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He'd had an important thought； a moment ago。 It was gone now。
But doubling back was the right decision； he was sure of it； much as it gnawed at him to retreat from Asharite scum。 If these outlaws were confident enough to have set a trap； it made no sense to ride into it； however strong his pany might be。 Pride had to be swallowed here。 For the moment。 Revenge； as his people said； was a wine to be slowly savored。
He heard horses approaching。 The outriders looked quickly past him。 Nino turned。 The two men he had assigned to cover their rear were galloping up。 They pulled their horses rearing to a halt before him。
〃My lord！ There is a pany of men behind us！ They have closed the south end of this valley！〃
〃My rampant one； my own king！ Take me！ I burn for you！〃
〃What is that accursed woman doing？〃 Nino snarled。
He fought to control himself。 He had to think； to be decisive； not angry； not distracted。 He looked at the outriders for a blank moment then turned back north to gaze towards the end of the valley。 There was a darkness there； where the hills came together in a long neck and the sunlight died。 An ambush ahead； and men now closing the space behind。 They would be pincered here if they waited。 If the enemy was in strength。 But how could they be in strength？ It made no sense！
〃How many back there？〃 he snapped over his shoulder to the second pair of scouts。
〃Hard to say； my lord。 A first group of twenty…five or so。 There seemed to be others behind them。〃
〃On foot？〃
〃Of course； my lord。 Outlaws would not have…〃
〃If I want opinions I will ask！〃
〃Yes； my lord！〃
〃Ask of me anything； oh my true king！ I am your slave。 I am naked； awaiting your mastery！ mand me to your will！〃
Cursing； Nino pushed a hand roughly through his hair。 They were bottled up here！ It was unbelievable。 How could there be so many bandits in this place？ He saw Edrique； with his five men； beginning to mount the slope to the east； after the wailing woman。 They would only be able to take the horses partway； then they'd have to go on foot。 She'd see them ing； all the way。
He made his decision。 It was a time for a leader's decisiveness。
〃Edrique！〃 he roared。 The captain turned his horse。 〃Get back here！〃
He waited； four outriders anxious…faced beside him； for his second…in…mand。 Edrique picked his way back down then galloped up。
〃Forget her！〃 Nino rasped。 〃We're going north。 There are men behind us now。 If there are outlaws at each end we push forward。 They will have balanced their forces。 No point going back now。 I have changed my mind。 I will not retreat before Asharite bandits。〃
Edrique smiled grimly。 〃Indeed no； my lord。 We shall teach them a lesson they will never forget。〃 He wheeled back to the pany； barking mands。
Nino clapped his helmet firmly on his head。 Edrique was good； no question about it。 His calm； sure manner gave confidence and support to his leader。 The men would see that； and respond to it。 It was a fine pany he had； superbly mounted； every man of them proud to have been chosen for this mission。 Whoever these Asharite scavengers might be； they would have cause to regret their presumption today。
For this provocation； Nino decided； it would be necessary to burn them。 Right here in the valley。 Let the screaming echo。 A message。 A warning。 Future panies ing south for the parias would thank him for it。
〃Nino； my shining one； it is your own Fruela！ I am dying for you！〃
The woman。 The woman would have to wait。 If she was burning and dying； well； there would be a flame for her as well； soon enough； and for whoever had put her up to this humiliating charade。
And so； focused in anger； did Nino di Carrera banish confusion and doubt。 He drew his sword。 His pany had already wheeled into position behind him。 He looked back； saw Edrique nod crisply； his own blade uplifted。
〃To Jalona's glory！〃 cried Nino then。 〃Ride now！ Ride； in the holy name of Jad！〃
They started north； moving quickly； but in tight formation； the mules with their gold still safely in the center of the pany。 They traversed the valley； shouting in battle fever now； in anticipation。 There was no fear。 They knew what they were and could do。 They rode through bright sunlight over frosted grass and came to the shadows where the hills closed in。 They thundered into the dark defile； screaming the god's name； one hundred brave； trained Horsemen of Jad。
Idar ibn Tarif； who had mand of the forty men on the western side of the gorge； had been swearing without surcease and with considerable inventiveness since the Jaddite advance scouts had been spotted above them on the slopes。 They had been shot at and briefly pursued； to no avail。
They had been discovered！ Their trap was exposed。 The long hunt was over。 Who would ever have imagined a Jaddite mander would be so timorous as to send scouts！ The man had a hundred Horsemen！ He was supposed to be arrogant； reckless。 In Ashar's star…bright name； what was he doing being so cautious？
Across the narrow； sharply angled canyon at the north end of the valley his brother and father were still waiting； oblivious to the disaster that had just taken place； readying their archers for a feathered volley of death against unsuspecting men。 Idar； sick at heart； had been about to slip across the shadowy ground to tell them about the scouts when he heard the woman's voice begin； up on the eastern ridges of the Emin ha'Nazar…the echoing valley where the stinking； dog…faced Horsemen had halted。
On this side of the defile beyond the valley the high voice could be clearly heard。 Idar was far from fluent in Esperanan； but he knew enough to be suddenly arrested in his purpose。 Wondering…and even amused in spite of the catastrophe that had befallen them…he decided to await events。
The Jaddites were going to double back。 It was evident to anyone with half a mind。 If they had spotted the ambush they would draw all the obvious conclusions。 They were swine and unbelievers； but they knew how to wage war。 They would circle back out of the Emin ha'Nazar and take the longer way around to the west。
