Jerdren had to shout at his brother to be heard. “Thinkthey’re trying to distract us?”

Blorys shook his head grimly, tucked the reins in his belt and drew back on his bowstring. “Trying to scare us into surrendering, morelike!”

Jerdren laughed at that. “Picked the wrong caravan then,didn’t they?”

His first arrow barely missed one of the horsemen, falling just short of the men on foot, who, for the moment, were staying put. One of the riders-a bull of a man with a wild black beard and long hair spilling from undera metal cap-shouted another order. The horsemen split, three to each side of theroad as their footmen launched a volley of arrows, then closed ranks again. One knocked Blorys back as it slammed into his shoulder, but it fell to the road, foiled by his hardened leather vest.

The riders stopped at a sign from black-beard-close enough tobe clearly heard but out of reach except for a very good, or very lucky, arrow shot.

The mercenary leader stood in his stirrups and shouted, “Giveup your wagons, you men, and we’ll spare your lives!”

Jerdren bared his teeth in a humorless grin as the footmen came up behind the riders, stopping several horse-lengths back. “Come and take’em, why don’t you?”

“Don’t be fools. There ain’t enough of you to even slow us!”

“Twelve men? Twenty, even?” Jerdren laughed. “Bad odds foryou, I’d say!”

He turned partway in the saddle and drew down on the nearest rider. The arrow went low and right, hitting the man’s upper arm with a metallicclank. The fellow snatched at the wobbling shaft and threw it aside.

“Armor!” Jerdren hissed at Blorys as the riders startedforward again.

The younger man nodded once, then loosed his own arrow. It hit metal and flew wide, but he had another already to the string. Jerdren drew a steadying breath and took quick aim. He might have time for a second shot before shifting to his sword.