They pretend that they search for you, but none wish to find you," Barachuk said with a wry grin. He and Tsolona had -Iv. been coming out of the village every night since Brynn's abrupt departure, knowing she would return. Now, a week after the fight to liberate Runtly, they had been rewarded.

"You killed a Chezhou-Lei warrior," Tsolona added, but her tone, unlike that of her husband, was not mirthful.

"And a Yatol. The Order of Chez-hou will seek you forever after, and the Yatols will not readily accept the loss of one of their own."

"One of their own," Brynn spat in reply. ?Daek was To-gai-ru, yet he turned against our ways, our customs.

How deep is the rot that has affected our land?"

"Not as deep as those like Daek would wish," said Barachuk.

"To our people in the village, you are a hero, Brynn Dharielle," Tsolona added. ?Our hearts bleed for the horses, trapped in barns and paddocks. To see a To-gai-ru warrior and her horse so defeating the designs of the cursed Wraps brings joy to our hearts, reminds us of who we once were - "And who we shall be again," Brynn promised, hardly able to voice the words, for Tsolona's reference to the Behrenese as the ?Wraps" had spurred many distant memories within the woman. It was a derogatory term the To-gai-ru had long used against their desert-dwelling enemies, a reference to the Behrenese custom of wrapping their heads in great turbans. Some To-gai-ru wore turbans, as well, but none as elaborate in design as those fan-cied by the wealthier Behrenese. It wasn't just the word, but the manner in which Tsolona had spoken it that so inspired the memories in Brynn, for at that moment, the old woman had sounded so much to Brynn like her own mother!

"The Wraps are many, and are mighty, and their wealth has brought them the services of To-gai-ru like Daek,"

Barachuk warned. ?Your victory was but minor, and will be no lasting victory at all if you are hunted down e Order of Chezhou."

"Let them come," Brynn said grimly. ?I will line the steppes with the Oled heads of Chezhou-Lei dog warriors."

P ?You cannot fight a war alone."

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Brvnn paused and considered Barachuk carefully, recognizing from his ,ne that he was deflecting her declaration and not trying to halt it alto- ther She studied him hard, and he turned from her gaze to look over at his wife, who gave a nod.

"You have heard of Ashwarawu?" Barachuk asked.

Brvnn wore a curious expression. She understood the word, but as a word and not as anyone's name, as Barachuk was apparently asking. ?He who kills without mercy?"

"Ashwarawu gathers warriors as he roams from village to village," Tsolona explained. ?The Behrenese fear him."

"He would welcome a fighter of your skills," said Barachuk. ?Already, word of your deeds here are spreading across the windblown steppes."

"You speak as if an invitation has been extended." Brynn's voice re-flected her caution. She had come into To-gai hoping that some sort of underground movement was already afoot, but she didn't dare allow herself too much hope at that time. For she knew nothing, really, of this leader, Ashwarawu, and nothing of the force he was assembling.

"Ashwarawu's ears are large, my young friend, and his invitation is open to any To-gai-ru who will raise sword against the hated Wraps!" Tsolona de-clared, raising her voice so loudly that Barachuk grabbed her and "sshh'd" her, fearing that the guards of the village would hear.

"We know where he is," the old man whispered to Brynn. ?Or we know, at least, where you can go to be found by Ashwarawu."

Barachuk then rattled off a series of questions to Brynn, trying to figure out how much she knew of the region and the familiar landmarks. He frowned with every shake of Brynn's head, though, for the young ranger had no points of reference at all south of the mountains. It was just too long ago.

Finally, Barachuk just stepped up to her and physically turned her about, facing her south by southeast.

"Three days," he explained. ?Two if your horse is swift. You will find an ancient riverbed - we have not yet seen enough snow to cover its unmistakable designs. Follow the riverbed east. You will cross through several ravines, and in one, you will see to the south a mountain face that seems the profile of an old man."

Barachuk's Mountain," Brynn remarked, drawing a smile from the old man and a cackle from Tsolona.

A fine name, though I doubt any but you will call it that!" Barachuk replied. ?But there, in that valley, Ashwarawu will find you."

"Or I will find him," said Brynn, and she grinned, not expecting the two to take her seriously. They didn't understand her knowledge of tracking, of reading the slightest signs of passage. She had no doubts that if she got any-where near to Ashwarawu's forces, she would find them with ease.

She took the supplies from the old couple, gave each a warm and sincere hug, then gathered up Runtly and began the long trek to the south.

"How did you find us?" the fierce To-gai-ru warrior demanded, scowling down at the seemingly unremarkable man from horseback.

