“Not much choice. The forest walls us in on both sides. We can’t escape into the woods unless we dismount,” Raphael observed.
“We can’t walk all the way east!” Eleázar said.
“You have another idea?”
“Outride them!” Eleázar said.
For the first time in quite a while, a trace of a smile stole across Percival’s lips. “Outride a company of Mongols?”
“We can do it,” Eleázar insisted, “if we gather some spares.”
“Spares,” Percival repeated.
Raphael, to this point, had been silent. He cleared his throat and glanced significantly at Cnán.
She was ready for it. Some part of her was already saying good riddance to these heedless adventurers. What was an adventure, anyway? To any normal person, a problem. A disaster. Only the rich and the foolish would actually seek one out. “I’m faster without you,” she said, as if agreeing. She dismounted and handed the reins to Eleázar. “A spare,” she explained.
“But, my lady—” said Percival.
She sneered at being called that. “I’ll cut through the woods on foot and reach Feronantus by morning. The rest of you, do as you will. If you lie low, they’ll probably pass you by. If they don’t kill Istvan, you can do it.”
“Kill one of our Order? Are you in command now?” Eleázar cried.
She ignored him—as did Percival. “It would be best if they learn nothing of Feronantus,” Percival said. “Killing Istvan may not be enough. Perhaps we here need to make a stand and die to save the rest.”
Cnán squinted up at the knight. Truly, he seemed happy to make it easy for his death to find him. Perhaps he was as crazy as Istvan. “If the Mongols pass,” Cnán said primly, “and there’s no fight, we can join up at the end of this tangle, beyond the farms. I’m pretty sure there’s a route directly east from there.”
“Hold up,” Raphael said, rising in his saddle. He pointed north. “More riders coming out of nowhere. Those damned reeds. They’re surrounding the farmstead on the other side of the swale. Nine, ten…and…another formation, rising up like the spawn of dragon’s teeth. A patrol. Breaking off and coming this way.”
A moment passed while they all absorbed that news.
“No,” Raphael said, “I’m wrong. They too are looking for a ford. Going to rejoin the big group on the hill.”
The others watched in silence as their doom closed in from two, perhaps three, sides.
Percival leaned over Cnán. “Go,” he said. “Go now. This will not get better.”
CHAPTER 10:
THE ARCHERY LESSON
Lian waited for Gansukh within the enveloping embrace of the willow. The tiny leaves didn’t hide her completely, but the drape of its boughs was enough to give her some semblance of security. Plus the shadows were getting longer… She sighed as she flicked tiny fallen leaves from her hair, regretting she had opted to wear it down. She’d told him to meet her again before the sun set, and now it was getting perilously close to slipping behind the bulk of the palace.
She wasn’t supposed to be here, not without an escort.
The garden still stank of blood. The gardeners were still working on a flowerbed when she had first arrived, and she had hurried past them, barely sparing them an imperious glance that would—hopefully—suggest they turn their eyes elsewhere. Also, she hadn’t wanted to look too closely at what they were doing.
Something had died in that flowerbed. She’d heard from one of the Chinese servants that the main course for the banquet had been shot just a few hours earlier. In this garden. It had died right here.
A momentary shudder ran through her frame. No better place to learn how to fight, she mused.
Lian had pressed the servant woman for details, and she had given a very satisfactory account. Everyone was talking about the young warrior and his bow. She hadn’t dared to ask the servant woman about Munokhoi’s reaction; while there would be satisfaction in hearing this tale, Lian knew what to expect: Munokhoi would be even more on his guard against this intruder from the Great Khan’s older brother. Her task would be even trickier now. Gansukh had been right this morning: she was afraid for him.
Lian sighed with relief as she spotted him, and she rustled the willow boughs to get his attention.
Gansukh approached and parted the boughs carefully. “Why are you hiding in there?” He cocked an eyebrow. “If you’re trying to look like a beautiful painting, don’t bother. I’m not that sophisticated.” He seemed more at ease, pleased with the day’s events.
“I don’t have free rein to walk the compound at night like you,” she snapped.
“Ah.” He looked over his shoulder and then stepped closer, letting the boughs cover him as well. “I suppose I should offer to protect you then…”