The Harper was also aware that Ruha trailed close behind him, for every now and then her dagger flashed into view. They made a good team, for her quick hand and alert eye were always ready to parry a thrust from his blind side or force an unseen attacker to hesitate long enough for the Harper to finish him off.

At last they reached the place where Kadumi had fallen. No more asabis stepped in to attack and, instead, began retreating into the bulge. A chorus of throaty cheers went up from the warriors behind Lander, and arrows began to sail over their heads as the Mahwa in the rear ranks resumed their attack.

"We forced them back!" Ruha said, her breath coming in labored gasps after the exertion of the battle.

"So it seems," Lander said.

On the far side of the bulge, a series of amarat horns sounded, which the Harper hoped meant that the battle was also going well there. Without giving the matter any more thought, he sheathed his sword and, keeping his dagger handy, started to turn bodies over.

Lander found Kadumi not far from where he remembered seeing the boy fall. From what he could see in the dim light, the youth had suffered a nasty blow to the head and several minor gashes, but all of his limbs were still attached and he was breathing.

"Is he going to live?" Ruha asked.

"Maybe," Lander answered. He sheathed his dagger, then picked the boy up. "But only if we get him out of here before the asabis charge again."

The deep tones of Sa'ar's amarat sounded from the rear of the Mahwa column. Instantly an eerie silence fell over the battlefield as the warriors on the canyon rim ceased their rain of arrows. A great cheer sounded from the far side of the bulge. Lander turned just in time to see a column of trotting camels come into sight, moving as fast as they could up the steep sands. The asabis were scattering toward the walls, leaving an open path up the center of the canyon.

"The Raz'hadi have broken through!" Ruha cried.

As the column of camels approached, the Harper did not know what to say. He could not imagine that the asabis, still nearly a thousand strong, had given up the battle and decided to let the Raz'hadi flee. Yet, that was exactly what it appeared had happened.

Lander watched for a few moments more before he realized what the mercenaries were doing. As the Raz'hadi approached the middle of the bulge, the asabis began climbing the canyon walls, scurrying up the cliffs just as if they had been running along the ground. Within seconds, they were streaming along the rock walls toward the mouth of the canyon.

"They're going to cut us off!" the Harper said.

A concerned murmur rustled through the knot of warriors near Lander. The asabis were moving fast enough to overtake the camels, and trying to shoot so many before they passed would be hopeless.

Sheathing her weapons, Ruha said, "I can stop them."

Without another word, the widow picked up two handfuls of sand and raised them high over her head. The warriors who had joined Lander in repulsing the asabi charge regarded her with suspicious expressions, but Ruha ignored them. She closed her eyes and recited her incantation, then began to hum in a steady, mournful note.

A soft hiss filled the canyon. By the light of the silver-white moon, Lander could see the sand piled on the ledges and shelves of the cliffs running down the rocks like the waterfalls of Archendale. Cursing and crying out in their guttural language, the asabis began dropping from the cliff-sides in tens and twenties.

The warriors began backing up the canyon, their eyes wide with disbelief and trepidation. Only one dared to say anything, and then a single word: "Witch!"

In At'ar's early radiance, the rocky minarets outside the Mouth of the Abyss showed the hue of dried blood. The spires cast long, midnight-colored stripes over the tawny hollow, plunging the first battlefield of the previous night into an eerie contrast of murky shadow and fervid color. A pall of silvery smoke hung over the campfires Sa'ar's rearguard had kept burning all night, and the ghostly silhouettes of men and camels were just now taking on a more earthly form.

The Zhentarim had not returned during the night, and the asabis were still in the canyon. After Ruha's spell had knocked the reptilian mercenaries from the cliff walls, the Raz'hadi and Mahwa had fled the chasm together. Only a handful of warriors from each tribe had been required to stay behind to keep the enemy from escaping. With her brother-in-law and the Harper, Ruha sat in the middle of a circle formed by the sheikhs of the two victorious tribes and twenty of their blood-spattered warriors. Kadumi wore a bandage around his head, and the minor gashes on his arms and legs were still oozing a little blood. If Lander had not poured one of his healing potions down the boy's throat earlier, Ruha doubted that the youth would even be conscious.

Despite last night's triumph, a somber mood hung over the gathering. Sa'ar was conversing solemnly with his Raz'hadi counterpart, Sheikh Utaiba, regarding what should be done about Ruha and her companions. The warriors of both tribes sat without speaking, their eyes cast on the ground to avoid looking at the trio under discussion.

Ruha knew as well as the warriors did that when the sheikhs' finished their discussion, she would be banished from the Raz'hadi and the Mahwa. Last night, dozens of warriors had witnessed her use a spell to knock the asabis from the canyon walls. Though her action had saved the two tribes, when it came to magic, Bedine tradition was universally clear. Witches and sorcerers were to be outcasts.

The only question in Ruha's mind was whether or not Lander and Kadumi would be exiled with her. After all, her brother-in-law had been at the head of the column when it rode into the canyon, and the Harper had spearheaded the countercharge against the asabis. The widow thought that simple gratitude would dictate that their association with her be overlooked. For Kadumi's sake, she hoped the sheikhs would agree-though it might mean that she would be separated from the Harper, at least until he was ready to return to Sembia.

Sa'ar cleared his throat, indicating that he and Utaiba were ready to announce their decision. "Last night, our warriors killed five hundred Zhentarim and five hundred of their asabis," the sheikh began, wisely preceding what everyone knew would be a difficult decision with a positive statement.

Utaiba, a wiry man with a graying beard and piercing black eyes, nodded. "It was a great victory for our tribes, Sa'ar. Your warriors fought splendidly, and we Raz'hadi have reason to be glad they did."

The warriors remained silent, a formality Lander did not observe. "The Mahwa and the Raz'hadi fought like lions," he said, pausing to smile at the assembly of warriors. After allowing the warriors an opportunity to accept his praise, he continued, "Yet the Zhentarim still outnumber your warriors by ten-to-one."

"This is true," agreed Sa'ar, frowning at being drawn into a conversation when he had intended only to announce his decision. "But we lost less than two hundred warriors between both our tribes. It shall not be long before the odds are more to our liking."

Lander shook his head. "Sheikh, you know that I wish it were so, but I must speak my heart in this matter. Last night you caught the Zhentarim unprepared. They will be ready for you the next time, and they will have magic."

"What are you saying?" demanded Utaiba, squinting at Lander from beneath his coarse eyebrows. "Should we give them the run of the desert and stay out of the way? Is that what you would have us do?"

"No," Lander answered calmly, turning his one good eye to meet the sheikh's hard gaze. "I want you to drive them out of Anauroch. If you do not, more Zhentarim will follow these. Soon the sands will be crawling with black burnooses, and there will be no place left to graze your camels or fill your waterskins."