But Blorys was off his horse, reins in one hand and bloody sword in the other, as he nudged each of the three men with a booted foot. The hatchet-faced man groaned faintly. The others were silent and rolled limply away from the pressure.

A sudden stillness reigned once more, except for the wheezing of the wounded man at Blorys’ feet, the faint sobbing of someone back among thecarts, and a woman’s frightened weeping coming from the lead wagon. Jerdren bitback exasperation. I warned that hide merchant not to bring his lady, didn’t I?

He walked back to the lead wagon, his bay gelding now quiet and trailing after him.

A keen look around assured him that the road, at least, was clear. There had been fairly heavy fighting along the north side of the caravan, and he could see two fallen men beyond the third wagon. Two of the hired men were injured, but neither of them too badly. One sat pale and quiet as one of his fellows bandaged an oozing cut on his brow. The second tended to his own forearm, a bloody bandit’s arrow at his side. A third man lay still and palebeside the middle cart.

“Fell from his horse,” one of his comrades told Jerdren.“That one there-” he pointed to a dead bandit some paces away-“busted his headwith a stone. Last thing he ever did.” Brief silence, which the man broke. “Wetook two of ’em prisoner, but one’s not likely to live. Bad cut in the leg.”

“I’ll deal with them shortly. You did well, you men,” Jerdrensaid. He raised his voice a little as he turned toward the lead wagon. “Lhodis!Hide merchant! How’re your people there?”

Blorys came up, leading his mare, a dripping sword in his free hand. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek. His eyes were dark with anger. Jerdren held up a hand as a tremulous voice came from the lead wagon.