, trying to get his attention again.

«Yes, Truja.»

«Tell-Himgar. No time-wish I had-«

«I know. I'll tell him. You rest.»

«No. Idrana-«

«She's dead.»

«I know. Put-spear-myself. Looked like-Senar did it. Got-me-with sword-didn't step back. But she's dead. Had to-honor-future of Brega City-oh, Mother Kina!» The last was almost a scream. Truja clenched her teeth and for a moment her body contorted like a worm on a hook. Then she slumped back, blood trickling from her mouth. A moment later her eyes drifted closed, and her breathing stopped.