C. Cherryh - Fires of Azeroth

Even as he watched, Kessun sprang up with bow in hand and sent three shafts in succession after the retreating Shiua. Whether they hit he did not see; the khemeis' face ran with tears.

"Horses!" Morgaine shouted. "Khemeis- get to horse! Your lord needs you!"

Kessun hesitated, his young face twisted with grief and indecision. Then Sharrn ordered him the same, and he sprang to the saddle, leaving his arrhen among the Shiua dead. The shock had not yet hit Kessun. Vanye hurt for him, and remembered at the same time that they had two horseless members of their company… one, now: Perrin had caught Larrel's.

And Roh came up leading one of the Shiua mounts, even as they started to move. They struck a gallop and held it, and Kessun rode ever and again looking back.

The White Hill lay before them, and their party neared it Morgaine gave Siptah his head and the gray stretched out and ran with a speed which none of the arrhendim horses could match. Vanye dropped back in despair, but he looked on that craggy hill which rose so strangely out of the flat and of a sudden chill hit him as he considered how it seemed to stand sentinel to this approach.

Morgaine wanted the others stopped short of arrowflight of that hill; Merir's group was nearly there, moving at the best speed they could make with two horses carrying double, but she and the gray horse closed on them rapidly, the while they behind labored to stay with her. And she had their attention; the five waited at the last, seeing her desperate to overtake them, and in moments they all closed ranks, out of breath.

"Larrel," Merir mourned, seeing who it was who had fallen. Vanye recalled what Merir had said of a qhal dying young, and grieved for that; but he grieved more for the stricken khemeis who sat his horse with his hands braced on the saddle and his head bowed in tears.

"Mount up," Morgaine bade the arrha shortly; the young women scrambled uncertainly to the ground and Sezar helped them to the horses they were offered. Their handling of the reins was that of folk utterly unused to horses.

"The horses will stay with the group," Roh told them. "Keep the reins in your hands and do not pull back on them. Hold to the saddle if you think you will fall."

The arrha were frankly terrified. They nodded understanding, and held on at once when they started to move, the horses hardly more than loping. Vanye looked on the women and cursed, showed them how to turn and how to stop, thinking with horror of what must befall the helpless creatures when they rode full tilt into the Shiua horde. It was all there was time to give them. He shook his head at Roh, and received back a grim look.

"Larrel was only the first," Roh said; and that took no prophecy, for the arrhendim were not armed or armored for hand-to-hand. Only he, Roh, Morgaine could fight that sort of battle. Vanye rode closer to Morgaine, taking his place by habit as much as clear thought; and it was impossible now to avoid the sight that faced them. Gray indistinct lines stretched across their whole horizon, the great rock of Nehmin behind. Their coming was not yet remarked or not yet known for attack: they might as well have been Shiua riders for all the main forces knew. The skirmish had not been seen because of the hill… and the approach of thirteen riders to that countless host could hardly seem threatening.

"Look!" cried one of the arrha, gazing back, for there was a signal fire lit on the White Hill, a plume of smoke trailing out on the wind.

And that was enough.

The sound that went up from the Shiua horde was like that of the waves of the sea, and their number-the number was unimaginable even to a man who had seen forces in the field and knew how to estimate them: all that the camp on Azeroth had spilled forth, the refuse and scourings of a drowning world. Khalur riders poured out toward them, a troop of demon-helms, a cold sheen of metal and a forest of lances in the fading daylight

Then Vanye doubted their faintest hope of survival, for even if the marshlanders would flee and confound themselves by their own numbers, the Shiua riders would not: the khal knew what they attacked, had made up their minds, and came at Morgaine for hate. A hundred riders, two hundred, three hundred deep and twice that wide; a shout went up, drowned in the thunder of hooves.

And of a sudden Merir drew even with them in the lead, the white mare easily matching strides with Siptah and the bay. "Fall behind," the old lord urged them. "Fall back. Here the arrha and I am worth something, if anywhere."

Morgaine began to do so, falling back more and more, though Vanye shuddered at the sight of the old lord out to the fore of them, and the frail white-robed arrha joining him in the face of those lances. Merir and his companions spread wide, and the horses shied with the arrha as Gate-force suddenly shimmered about them; one lost her seat and fell, a stunning blow; but the one on the horse which had been Larrel's rode still with Merir.

The downed arrha scrambled for her feet, scraped and shaken, childlike in her size and her helplessness. Vanye rode down on her and in a desperate maneuver leaned from the saddle and seized the back of the clothing as they seized the prize in riders' games in Kursh .. . dragged the bemused girl belly-down across his saddle and kept going. Morgaine cursed him bitterly for his madness, and he flung her back a look of anguish.

"Stay with me," Morgaine shouted at him. "Throw her off if you must; stay with me."

"Hold on," Vanye begged of the arrha; he could not do more for her. His horse was already laboring with that added burden. But the frail child struggled to rise, pounding her taut fist on his leg, until at last he realized that she yet held the jewel and wished him to know it. She was sore hurt; he thrust his sword into sheath and hauled her up with one hand by her robes, knowing what pain the saddle must be giving her. Thin arms went about his neck, held desperately: she dragged at one side and he leaned to the other. She flung a leg across his, relying on his balance with more courage than he had expected. The Shathana horse held steady with this shifting, staggered only a little, and when she had gained a hold he suddenly felt the queasiness of Gate-force about them: the arrha had unleashed the power of her jewel.

He knew then what she wanted of him, and used the spurs, aimed himself forward with all the speed the horse had left… defying Morgaine's direct order for one of a few times in their partnership. He pulled out to the side at the interval of Merir and the other arrha, hearing someone coming hard yet farther over; and it was, as he had thought… Morgaine.

He gasped and the horse staggered as they joined that bridge of force, but the little arrha held tightly and he blinked his eyes clear as the serried line of lances came at them, near and distinct, like a forest horizontal.

It was madness. They could not hit that mass and live.

Senses denied it, even while the terror of Gate-force ripped the air along the line they held. He thought of Changeling added to that, and that frightened him the more; but Morgaine did not draw it. The red fire of her lesser weapon laced across the charge, merciless to horse and rider. Animals went down in a line; those behind tumbled after in a screaming tangle; and others went round them, some falling, but not enough. The lances came into their very faces.

Vanye leaned aside as the Gate-force hit the rank like a scythe, tumbling horses and riders in the area of crossing forces; but the few riders nearest stayed ahorse, unaffected, flashing past most too dazed to strike well. Vanye could but lean and evade. A blade rang on his helm and shoulder as he bowed over the saddle and shielded the arrha as best he could. The horse stumbled badly, recovered by a valiant effort, and they rode over corpses and the unconscious; he was hit more than once, and then they broke into the clear, the horses running. Morgaine drew ahead of him, Siptah taking free rein for a space, with the marshlanders ahead of her. The rabble tried to hold their ground; a hedge of braced spears barred her way. Then Changeling flashed into the open, a force that hit his nerves and sent the horse staggering even at this distance. It stopped; the arrha had shielded her own. For an instant he thought himself clear.