C. Cherryh - Fires of Azeroth

There was a flash of white in the woods; they rounded a curve in the trail and Morgaine drew up suddenly, for there stood two of the arrha, young women.

The arrha waved them past.

"No," Morgaine said. "You waste yourselves. Even the force of the jewels cannot hold back what is behind us."

"Obey her," Merir said. "Climb up with us. We have need of you."

It was Lellin and Sezar who took them up, being unarmed and least likely to involve them in fighting. The arrha took their hands and scrambled lightly to the rear of the saddles. Morgaine started off again, at reckless pace as they crossed the small clearing, quickly slowed by undergrowth as they veered aside from the aisle of stones and the dome.

"This way!" It was the only time that Vanye had ever heard an arrha speak; but the young qhalur woman behind Sezar pointed them another direction, and Morgaine reined instantly off upon that track.

Swiftly it became a broad way among the trees of an aged grove, cleared ground where their horses could find easy passage, without brush to hinder.

They ran then, weaving when they must, until the horses were blowing with the effort and the trees, darkening their way, grew wider spaced. The Shiua seemed now to have lost their trail. They walked for a time to rest the horses, ran again, slowed again, making what time they could without completely winding the horses.

And suddenly they burst through upon cleared ground, a vast open space, and Vanye forgot all their haste in that instant. Two hills upthrust, the farther of incredible steepness, although all the clearing else was naked and flat, hazy with distance and the westering sun. A vast hold sat atop that high place, dominating all the land round about, looking down on clearing and on forest, square, a cube such as the great holds of power tended to be.

Nehmin.

And before them on the flat of the vast clearing was mustered the host of Shiuan, the glitter of arms ascending the side of the rock of the fortress, shining motes, rare in the dark tide of Men, all misty with afternoon haze.

Morgaine had drawn rein yet within the cover of the woods. Dismay seldom touched her face, but it did now. The number of those about Nehmin seemed that of the stones at Narnside. They stretched as a gray surging mass across the floor of the clearing in the far distance, stretched up the farther hill like the waves of Shiuan's eroding seas beating at the rock, tendrils of humanity which straggled among the rough spires and wound constantly higher toward the stronghold.

"Liyo," Vanye said, "let us work round the side of this place. To be caught between that and what already pursues us… little appeals to me."

She reined Siptah about so that her back was to the clearing and her face toward the woods from which they had come. There was audible again the distant sound of pursuit. 'They have us between," she said. "There is ambush everywhere; they have come in by all three rivers. Days– days- before the arrhend can match this kind of force."

Merir's face was grim. "We will never match it We cannot fight but singly. In time, each will come, each fight."

"And singly die," Vanye said in despair. "That is madness, to go by twos against that force."

"Never all die," said Sharrn. "Not while Shathan stands. But it will take time to deal with that out there. The first to oppose them will surely die, ourselves surely among them… and thousands may die, in days after. But this is our land. We will not let it fall to the like of these."

"But Nehmin may fall," said Morgaine. "Enough force, enough weight of bodies and doors will yield and even the jewel-force cannot long stop them. Their ignorance-let loose in Nehmin-amid the powers it holds--no. No, we do not wait here for that to happen. Where, lord, is the access to Nehmin?"

"There are three hills, not apparent from this view: there is the Lesser Horn, there to the side of the greatest hill, a fortress over the road itself: gates within it face this way and the far side… that is the way up. Then the road winds high to the Dark Horn, which you cannot see from here, and then to the very doors of Nehmin. We cannot hope to reach more than this nearest and least, the White Hill, before they come on us."

"Come," she said. "At least we shall not be waiting here for them. We shall try. Better that then sitting still."

"They will know that horse of yours, even at distance," Roh said. "There is none such in their company, yours or Lord Merir's."

Morgaine shrugged. "Then they will know me," she said. There was distrust in her look suddenly, as if she had sudden reckoned that Roh, armed, was at her back in a situation where none could prevent him.

But the sound of pursuit was almost upon them, and she touched the spurs to Siptah and led them forward, circling within the fringe of trees, riding the bow of the clearing.

She meant a run with the White Hill between her and Nehmin, Vanye realized; it was what he would have done, running at the horde on the flat from an angle such that they had cover for at least a portion of their ride.

"They are on us!" Kessun cried; they looked back and the foremost of their pursuers had broken through, riders stringing out in wild disorder, cutting across the open to head them off while they still rode the arc.

But at the same moment Morgaine veered out into the open, and meant to lead them from under the face of that charge, riding for the White Hill.

"Go!" she shouted. "Lellin, Sezar, Merir, ride while you can. We will shake these from our heels and overtake you. The rest of you, stay by me."

Well-done, Vanye thought; the unarmed five of their party had cover enough in which to gain ground; the nine armed had cover in which to deal with these rash pursuers. He disdained the bow: he had no skill at firing from horseback. He was Nhi when he fought, and whipped out the Shiua longsword, at Morgaine's left. Perrin and Vis, Roh, Sharrn, Dev, Larrel and Kessun: their arrows flew and riders went down; and Morgaine's lesser weapon laced red fire across the front of the charge which met them. Horses and riders went down, screaming, and even so a handful broke through, demon-helms, their barbed lances lowered, with a straggling horde of marshlands foot panting behind.

The charge reached them: Vanye fell to the side Nhi-style, simply not there when the lance passed, and the good horse held steady as he came thrusting up again, blade aimed for that rider. The khal saw it coming, horrified, for the lance point was beyond and his sword inside the defense. Then his point drove into the undefended throat and the khal pitched over his horse's rump, carried on the force of it.

"Hail" he heard at his side, and there was Roh, longsword flashing through khalur defense-no plains-fighter, the Chya lord, but there was an empty saddle where there had been a khal about to skewer him.

Others came on them; one rider pitched from the saddle short of them, a red streak of fire for his undoing. Vanye trusted to Morgaine's aim and took the gift, aiming for the rider hard behind, whose half-helmed face registered horror to find an enemy on him before he expected and his own guard breached. Vanye cut him down and found himself and Roh enmeshed in marshlands rabble. That dissolved in terror at what fire Morgaine sent across their mass, cutting down men indiscriminately, so that dying fell on dead. Grass was burning. The trampling of feet put it out as the horde turned in panic. Arrhendur arrows and Morgaine's bolts pursued them without mercy, cutting down the hindmost in windrows of dead and dying.

Vanye wheeled to turn back, chanced to look on Roh's face, which was pale and grim and satisfied. And he turned farther and saw Larrel on the ground with Kessun bending over him. From the amount of blood that covered him and Kessun there was no hope he could live; a khalur lance had taken the young qhal in the belly.