"Perhaps you are not as well hidden as you believe," the man in the tan tunic and sash of a Jhesta Tu mystic replied, and he gave a little shrug, as if it did not matter.

"I ask you only one more time!"

The mystic shrugged, and the rider growled and seemed as if he was about to run the mystic down, but then came another voice, one that qui-eted the rider.

"How he found us is not as important as why he found us," said Ash-warawu, walking his strong black-and-white pinto to the forefront. ?What do the Jhesta Tu see in our struggles that would so interest you, mystic?"

"I was To-gai-ru before I became Jhesta Tu," Pagonel replied.

"And that means you are loyal to our cause?"

Another shrug, pointedly noncommittal.

"And what of the Jhesta Tu who claim Behren as their heritage?" Ash-warawu asked. ?That would include most of your order, would it not? Are they now riding hard from the Mountains of Fire to pledge allegiance to the Chezru Chieftain?"

Pagonel gave a small laugh at that, and took note that Ashwarawu seemed to relax, just a bit.

"Hardly that," he said. ?Likely they would be killed before they ever neared Jacintha. Our order and the priests of Yatol hold little agreement."

The volatile man at Ashwarawu's side started as if he meant to say some-thing, but the warrior leader held up his hand to silence him. ?Allies against a common enemy? ?

"The Jhesta Tu do not name the Yatols as enemies," Pagonel replied. ?Though neither would we deign to name them as friends. We orbit differ-ent realms, to the satisfaction of both."

"Yet you are here."

The simple statement gave Pagonel pause, for in truth the mystic, so fresh from enlightenment, still had not sorted out why he had come to To-gai, and why he had sought out Ashwarawu and his fierce band. All along the path of his travels, once he had hit the midpoint of the steppes, he had heard tales of Ashwarawu and his gang, of vicious retributive strikes against Behrenese outposters. Pagonel had learned why this fierce young man  he was surprised at how young Ashwarawu really was! - had earned a title of someone who kills without mercy."

The mystic would be lying, to himself as well as to others, if he did not A 't that he was intrigued by Ashwarawu and the renegade warrior band. ' 'H* there was more to his journey to find Ashwarawu than mere intrigue, "Why did you find me, mystic?" Ashwarawu pressed. ?I have no need to wait how long have I heard stories of the Jhesta Tu witches. Some sorcery rought you to me, I do not doubt. The question I must answer is whether 3r not that sorcery is being used to the benefit of the Wraps. Are you a spy? Do you seek to lead the Wraps to me, telling them also the strength of my forces?"

"No to both," Pagonel answered simply and without hesitation. ?I have come to To-gai to learn."

Ashwarawu's eyes opened wide at that surprising proclamation. ?What is there to learn, mystic? How to fight? How to die?"

"Or perhaps, how to live."

The young Ashwarawu rocked back a bit on his horse at the simple re-sponse and spent a long while studying the mystic, head to toe.

"You have come to learn," he said slowly, and he seemed to be measuring Pagonel with each passing syllable. ?To learn which side you must choose?"

"I did not know that the Jhesta Tu were involved with the struggle be-tween Behren and To-gai."

"You said that you were To-gai-ru!"

"I once was, and perhaps will yet be again," Pagonel answered. ?I do not know. For now, I am Jhesta Tu, and nothing more, and I have come to watch and to learn. And nothing more."

The man sitting beside Ashwarawu spat upon the ground with obvious contempt. ?Are we to provide entertainment, then?" he asked his leader.

But it was obvious to Pagonel that his words had intrigued Ashwarawu enough to push them past the point of such simple questions. The fierce leader continued to stare at Pagonel, trying to gain some measure, perhaps, or perhaps trying to weigh the potential good that could come from this un-expected meeting against the potential risks.

Ashwarawu was indeed leaning toward the possible benefits, Pagonel knew. How much stronger might his army become if the Jhesta Tu mystics were to side with him? For though Pagonel was likely the first Jhesta Tu Ashwarawu had ever seen, the legend of the warrior mystics from the Moun-tains of Fire was surely well-known through both lands, Behren and To-gai. And that legend, Pagonel also understood, had very likely become greatly inflated with each retelling.

You are another mouth in search of food," Ashwarawu said at length.

I need no supplies, but will find my own."

"And enough to feed some of my warriors, as well."

"Agreed."

And so on that cold winter day, nearing the end of God's Year 840, the Jhesta Tu master joined the band of a young outlaw, one who was gaining the eyes and ears of Yatol Grysh in Dharyan, and even of Chezru Chieftain Yakim Douan in faraway Jacintha.

