The wood would mask the dust the company raised. And those hunters out there would have to worry about one another.

They would not be friends.

Else examined the bow. "This is horse people work. They must be sending scouts out to see what comes after Lucidia."

"They've never been defeated, Captain," Bone said. "Not in twenty years." "They haven't met the Sha-lug." That might be an interesting encounter. The horse barbarians of the steppe were cruel, fearless, and disciplined. Their numbers were supposed to be inexhaustible but that could not be true. They made the best of what they had. They were, first and foremost, nomadic herdsmen.

The Sha-lug knew no life but war and preparation for war. They purchased boy children in slave markets everywhere, though mainly in Qasr al-Zed. Those boys grew up with weapons in their hands.

The best and strongest became Sha-lug, the slaves who were masters of the sprawling, wealthy kingdom of Dreanger, the heart of the Kaifate of al-Minphet.

The Kaif of al-Minphet was Karim Kaseem al-Bakr, puppet of Gordimer the Lion, the Supreme Marshal of All Sha-lug, before whom the Enemies of God Wet Themselves in Terror, and so forth, and so forth.

Unlike most Sha-lug, Else was not impressed by Gordimer. He suspected the Lion was less noble than he pretended. Gordimer kept handing him these deadly chores, verging on the impossible. Like Gordimer hoped Else would not return.

In minutes the company was moving toward the coast, where friendly ships would be sure to see them.

Else, al-Azer, and Bone stayed behind.

Bone asked, "You know we're looking at the Plain of Judgment?"

Else grunted noncommittally. He knew without knowing the significance. Everything in the Holy Lands had historical and religious meaning to someone. Every crag, every dry wash, every wood, and most of all, every mystic well was a thread in a vast and ancient tapestry. Bone or Az would explain.