Blade couldn't help wondering if the Riders of Death got themselves up like mobile arsenals just to impress people, or if they could really use all the hardware they carried around. Certainly the tales he had heard said they could. Even more certainly they were coming on, steadily holding formation like disciplined and trained men. But around him, Blade could see that the Scadori were also holding their square. They might not be professionals, but they were warriors determined to make their last fight a good one.

Four hundred yards out; the Karani unslung their bows and snatched arrows from their quivers. At three hundred yards they opened fire. Arrows whistled down out of the sky, striking hard enough to drive through armor. But unless they were mortally hit, the Scadori stayed on their feet. Blade saw Jarud grit his teeth, snap off an arrow driven clean through his shoulder, throw both pieces away, and shift his spear to his other hand. Scadori did go down, but as warriors fell or crawled away, others moved up to take their places in the outer rank of the square. Blade realized that he didn't need to give any more orders. Now that he had rallied them from their first panic, the Scadori would fight as long and as well as possible. He gripped broadsword and spear until his knuckles stood out white under the calluses and grime, and waited.

The Riders kept up their arrow fire as their line slowly curved around the Scadori square, folding the wings of the crescent around it. When all the Riders were within a hundred yards, the bows were slung and the darts came out. The name «darts» seemed too innocent for what the Riders brandished now. They were more like thick-shafted miniature spears, three feet long, finned and balanced.

Twenty at a time, the Riders swept in toward the square, riding in a single line. The line curved in toward the Scadori until the lead Rider was twenty yards away. His arm snapped forward, the head of his dart gleamed in the air, and a Scadori warrior gasped as the dart drove through his shield and pinned it to his shield arm. Before the man's scream died away the Rider was swinging away, moving out of spear range as another Karani rode in, dart swinging, seeking a target of his own.

The Riders of Death could have cut down the Scadori with arrows from a distance without any danger to themselves. They might have ridden down the Scadori with their lances with only light losses. What they were actually doing was much more dangerous. Blade saw Riders go down, men or horses pierced by Scadori spears. It was also slow. But then the Karani commander had all the time in the world. If he didn't care about his men, or cared more about putting on a good show…

The Scadori lines were growing thin, and the center of the square was filling up with men who writhed and groaned or simply lay quiet, staring up at the sky. Blade saw Jarud go down with a dart in his thigh and another in his stomach, his heavy shield pincushioned with five more darts. Blade stepped forward, picked up the shield, and took Jarud's place in the outer line.

Blade's spear took one Rider's horse in the chest. The horse went to its knees and the Rider sailed over its head and crashed to the ground. Before he could rise Blade jerked a dart from his shield and flung it with deadly accuracy. It drove into the man's skull just below the ear, and he promptly stopped moving.

Then a woman's shrill scream cut through the pounding hooves and Karani and Scadori war cries. Blade's head jerked in the direction of the sound, and his breath stuck in his throat. A man in spectacularly gilded armor was riding up to the Karani line. Over his saddle he was carrying a woman. She was completely naked, and her dark hair tossed as she struggled wildly against the hand pressed brutally down on the small of her back.

Tera.

Blade's breath went out of him in a long, slow hiss. Suddenly he had a purpose that was more than standing here among the Scadori until his luck ran out. As the next Rider came trotting in, Blade pulled another dart out of the shield and waited. The Rider's arm was just going up for his throw when Blade flung his own dart squarely into the man's face. He threw up his hands and tottered backward. Out of control, his horse swept onward toward the Scadori.

Blade met the horse as it crashed through the Scadori line. He dropped his shield, clutched the bridle with one hand, and struck at the toppling Rider with his sword. The man's head flew from his shoulders and the impact of the blow swept him out of the saddle and over the rump of his horse. Before the headless corpse hit the ground, Blade was swinging himself up into the empty saddle. He was firmly seated before the horse could realize what was going on and make up its mind to resist.

Blade had the horse back through the Scadori line and moving out at a trot before any of the other Riders could react. The first one he met seemed frozen by surprise as Blade rode at him. Blade's lance swung down into striking position and smashed the Rider out of his saddle. The Rider behind him pulled up so abruptly that his horse lost its footing on the rocky ground and spilled him, directly into Blade's path. The man gave one horrible scream as the hooves crushed in his chest, then he was left behind, kicking and groaning for breath. Blade dug his heels into the horse's flanks, urging it forward still faster.

He would have been a fine archery target if anyone had bothered to shoot at him. But half the Riders were too surprised and the other half were too afraid of hitting their comrades. Blade pounded across the open ground, crouching low in the saddle, urging the horse on with shouts and kicks. There was only one thing in his mind now-the man with the gilded armor and Tera sprawled across his saddle.

A moment later the man realized that he was Blade's target. He dug his spurs into his horse and turned away as a dozen of his men rode forward on either side, forming a solid line facing Blade. But by this time Blade had his horse moving at a canter. He hit the line before it was fully formed. His Scadori broadsword swept in a murderous are that sliced through one Rider's raised forearm, helmet, and skull. It stuck in the skull and jerked out of Blade's hand as the dead Rider toppled. Blade urged his horse on and drew the long Karani sword out of its saddle-mounted scabbard.

Now the man in the gilded armor apparently realized that Tera was a handicap. His free arm heaved, sending her flying headfirst out of the saddle. She struck the hard ground with a scream, sprawling face down. She was just rising to her hands and knees as Blade rode up. For a moment he was tempted to snatch her up and try to ride clear with her. She stared wide-eyed at him, mouth dripping blood from a cut lip and bruises already showing dark on her arms, breasts, and thighs.

In the next moment trumpets sounded again, and behind him Blade heard the thunder of fast-moving horses, hundreds of them. He turned and saw what seemed like a thousand more Riders pouring up the slope, brandishing lances and swords and bellowing war-cries. At their head was another man in gilded armor. But this one looked seven feet tall at least, rode a horse that seemed the size of a small elephant, and brandished a club that looked like a young tree. Before Blade could reach down for Tera or get his horse moving again, the giant was on him.

Blade's sword flashed up. The club came down on it, and the steel snapped as though it had been made of bamboo. The club rose again in a feint at Blade's head, then swept in an arc that ended in the center of Blade's chest.

Suddenly he had no more breath, and no more strength to hold on to the saddle or his sword. He knew he was toppling sideways out of the saddle, knew that the giant was charging on past with roars of laughter, knew that the ground came up and hit him hard. Then he stopped knowing anything.