Ashwarawu had no idea of what it all meant, but he remained thrilled at the prospects of enlisting the Jhesta Tu in his cause.

Pagonel had no idea of what it all meant, but that quiet voice within hirn understood that joining up with Ashwarawu's band, even as merely a spec-tator, would help him more quickly answer the many questions that had nagged at him since his vision after enlightenment had set him on the road to To-gai.

The wind-driven snow rode more horizontal than vertical, stinging Brynn and Runtly, forcing both to squint and often turn their heads. The tough pony trudged along, ears flat, but otherwise uncomplaining.

Brynn wasn't worried. These stinging ice and snowstorms were common-place on the steppes and rarely amounted to any deep accumulation.

The woman was growing frustrated, though, for she had been in the val-ley described by Barachuk and Tsolona for several days, with no sign of Ashwarawu and his band, no sign of any recent passage at all. She was anx-ious to get on with this part of her winding road, for she believed that this turn might lead her to her ultimate goal.

She knew that she wasn't going to track Ashwarawu, or anyone else, at that time, though; and so she was taking Runtly along the northern ridge of the hills, looking for some overhang or shallow cave where they could find shelter.

The wind was howling about her, but Brynn felt very quiet, falling very far within herself. She thought again of those she had left behind, of Belli'mar Juraviel and Cazzira, of Lady Dasslerond and the distant land of Andur'Blough Inninness.

Mostly of Belli'mar Juraviel.

Brynn remembered all the stories the unusual elf had told her about his previous protege, the famous Nightbird. She shivered, and not from the cold, when she recalled Juraviel's story of his encounter with the demon, Bestesbulzibar, how Lady Dasslerond had come to his rescue, using her magic to take Juraviel and those humans in his charge - and the demon dactyl! - back to Andur'Blough Inninness, where her magic was strongest, so that she could battle the great demon. That fight had left the encroach-ing rot in the elven valley.

Brynn sighed quietly to herself as she considered the implications of that demon stain. Because of that, Aydrian had been taken in by Lady Dasslerond, who had some mysterious plan to use him to battle the stain.Of that Dasslerond's interest in Brynn had become something more 'he usual elf-ranger relationship.

Thinking that her people might have ert their fair valley, Dasslerond had determined that Brynn would 'open the road south by liberating the To-gai-ru.

It all tied together in such a strange and unexpected way.

Brynn held no illusions, though. She was not there for the sake of Lady Dasslerond. No, she was there for the good of the To-gai-ru. If Dasslerond d the elves benefited from her actions taken for the gain of her own peo-pk, then all the better.

And she would take those actions, would tree lo-gai, the young woman believed. She just wished that Belli'mar Juraviel was there to help her along her road, to counsel her and guide her, to tell her when she was acting fool-ishly and when she was following the right fork in the path.

How she missed him! Both as mentor and friend!

Lost in the memories, Brynn did not notice Runtly's ears coming up sud-denly, nor even the little nicker the pony offered, in obvious surprise.

The form came out of the snowy haze in a wild rush, charging right beside the woman, club swinging to knock her from her mount.

Purely on instinct and reflex, Brynn ducked to the side and down and kicked a heel into Runtly's flank, and the strong pony leaped away. The at-tacker turned to follow, though, and Brynn soon understood that he was not alone.

She brought Runtly into a flat-out gallop, cutting down to the center of the valley, trying to find more maneuvering room away from boxing walls. Riders rose up out of the white-out beside her, all with weapons raised.

Brynn resisted the urge to draw out her sword and instead focused on cutting Runtly into tight turns, kicking him into short bursts of speed, then pulling up fast and changing directions. For these were To-gai-ru warriors attacking her, and not Behrenese, and though their weapons were no less dangerous, Brynn had no desire to kill one of her own.

Of course, the fact that they were To-gai-ru, and on horseback, made them all the harder to shake.

Runtly turned a sharp right, slicing inside the angle of a rider trying to cut Brynn off. The To-gai-ru warrior launched a wild swing at her, his staff coming up far short, but Brynn leaned out and caught the end of it, then quickly turned Runtly back to the left so that she could pull the staff in closer and secure her seat.

f he horses passed and Brynn had the stronger seat, and the To-gai-ru warrior tumbled down from his horse.

He let go of his club as he fell, and Brynn put it up over her head and gave a great ?whoop!"

She brought it around in a circle, then down hard to the side, deflecting the attack of another passing rider, then pulled it in and thrust it back out, catching the man under the arm as he passed and finding enough of a hook there to dislodge him, too, from his seat.

