Traitor's Moon

well enough until just past midday, when she struck a stretch of road that wended through a deep cut. Rounding a bend, she found herself faced with a pack of armed riders less than a hundred yards away, coming on at a canter. There was nowhere to go but back, and that was bound to attract notice.
    At least they wore the colors of Akhendi, she noted with relief. Keeping to the side of the road, she continued on at a steady pace, praying that they’d go single file and keep their distance.
    She was nearly past when one of them suddenly reached out and snatched the sen’gai from her head. Her red hair tumbled down over her shoulders, damning as any uniform.
    â€œIt’s the Skalan!” the man shouted. Dropping the sen’gai, he drew his sword and raised it to strike.
    Ducking low over her horse’s neck, Beka grasped its mane and kicked hard. The mare bolted forward, then reared as two horsemen angled to block her escape.
    Hands snatched at her tunic. For an instant all she could see was a circle of leering faces and glinting steel. Another man struck at her with a cudgel, bruising her arm through her mail shirt.
    Suddenly a fierce yell sounded from somewhere overhead, followed by the sound of falling rock. Still wheeling her horse, Beka caught a glimpse of another horseman plunging down the steep slope to her right. Then he was among the Akhendi, laying about with the flat of his sword.
    â€œGo!” he shouted, urging his horse forward to block one of her attackers. “Break out, damn it. Ride!”
    Beka knew that voice. “Nyal?”
    â€œ
Go!”
    Looking around, she spotted a young rider who’d been startled byNyal’s sudden appearance. Screaming an Urgazhi war cry, she barreled into him, knocking him off his horse as she surged past to the open road beyond. It was the wrong direction, but it would have to do for now.
    She heard another wild whoop behind her, then the sound of pursuit. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Nyal galloping after her with the Akhendi close behind.
    He caught up with her and thrust something at her: her sword, hilt first. She wrenched it free, letting the scabbard fall away, and slapped the flat of the blade across her mount’s rump, urging it on.
    â€œThis way,” Nyal shouted, pointing to a side road ahead.
    Caught up in the moment, she followed without question.
    â€œIt’s no use. They’re still with us!” she cried, looking back to see the Akhendi still in full cry behind them. “We can’t outrun them. Turn and fight! There are only five of them now.”
    â€œBeka, no!” Nyal cried, but she was already slowing.
    Turning her horse, she let out another yell and galloped back, sword held high. As she’d expected, the sudden turnabout startled her pursuers. Three veered off, but the others charged her. The road was narrow here, so she aimed her mount between them. Ducking the leader’s swing, she came up in time to catch the second a blow to the head with her hilt. He toppled off his horse and she rode on toward the remaining three. One turned tail and ran, but the other two closed in on her.
    Fighting on horseback without a saddle or stirrups to brace against was dangerous at best. Instead, she slid off the far side, using the horse as a momentary shield, and ducked under its neck to slash at the hocks of her closest opponent’s mount. She managed to nick it, and the animal reared, throwing the rider. Then she was turning to block a blow from his companion, who’d outflanked her. Caught between two horses, she threw herself under the belly of her attacker’s mount and rolled to her feet on the other side. She slashed him across the thigh, then smacked his horse on the rump, sending it hurtling into the man she’d knocked from the saddle.
    Another horseman bore down on her, and she braced for an attack, but it was Nyal, yelling for her to get up behind him. Grabbing his outstretched hand, she thrust her foot over his in the stirrup and let him haul her up behind his saddle. He wheeled about and took off at a gallop, leaving their wounded ambushers in the dust.
    Beka had no choice but to wrap her free arm around his waist, clinging to him as they galloped further down the overgrown track. Some part of her mind registered how good he felt, pressed againsther, but she pushed the thought away angrily, recalling instead the coldness in his eyes when he’d captured her.
    They