THE KING BEYOND THE GATE by David A. Gemmell

Subodai shrugged. ‘Could be a lot less,’ he said.

Tenaka remounted, casting about for a likely ambush site. He led them up into the hills to a low outcropping of rock which jutted over the trail like an outstretched fist. Here the trail curved to the left. Tenaka stood up in the saddle and leapt to the rock. Startled, Subodai slid forward and took up the reins.

‘Ride forward to that dark hill, then slowly circle until you come back here,’ Tenaka told him.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Renya.

‘I’m going to get a pony for my bondsman,’ said Tenaka, grinning.

‘Come woman!’ snapped Subodai and cantered off in the lead. Renya and Tenaka exchanged glances.

‘I don’t think I shall enjoy being the docile woman of the Steppes,’ she whispered.

‘I said as much,’ he reminded her with a smile.

She nodded and heeled her horse after Subodai.

Tenaka lay flat on the rock, watching the horsemen approach; they were some eight minutes behind Subodai. At close range Tenaka studied the riders; there were nine of them, wearing the goatskin-hide jerkins of the Steppes rider and rounded leather helms fringed with fur. Their faces were flat and sallow, their eyes black as night and coldly cruel. Each carried a lance, and swords and knives were strapped to their belts. Tenaka watched them come, waiting for the back marker.

They thundered up the narrow trail, slowing as they came to the curve by the rock. As they passed Tenaka slid out, drawing up his legs under him; then, as the last rider cantered below him, he dropped like a stone to hammer his booted feet into the man’s face. He catapulted from the saddle. Tenaka hit the ground, rolled, came upright and lunged for the pony’s rein. The beast stood still, nostrils quivering with shock. Tenaka patted him gently and then led him to the fallen warrior. The man was dead and Tenaka stripped off his jerkin, pulling it over his own. Then he took the man’s helm and lance and, vaulting to the saddle, set off after the others.

The trail wound on, veering left and right, and the riders became less bunched. Tenaka cantered close to the man in front, just before another bend.

‘Hola!’ he called. ‘Wait!’ The man drew back on the reins as his comrades moved out of sight.

‘What is it?’ enquired the rider. Tenaka drew up alongside him, pointing up in the air. As the man glanced up, so Tenaka’s fist thudded into his neck and without a sound he fell from the saddle. Up ahead came the sound of triumphant yells. Tenaka cursed and heeled his mount into a gallop, rounding the bend to see Subodai and Renya facing the seven riders, swords in hand.

Tenaka hit their line like a thunderbolt, his lance punching a rider from the saddle. Then his sword was out and a second man fell screaming.

Subodai bellowed a war-cry and kicked his mount forward; blocking a wild cut, he swept down his sword, cleaving his opponent’s collar-bone. The man grunted, but he was game and attacked once more. Subodai ducked as the tribesman’s sword slashed through the air, then gutted the man expertly.

Two of the riders now charged at Renya, determined to gain some spoils. However, they were met by a feral snarl as she leapt from the saddle at the first, bearing man and pony to the ground. Her dagger sliced his throat so fast that he felt no pain and could not understand his growing weakness. Renya came up quickly, letting forth the blood-curdling shriek that had terrified the outlaws back in Drenai. The ponies reared in terror and her nearest opponent dropped his lance and grabbed the reins with both hands. Renya leapt, hammering a fist to his temple; he flew from the saddle, struggling to rise, then slumped to the ground unconscious.

The remaining two tribesmen disengaged and raced from the battleground as Subodai cantered to Tenaka.

‘Your woman . . .’ he whispered, tapping his temple. ‘She is crazy as a moon-dog!’

‘I like them crazy,’ said Tenaka.

‘You move well, Bladedancer! You are more Nadir than Drenai, I think.’