Brynn and Runtly charged straight ahead, directly into the blinding snow Two large forms appeared before them, blocking the path, but the woman and her pony cut a deft turn.

Right at a tumble of waist-high boulders.

Her strong legs locking on the horse, Brynn went into a half seat and Runtly responded with a great leap, clearing the first boulder, then landing smoothly and launching again after a single stride to clear the second rock. Two strides later, the pony went over the third and largest rock.

Brynn heard pursuit from all around her, but she was smiling, exhila-rated, feeling the wondrous interplay of great muscles beneath her.

Rider and horse had become as one, and a series of turns and sudden ac-celerations had Brynn weaving through the ranks of her pursuers, her staff working furiously to take one, and then another, to the ground.

But then she had to pull up short, for a standing line of dark riders ap-peared before her, and as she turned her head side to side, she saw that oth-ers were filling in about her. At her command, Runtly reared and went right around on his hind legs.

But there, too, behind her, loomed a line of grim-faced riders.

With a growl of defiance, Brynn threw down the staff and pulled forth her sword, and with a thought, set the blade aflame, challenging any and all to approach.

But none did. They sat solemn and stoic, patiently waiting.

And then, after Brynn had turned Runtly about several times, a large man on a black-and-white pinto appeared in the middle of one line, walking slowly and deliberately toward her. He had no weapon drawn, but still seemed to Brynn to be the most imposing and dangerous of the bunch!

He walked his horse right up before Runtly, staring at Brynn unblinkingly.

"Ashwarawu," the woman said, and she was indeed surprised. Not be-cause this was the legendary warrior sitting astride his horse before her, but merely because he was so young! He couldn't even be her age, and she hadn't seen twenty summers as yet!

He was tall and strong-featured, with a wide face and a square jaw and penetrating light gray eyes - made all the more remarkable because of his dark complexion and black hair. His shoulders were wide, as well, a girth exaggerated by the layers of furs that he wore as armor.

His expression didn't change when Brynn spoke his name, and he seemed aloof to the woman, as if he had no doubts that she would know who he was. After a long moment, he held up one huge hand, an unthreat-ening gesture.

"You are far from any village, woman."

"I am where I meant to be."

The man cocked his eyebrows, smiling at her confident response. ?You ride well."

"I am To-gai-ru," Brynn answered. ?It is expected of me."

Ashwarawu smiled and nodded his approval. knew that the display that she had just put on had impressed all ad witnessed it, particularly the few warriors who had found the mis-ne to cross her path. Given that, her matter-of-fact attitude about her ? skill seemed to impress Ashwarawu even more. r Just as she had hoped.

'?'Who are you, and why have you come? the leader asked.

"I am Brynn Dharielle," she answered loudly, wanting all about her to hear ?I have no home, and was a wanderer until very recently, when I hap-,ened upon a village controlled by a despised Yatol."

"You fled the Yatol?"

"I killed the Yatol, and his Chezhou-Lei lackey beside him," Brynn an-swered. ?And so again, I have no home."

"And others directed you to me," Ashwarawu reasoned, fighting hard, obviously, to keep his expression and voice calm, though those about were murmuring with excitement and disbelief that this young and small warrior had defeated a Chezhou-Lei! To say nothing of the fact that through some magic they did not know, she had just set her sword aflame!

"It seemed a logical road, I suppose," the woman answered.

Ashwarawu spent a long while studying her then, his eyes roaming over her, over her horse, out to her fabulous, still-burning weapon. ?You are To-gai-ru," he said at last. ?We will not turn you out in the winter."

Brynn let her sword's fire burn out and slid the weapon away.

"But neither will you enjoy any treatment of privilege!" Ashwarawu roared suddenly. ?You will work for your food and will serve as you are told to serve!"

Brynn nodded, expecting nothing more.

"And I will seek to find out the truth of your words, Brynn Dharielle," the fierce leader promised. ?If I find that you have spoken falsely to im-press, then know that you have failed. If you have spoken falsely to deceive, to gain advantage for our enemies, then know that a most unpleasant death awaits you."

"And if I have spoken truly?" Brynn asked slyly.

Then you are welcome as one of my warriors," Ashwarawu answered without hesitation. ?Nothing more, nothing less."

Before Brynn could say another word, the leader spun his horse and walked away, passing through the line, which collected into formation be-hind him.

Brynn waited as the rest of the force walked past her, then took her place at the end of the line, melting into the mountains with the rest of her new family.




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