His brother merely nodded.

Perhaps another hour of steady riding, with no sign of pursuit or another ambush, and the lead men relaxed a little, slowing the pace to give the horses some rest.

“You owe me a pair of silver pence, Brother,” Jerdren finallysaid. “Remember? You bet me we’d never see a fight the whole way to the Keep,with all the men we hired.”

“Hah,” the younger man replied sourly. “You owe me asilver. For throwing yourself into the thick of things back there and trying to get yourself killed.”

Jerdren eyed him sidelong.

“I keep telling you, Jers, I like being a youngerbrother. I’ve gotten used to it, nearly thirty years’ worth, and I don’t mind ifyou leave me behind when we’re tottering, white-bearded old men, but-”

“What? You think I was in any danger from those footsore…those hacks?”

“They had the advantage of numbers and a sneak attack, Jers.Some of them were pretty good-how do you think I got cut?” The cut on his facestill seeped a little blood, but it wasn’t deep or very long.

Jerdren grinned. “All right, a few of ’em. For the most part,they were underfed, scrawny brutes, probably not much good at hitting a standing target and lousy at moving ones.”

“So what? Men like that hunt in packs, Jers! To make up forthe lack of skill! If there had been another twenty waiting out there-”

“Well, there weren’t,” Jerdren broke in. He glanced sidelongat his brother and grinned. “Besides, you were close enough, guarding my back,right?”

It was an old joke, but Blorys wasn’t smiling.

“You know not to count on that, Jers. I had my hands full-weall did.” He touched the drying cut, winced.