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But a minute later, when the man, cursing, rode closer while trying to force his riders to push straight in, Bragi got his horse by throwing a spear. The animal dropped to its haunches, dumping its rider over its rump.
"Haaken! Grab that bastard!"
Despite furiously raining blows and pounding hooves, Haaken snaked out, grabbed a handful of grey hair, and hurled himself back. He threw the groggy enemy captain at Bragi.
Ragnarson was not gentle with him either. He hoisted the captive overhead so his followers could see that he had been taken.
The Guildsmen cheered.
Bragi did not get the results he wanted. The enemy did not give up. But many of them did back off to talk it over, giving the Guildsmen a chance to reform.
Reskird said, "Those guys aren't going to turn tail just because you got their Number One."
"It was worth a shot. Maybe I shouldn't have. They might take time to think out how to get rid of us easier." Bragi glanced down at the grey-haired man. He had become docile. His lips moved, but no sound came forth. "Hey. He's praying."
"Wouldn't you? Hell, I'd be praying now if I knew a god I could trust."
"Thought you was high on the Grey Walker because he saved your ass when your ship got rammed."
"Yeah? Look what he got me into."
"Bragi," Haaken called. "Come here."
Ragnarson pushed to his brother's side. "What?"
"Out there. More of them." Haaken pointed with his chin.
The horsemen were barely discernable. They were not on the road, where dust would have given them away earlier.
There were two columns, splitting from one. They seemed intent on surrounding the hill.
"Damn! And we could've been out of this now if those chicken-shit Royalists had helped. They could've kept that bunch from getting behind us."
"Here they come again!" Kildragon yelled.
Bragi sighed and forced his weary muscles to lift sword and shield once more. This was it. The end. And he didn't even know what he was dying for, unless it were simply brotherhood and the honor of the Guild.
Well, Ragnar had always said you should make your death a moment to remember. And if you couldn't be remembered by your friends, you should leave your enemies with tales they could tell their grandchildren during the long, cold winter nights.
The charge came hard. It should have spelled the end of Sanguinet's Company. But it began weakening almost immediately. Even as he shouted about getting the horses, Bragi sensed the uncertainty of the foe. In minutes their attack became half-hearted. Soon afterward they began showing their backs.
"What the hell?" Bragi asked the air. "Haaken. They're ru
Reskird suggested, "Those guys down there must be on our side."
At that most of the Guildsmen surrendered to exhaustion and collapsed on their shields. They did not wait for confirmation. But Bragi dragged himself to the top of the rock outcrop. "Hey, Reskird! For once in your miserable life you guessed right. Whoo-ee! Look at them bastards ride!"
The rumbling of hooves and wailing, hair-raising Royalist warcries swept around both sides of the hill.
"What god did you pick this time, Reskird?" Bragi demanded headily. "We owe him a whole flock of sheep. Wow! I don't think any of them will get away." He eased back down and stretched himself on his shield. "Ah. This sure is nice."
And Haaken, dropping beside him, gripping his upper arm, said, "We made it. I don't believe it. We made it." He was snaking so much he could do nothing but hang on.
"Just lay back and look at that sky," Bragi told him. "Look at those clouds. Aren't they the most beautiful things you ever saw?"
Haaken did as he was told. "Yeah. Yeah."
Bragi let everybody enjoy a few minutes of unexpected life. Then he forced himself to his feet and said, "All right, if you're not wounded, let's start picking up the pieces. We've got a lot of brothers hurt and scattered all over hell. Try to get everybody to gather around here. I'm going to find the Captain and see what he wants we should do. Haaken, pick a couple guys with strong stomachs and finish off their wounded."
He found his captain a few minutes later. He was still kneeling over Sanguinet's mutilated body when Reskird shouted, "Hey! Bragi! Come here!"
Ragnarson rose, looked, saw Reskird facing a group of Royalist horsemen. He gathered his sword and shield and trudged back. "Sanguinet is dead," he said in Trolledyngjan. "So are Tomas and Klaus. Who's going to take over?" He surveyed the horsemen. "Well I'll be damned!"
"That's one I paid you back, Bragi." Haroun gri
Reskird whispered, "Isn't that that Haroun guy from when we was commissioned at el Aswad?"
"Yeah," Bragi said. "We were handling them, Haroun."
"What are you doing here?"
"High Crag detached us to Altea. To give the locals a little backbone."
An older Royalist asked, "Your men did this?" He indicated the carnage.
"They wouldn't leave us alone," Bragi replied, making a sour joke of it. "We would've cleaned up on them good if your boys hadn't chickened out on us."
Haroun said, "Pardon me?"
Bragi explained that a group of Royalists had left the company to its fate. Haroun's face darkened.
"We met some of them. We thought they were messengers. I'll find their captain. I'll show him this. Then I'll hang him."
Haaken called, "You want I should croak the old guy too, Bragi?"
"No. Give him to these guys. They might get something out of him."
Haaken pulled their captive out of the rocks, where he had concealed himself.
"Wahla!" several horsemen cried.
"Karim!" Haroun shouted. "Ah!" He began laughing. His followers joined in, pummeling one another like joyous children.
"What is it?" Bragi asked.
"You've caught Karim. The great Karim, who is second to the Scourge of God himself. There will be rejoicing when the world hears of this. And many tears will be shed in the councils of the usurper. Oh, how the Scourge of God will rage! My friend, you have given us our first great victory. My spirit soars! I feel the tide turning! The Fates no longer vie against us. But what became of the northern traitors who rode with him?"
"I don't know. I wish I did. I'd like to get my hands on them. They caused this. This Karim didn't want to attack."
"You recognized them?"
"Yes. We thought they were your people at first. Then this Karim killed our Lieutenant."
"They wanted no witnesses to their treachery. They were going to meet with Nassef. To betray the northern host. We've been chasing them more than a week."
"You caught Karim. Take him if you want. Will you excuse me? Many of my brothers are injured."
Haroun gri
"Lord, you know I do. All the torments of all the hundreds who died at Sebil el Selib."
Karim sprang at Haaken, seized his sword. He ran himself through before he could be stopped.
"A brave man for a former bandit," Haroun observed.
Because none of the surviving noncoms seemed inclined, Bragi began putting the company together again. One hundred twelve Guildsmen had survived. Fifty-three, miraculously, had come through unscathed.
"We'll shed tears for these for a long time," Bragi told Haaken. He and the young king stood facing the long rank of graves the Royalists had helped dig. "There were some great men among them."
Haroun nodded. He knew what it meant to lose old comrades.