We crossed the creek into the wood, walking our mounts behind Sindhu, who had scouted till he knew every leaf and twig of the surrounding terrain. He led us along a meandering game trail which paralleled the creek going westward. I wondered what had become of the game. We hadn’t seen anything bigger than a squirrel. A few native deer might have eased the food problem, though neither Gunni nor Shadar touch meat.

It was a long walk. My companions grumbled and bickered.

The watching presence centered on a grove on a knoll whence it would be possible to observe events in our camp. I’d lapsed. I’d been thinking too far ahead. If I’d had the sense of a goose I’d have had a squad posted there. The outlying pickets were too scattered to spot everything moving in the area, even if people weren’t sneaking around. Fugitives slipped through all the time. They left their traces.

I had a good idea what I’d find on that knoll. Somebody from up north who’d heard rumors and had gotten worried that I might be trouble. I meant to be a lot, for the Shadowmasters and anybody who got between us.

We crossed the creek a few miles downstream, out of sight of the knoll, moved back to the east, and discovered that there was no way to approach the grove unseen the last third of a mile. I told the men, “All we can do is ride straight at it. Let’s do it without getting in a hurry. Maybe they won’t run till we’re so close they can’t get away.”

I didn’t know if they could control themselves. The excitement had them again. They were pumped up, scared and eager.

“Let’s go.”

We’d covered half the open ground when the watchers flushed like quail. “Shadar,” somebody noted.

Yes. Mounted Shadar, in uniform, cavalry equipped. “Jahamaraj Jah’s men!” I snapped.

The men cursed. Even those who were Shadar.

Jah was the leading Shadar priest in Taglios. Croaker’s doing. Jah’s concession to his debt hadn’t lasted through the fighting at Dejagore. He and his cavalry had abandoned the field while the outcome was in question. Most of the men had seen them run, or had heard. I’d been pushing the idea that the battle would’ve been ours had Jah stood his ground.

It could be true. Jah had contributed nothing when a feather’s weight might have tilted the balance.

I thought he’d run because he’d suffered an opportunistic flash. He’d intuited that the battle would go poorly and had decided to beat everybody home. He’d play a strong hand there because he’d be the only man with a military force-however inept-to back him up.

He deserved some special thought now.

I didn’t have to order a chase. There were five Shadar. Their flight was proof they were blackhearts. The men rode with blood in their eyes. Unfortunately, the Shadar were better riders.

I did want to talk to them. I urged my stallion to his best pace and closed up fast.

No everyday mount stood a chance against him.

The Shadar hit the north road. As I nosed up on the most laggardly the leaders swept over the crest. And collided with riders headed south.

Horses shied. Men yelled. Riders came unhorsed. I circled a Shadar who regained his feet and tried to run. He’d lost his helmet. I grabbed him by the hair, ran him fifty yards before turning to examine the victims of the collision.

Well. Swan, Mather, and Blade. And that sneaking twit of a hedge wizard, Smoke. What now?

Mather, Smoke, and Blade had kept their seats. Swan was on the ground, groaning and swearing. He got up, swore some more, kicked a fallen Shadar, looked around for his horse.

Smoke was rattled right down to his ankles. He had no color left, was whispering some sort of prayer.

Mather and Blade ignored Swan’s histrionics. I presumed that meant he wasn’t hurt.

My captive tried to get away. I ran him a few yards, let him loose when the horse was moving faster than he could keep up. He flung forward, slid on his face, stopped at Swan’s feet. Swan sat down on him. I asked Mather, “What are you doing here?” He was the only one of the bunch who made straight sense.

“The Radisha sent us. Wants to know what’s happening down here. There have been rumors. Some say you’re alive, some say dead.”

“I’m not yet. Not quite.”

My men arrived. “Ghopal. Hakim. Take these two somewhere and ask them why they were snooping.” They were Narayan’s cronies, the only two who could ride. He’d probably sent them along to keep an eye on things.

Swan got up and leaned against Mather’s leg. “You don’t have to twist no arms to find that out. Been some wild rumors lately. You’ve got Jah jumpy as a cat in a kennel.”

“Oh?”

“Things were going his way. He got back from Dejagore before anybody else. Only bad luck put the Radisha at Ghoja before him. She closed the ford. He still figured he had the world by the oysters, then here comes word somebody’s kicked the feathers off a gang of the Shadowmasters’ boys. Right behind comes a rumor that it was you. You not being dead don’t look so good for Jah’s ambitions. The Company picked up a lot of respect putting it together so fast. Made all those priests look like conniving, selfish jerks.”

Blade chuckled.

Mather said, “You collected some of that respect, being a woman and having everybody know how much you had to do with it falling together.” He looked me in the eye. “But being a woman is going to be a handicap now.”

“I’ve been on my own before, Mather.” And I hadn’t been happy a moment. But happiness is a fleeting creature. It’s no birthright. Not anything I expect but something I accept when I stumble into it. Meantime, power will do nicely. “And Jah has liabilities. He’s vulnerable. I have a thousand men over there. Every one will tell you Jah ran out on us at Dejagore. We would’ve won if it wasn’t for him.”

Swan surprised me. “We watched the battle. We saw. So did a lot of men who’ve come in. Even some of Jah’s own men admit it.”

“A liability,” Mather said. “But it’s not going to undo him.”

Ghopal reminded me that three Shadar had escaped. True. And they would fly straight to their master, who was sure to make a move. But I doubted he’d do it right away. He was a vacillator. He’d worry a while before committing himself.

“Back to camp. Swan. Come. Ghopal. Bring the prisoners.” I rode ahead as hard as the stallion could carry me.

“Sound the alarm and the recall,” I told the soldiers at the north gate. “Narayan! Ram!”

They came running. Narayan gasped, “What is it, Mistress?”

“We’re pulling out. Right now. Forced march. Get the men ready. Let the horses carry most of the load. Make sure each man carries food. We won’t stop for meals. Move.”

They scooted.

It was midafternoon. Ghoja was forty miles away, a ten-hour jaunt if everyone kept the pace. If the night wasn’t too dark. It shouldn’t be if the sky stayed clear. There’d be a quarter moon rising an hour after sunset. Not a lot of light, but maybe enough.

The horns that we’d taken from the Shadowmasters’ cavalry kept sounding recall. The pickets came running. The gang I’d left up the road arrived. Swan and Mather were impressed by the chaos.

Mather said, “You’ve taught well.”

“I think so.”

“What’re you fixing to do?” Swan asked.

“Take charge at Ghoja before Jah can react.”

He groaned.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Only that we just got finished riding down here. Forty more miles and I won’t have a spine left.”

“So walk. Sindhu! Come here.” I took the wide man aside, gave him instructions. He left smiling, gathered two dozen men with strong stomachs, mostly his cronies, and crossed the creek. I sent another man to round up the poles we used for practice pikes and spears.

Swan asked, “You mind if we get something to eat?”

“Help yourself. Then find me. I want to talk to you.”