And there was no other place of entrapment between here and the tagra lands that would allow eighty unevenly equipped men…a mix of bowmen； cut…throats； some riders； he and his brother and their notorious father…to have any hope of defeating so many soldiers。 Gold was worth a great deal of risk； and so was glory； but neither； in Idar's view； justified certain death。 He despised the Jaddites； but he was not so foolish as to underestimate how they could fight。 And his father had based his long career never giving battle save on ground of his own choosing。
It was over then； this uncharacteristic chance they had taken； so far north； so late in the year。 Well； it had always been that： a gamble。 They would wait for the Jaddites to clear the valley and head west。 Then they would start back south themselves and begin the long journey home。 If the season had not been so close to the winter rains and mud； they might have been able to take their time and find some solace in raiding through Ragosan lands along the way。
Solace； Idar thought glumly； was unlikely to be found before they got back to their own stone walls。 He wanted a drink right now； actually； but his father would forbid that。 Not for religious reasons of course； but as a mander on a raid。 A rule of forty years； that one。 Idar would have balked at the old man's strictures save for two things： he loved him； and he feared him more than anyone alive。
〃Look！〃 whispered one of the archers beside him。 〃In the name of Ashar's Paradise； look！〃
Idar looked。 He caught his breath。 They were ing。 The god had driven the Jaddites mad； or perhaps the woman's voice had done so。 Who knew what made men do such things as this？ What Idar did know was that he and his brother and father and their men were about to be in a battle such as they hadn't known in years。 Their ambush had been uncovered； and the Horsemen were still ing。
The Jaddites approached the defile； one hundred riders； with six mules laboring in their midst。 They were riding too fast。 They would be blind； Idar knew； the moment they entered the shadows where the steep slopes hid the sun。 They were making a terrible mistake。 It was time to make them pay for that。
His was one of the first arrows。 He launched another； and a third； then he started running and sliding down the slope to where Jaddites and their horses were screaming now in the pits that had been dug； hurled upon each other in a mangling of limbs； falling on the sharp spears planted in the cold ground for killing。
Fast as he moved； Idar saw that his father was ahead of him。
Jehane had been affronted at first by Rodrigo's suggestion； then amused； and finally inspired to inventiveness。 In the midst of the exercise she discovered that it was unexpectedly stimulating to be crying aloud in feverish； explicit desire for the whole of the valley below them to hear。
The two men beside her were nearly convulsed in silent hilarity as she offered increasingly flamboyant variations on the theme of her anguished physical yearning…as Queen Fruela of Jalona…for the golden…haired count who had e to claim the paras from Fibaz。 She had to concede that it was partly her pleasure at their helpless mirth； their unstinting approval of her performance； that led her on to wilder flights of suggestive fantasy。
They were high on the eastern slopes of the hills that ringed the valley bowl of Emin ha'Nazar； the well…known Place of Many Voices。 Well…known； that is； save to the Jaddites who had entered the valley this morning。 Even Rodrigo hadn't heard of the place before today； but ibn Khairan had not only known of it； he had anticipated that this might be the place where a trap would be laid for the gold of Fibaz。
The Emin ha'Nazar was known for more than echoes。 Among the ghostly voices said to resonate in the valley at night were those of men slain here in battles going back for centuries。
The first such encounter had involved Jaddites as well； in the great wave of the Khalifate's initial expansion； when the boundary between Ashar and Jad had been pushed as far north as it was ever to go。 Where it remained now； in fact； just south of the River Duric and the mountains that screened Jalona。
That savage long…ago campaign had begun…in the endless paradox of things…the centuries…long splendor of Al…Rassan。 A brilliant succession of khalifs in the growing Al…Fontina of Silvenes had chosen to name themselves for what they achieved in war： The Conqueror； The Destroyer； Sword of the Star…born； Scourge of the Unbelievers。
They had been those things； there was no hubris in the naming。 Those khalifs and their armies； following upon the first reckless； astonishingly successful thrust northward across the straits from the Majriti more than three hundred years ago； had carved and hewed a glorious realm in this peninsula； driving the Esperanans into the farthest north； raiding them twice a year for gold and grain and slaves； and for the sheer pleasure and great glory of doing so in Ashar's ever…bright name。
It had been called a Golden Age。
Jehane supposed that； as such things were measured； it had been。 For the Kindath； treading lightly at all times； the expanding world of the khalifs had offered a measure of peace and fragile security。 They paid the heretics' tax； as did the Jaddites who dwelt in Al…Rassan； they were to worship the god and his sisters in their fashion only behind closed doors； they were to wear blue and white clothing only； as stipulated in Ashar's Laws。 They were forbidden to ride horses； to have intimate congress with Believers； to build the roofs of their sanctuaries higher than any temple of the Asharites in the same city or town 。。。 there were rules and laws that enclosed them； but there was a life to be found； and the enforcement of laws varied widely through the passing centuries。
A Golden Age。 Now gone。 The moons waxed and the moons waned。 Silvenes was fallen； the petty…kings bristled and sparred against each other。 And now the Jaddites were ing south again； on the magnificent horses they bred in the north。 Valledo claimed tribute from Fezan