She stiffened, every nerve in her body alert. What sound was that? The next moment the door came crashing inward and it seemed all at once that the room was full of … of women? Jalak woke with a bellow, snatching up his sword where it lay ready, night and day, to his hand; he yelled for the guards … a yell that went unanswered. Already on his feet, he yelled again, naked, leaping at the first who came against him; they crowded him against the wall, and Rohana, seeing through her own eyes now-although she shared Melora’s thought, Where are the guards? – saw the Amazons force him against the wall, saw him disappear behind what looked like a wall of women, slashing, darting in with their knives; saw the long ripping cut with which Kindra darted in, slashed, the tendons at the back of his knee. He fell, howling, struggling. Danette, wide-eyed, kneeling upright on the bed, shrieked.
“Garris! Garris! Get his sword! They’re only women….”
“Silence that bitch,” said Kindra, and Camilla’s rough hands muffled Danette’s shrieks with a pillow. Garris sat upright, looking down at the writhing, howling Jalak with an unholy joy. . Rohana caught up a furred cloak from the foot of the bed, wrapped it over Melora’s scanty nightgown. “Come-quickly!”
Guided between her kinswoman and the Amazon leader, Melora stumbled into the hall; her foot slipped in the blood of the guards who had been killed there. Are they all dead? All? Even Jalak’s howls had stopped. Dead, or unconscious from loss of blood?
She saw through the still-open door that Garris had caught up Jalak’s sword; Nira whirled, her own sword at the ready, but Garris rushed past them, not even looking at her, disappearing down the hallway, with- evidently-no thought in mind but his own escape.
Rohana hurried Melora along, out into the silent garden. It was so silent that it took her breath away; fountains splashed, trees rustled undisturbed in the wind, no sound or light to show that somewhere inside there in the Great House, eight or ten of Jalak’s fighting men and perhaps Jalak himself lay dead.
None but Jalak himself had had opportunity to strike a single return stroke; but that single slash had gone to Nira’s thigh and she limped, leaning heavily on Camilla’s arm. Lori came and bent beside her, roughly wadding the wound with her kerchief, wrapping it hastily with the belt of her tunic. Leeanne came out of the darkness, carrying in her arms a small form in a long nightgown, barefoot. She set the little girl on her feet, and in the dim light Rohana caught a glimpse of a small, surprised, sleepy face.
“Mother?”
“It’s all right, my darling, they are my kinswomen and our friends,” Melora said in a singing voice; she stumbled, and Kindra put a hand under her elbow.
“Can you walk, Lady? If not, we can carry you somehow-”
“I can walk.” But Melora stumbled again and put out her hand to clutch at Rohana’s arm, thinking, For the first time in a dozen years I am outside that wall with unbound hands. Walk? I could run… I could fly. Hurrying along between them, stumbling, she lost track of where her steps were taking her. Anywhere. Anywhere away from here. Like Garris…Poor little creature, I hope they do not hunt him down for Jalak’s murder….
She felt the knives of pain in her side and back, felt the weight of her unborn child dragging at her, not caring. Free. I am free. I could die now, happy. But I must not die and delay them….
The deserved marketplace was a silent wilderness of empty stalls, deserted booths. Rima and Devra came out of the dark, near where the horses waited. “The gates are clear,” Rima said, with a suggestive gesture-a finger drawn across her throat.
“Come, then. Leave everything but your own saddlebags and food for travel,” Kindra said, leading Melora to a horse with a lady’s saddle. “Before you mount, domna, get into these clothes; they may not fit well, but they will be better for riding than that nightgown.”
Melora felt Rohana slip her gown over her head, under cover of the darkness; help her into the long, loose trousers, tie them around her waist; slip a fur-lined tunic over her head. The faint smell in their folds made her want to weep with recognition and thankfulness: the spices and incense used to sweeten the air in every home hi the Domains. She caught back a sob, letting