Dragonfly

pen smelt of unwashed bodies and human waste. Those who had already been here a week

scratched blank-eyed at their scabbed knees, only rousing when the food was poured into the

trough at the entrance. Flies buzzed, settling in clouds on mouths and eyelids.

No longer able to bear his thoughts about Tashi, Ramil turned his mind to his father. Lagan

would weep to see his son here. But Ramil knew that many more Gerfalians would be joining

him in the pens very soon now that their mission to bring the Blue Crescent navy into the war

had ended in disaster.

I've failed them, he thought. My father trusted me to do what was in the best interests of my

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people, but I failed.

And what has my life been about really? Ramil wondered. I've reacted to events, never initiated

any action I can be proud of -- except the escape.

He thought about what he had told Tashi when she had been at her lowest ebb. He had said to

her that

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maybe the Goddess had put her there because She wanted her to follow a strange path. They

had been glib words from someone who had not known her depth of suffering. Ramil knew that

his own faith was a sorry affair compared to Tashi's--a lazy belief in some benign Father God, a

creator who had always been on excel ent terms with the ac Burinholts like a jol y old patron.

There was little for him to hold on to now that he had reached his own nadir.

So do I give up? he asked himself. Not listen to my own advice to trust that there is a plan?

If there is a God behind all this, it looks like a pretty rubbish plan to me, his cynical side chipped in.

But what would Tashi want me to do?

No sooner had he framed the question than he knew the answer. She would want him to trust

his God; she would expect him to do his duty. He could not honor her by dying here in the filth

with a whimper.

If this is where I am supposed to be right now, Ramil thought, then I have to find a way to serve

the interests of my people. I don't stop being a prince just because I'm in chains.

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Ramil sat up, the light of battle re-ignited in his eyes.

"Right, Gordoc, Melletin," he said, "we've got work to do."

The river washed Tashi up on a sandbank two miles down from where she had jumped. She was

barely

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alive, her spirit wandering between this world and the Peaceful Gardens of the Mother. But it

appeared the Goddess did not want her company just yet: She sent Tashi back so that the girl

returned to consciousness, coughing and vomiting river water as she lay on her side.

Tashi stayed where she was for a long time, hearing the water chatter by over the stones, and

the night chorus of crickets squeak in the long grass.

She didn't want to think because thinking meant admitting that she'd lost Ramil and her other

friends. She'd left them with the slavers and there was nothing she could do for them--nothing

she could do for herself.

To punish her body for being alive, she sat upright. Her hair hung over her face in pale threads,

the dye washed from it after her dousing in the river.

It's stringy, she thought, and burst into tears. She hugged her body, missing the warmth of Ramil

who had held her to him only hours ago. She touched her lips, trying to recall the feel of his

mouth on hers, but she was cold and bruised, her face swelling out of all recognition since her

passage through the rapids.

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Long slow minutes of darkness passed. Then a horse neighed from the bank. Tashi looked up

and saw Thunder standing there, clearly wondering what she was doing sitting in the wet. She

thought for one wild moment of hope that he might have Ramil on his back, but he was alone,

the picket rope trailing from his bridle. Even so, she was relieved to see a friendly face, if not a

human one. Tashi crawled out of the shallows

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and pulled herself onto the bank. Teeth gently pulled her up by the back of her tattered tunic.

"Thunder!" she said, falling against him when she reached the top. "Thank you."

Her shaking hands explored his back. She touched a saddle and bags, then a bedding roll. Ramil

had not taken them off, which was unexpected because he usually saw to the horse before

himself. She then remembered that he had promised he'd have her supper waiting for her when

she returned from her wash. He must have rushed to start cooking, for once leaving the horse

till later. She took off the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then opened the bags.

They were full of Ramil's gear. The familiar smell of his shirts was heart-rending and wonderful

at the same time.

She slipped out of her own wet things and dressed herself in his spare clothes, closing her eyes

and trying to imagine that he was with her.

"Well, boy, what next?" she asked the horse.

Thunder nudged her with his soft nose, inviting her to mount.

"I'm not as good a rider as Ramil. You'll have to do all the work," she said wearily, hauling herself into the saddle. The slaver had said the river would mash her and he had been right. Every limb

cried out with pain as she moved.

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Thunder trotted smoothly back up the road.

"Which way?" she wondered.

Thunder made up her mind for her. He headed south, smelling the horse pastures on the

desert's edge.

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Tashi slumped over his neck, letting him take her where he wanted.

The miles passed by but Tashi did not notice. She only woke up when she hit the ground. In her

exhaustion, she had fallen asleep and rolled off Thunder's back. He nuzzled her in puzzlement,

wondering what his rider was doing on the road. Groaning, she stood up, her whole body

shaking.

"I've got to sleep," she explained. "This will do as well as anywhere else."

She led him off the side of the track, down a dry ditch and behind a tumbled wall. It was shelter

of a sort, and she could go no further. Thunder stood guard while the pale human slept, her

sleep broken with bad dreams. He heard his master's name on her lips and knew she was

missing him too. He scared off the wild dog that came sniffing around and stamped on a snake

that slithered out of the wall when the sun hit the stones. Still the human foal slept.

The sun was high in the sky when Tashi opened her eyes, though it had turned into a cloudy day

and a damp warm rain was falling. If anything she felt worse now that the numbness had worn

off. Her body was battered and bruised, her spirit too. Only determination kept her moving.

Swathing herself in Ramil's spare cloak, she returned to the road and doggedly set off once

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more.

Over the next couple of days she saw few people, and those she did see galloped past. Tashi did

not want to risk speaking to anyone. The landscape was

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changing. The meadows and fields were giving way to treeless plains. The only things that

flourished here were tough grasses and low scrubby bushes spiked with thorns. Even the road

seemed to peter out, becoming little more than a hint of a track through the waving grass.

Thunder raised his head and let out a whi

darted forward, lengthening his stride, feeling the little human tighten her grip with her knees.

His dark mane rippled behind him, as did hers, streaming gold.

They abandoned themselves to the pleasure of the race, with no idea but to run until their

breath failed them. Tashi had tears on her cheeks as she remembered Ramil shouting to her on