'For we are but dust, and to dust we shall return.'

'We come into this world with nothing,'

'And must depart from it bearing the burden of the sins we have committed.'

'Forgive us those sins, Lord Hilio,'

'Forgive us our sins as we must forgive.'

Asayaga's voice trailed off into silence and again he bowed low, striking his forehead upon the ground. Then the chanting began again:

'Hear our cry from out of the wilderness, out of the strangeness of this world we call to thee,'

'For though we step across the eternity of the universe, still we are within thy sight and within thy hand.'

'Though lost in the wilderness, we shall not lose faith in thee.'

Asayaga stood up and turned to the smoking brazier. Reaching into his tunic he pulled out a small scroll of paper and reverently placed it onto the hot coals, so that the paper flared up.

'What's that?' Dennis asked.

Tinuva motioned him to silence.

'Receive our comrades who have fallen this year,' Asayaga said, bowing to the brazier. 'Gather them into thy gardens of paradise so that they shall know peace and comfort.'

'Names of the fallen from his company most likely,' Tinuva whispered. 'Last night it was a prayer for forgiveness. They believe the smoke carries the message to the heavens, and to their god.'

Asayaga hesitated for a moment, eyes darting over to Dennis and then he continued.

'What is he saying?' Dennis asked as the chant continued.

'I'm not sure if he wants you to know.'

'Tell me.'

'He said: "and our foes who fight us with honour, and whom we have slain, may they know peace in the realm of their gods."'

Dennis, startled, stared at Tinuva.

'It's what he said,' Gregory interjected.

Dennis said nothing. Asayaga caught his gaze for a brief instant but then turned away. In the shadows Dennis could see the Tsurani rising one by one to stand over the brazier and then a blade would flash across a finger and a hiss of steam would rise up from the blood-offering.

And so the Day of Atonement began, and more and yet more men of the Kingdom stood silent, watching, whispering comments as to what the Tsurani were doing, and what the chanting meant.

The early morning was cold as Richard trudged up the pass. His breath formed steam before his lips as he climbed up the path from the valley below. Eventually, he reached the hut which the guards used to warm themselves while they ate.

Hanson, Richard's companion, stamped his feet to get some life back in them, as Richard looked inside the hut. The fire was burning low, so Richard tossed a log onto it and poked it back to life.

Stepping out from the shelter of the hut which housed the watchers at the pass, he said, 'You wait here and warm up a little, and get the soup hot, while I go tell the others we're here.'

Hanson gave him no argument, and went inside while Richard went forward to relieve Luthar and Bewin, from their position on top of the cliff that overlooked the northern pass.

Both men were huddled up, their heavy capes over their shoulders, but they were alert, turning with drawn weapons at the sound of his approach over the crunchy snow.

'Anything?' Richard asked.

The two stood up, stretching, Bewin absently rubbing his shoulder which had given him trouble ever since a Tsurani had put a spear through it the year before.

'Silent except for the wolves,' Luthar said, yawning.

This was Richard's first time on watch in the mountains and though he would not admit it, he was excited by the prospect and responsibility it offered. Not a word had passed between him and Hartraft, except for orders and the usual chewing-outs since the day of Jurgen's death and he secretly hoped that this assignment of trust meant that somehow the commander was finally showing some signs of forgiveness.

The view from the cliff was magnificent, the mountain sweeping down across the open rocky slopes to the treeline more than a thousand feet below. Far beyond the trees were distant plains and in the still morning air he could see what appeared to be a herd of wild horses grazing. The next range of mountains, more than a dozen leagues away, stood out stark and clear, so close it seemed that he felt he could touch them.

All of it was snow-covered, the dawn light illuminating the mountain slope and ice-clad trees so that it seemed as if the gods had carpeted the world in diamonds and rubies.

'Food ready?' Corporal Bewin asked.

'Hanson's with me and has the pot of soup simmering.'

'I'd prefer some ale myself,' Luthar sighed.

'Well, our relief will be up tonight,' Richard answered.

'Damn Tsurani and their holy rantings. I should have been relieved last night.'

'They stood watch the night of Midwinter feast,' Richard offered.

'It wasn't my watch then damn them. I've been up here four days without a drink.'

'Stop your whining,' Bewin replied. 'It all works out. Let's go get warm.'

Luthar, grumbling, carefully worked his way down the rocky outcropping to the hut hidden at the edge of the treeline behind them.

'Keep a sharp watch, son,' Bewin said.

Richard smiled. 'I will.'

'I'll send Hanson up at noon to relieve you. Remember lad, stay low, don't move around a lot, and keep alert. Keep watching along the flank of the mountains as well as the plains below. They could try to work a few scouts over the tops of the peaks to swing in behind us."

'Yes, corporal.'

'It's hard to tell but out there, below the treeline, it looks like something beat down a trail, it could just be those wild horses, but I want you to keep a close watch on it. If you hear anything strange, see birds kicking up out of the forest, or if something just doesn't feel right, you come back and get me.'

'Yes, corporal.'

'Fine, son. Now off for some soup and sleep for me.'

Richard smiled. There was almost a touch of warmth in Bewin's voice and it did his heart good. Bewin had been the only one to take him under his wing and show him some of the tricks of survival after Jurgen's death: the rest of the company had pretty well cut him off.

Settling down into the cleft between two boulders Richard sat on the furs vacated by Bewin and Luthar, then pulled his white cloak up over his shoulders and head. From a hundred feet away he would be all but invisible and after several minutes he actually felt comfortable, as well as excited by the responsibility given to him. All the men of Hartraft's command, and for that matter the Tsurani as well, were now depending on him and he swelled with a touch of pride at the thought of it, standing watch while his comrades slept, or celebrated their ritual.

In the weeks they had been together in the valley he had become fascinated by the Tsurani. Having been assigned to Brother Corwin, he had spent hours helping to nurse the four wounded Tsurani and three Kingdom soldiers who had survived the bitter march to the valley. One from each group had died, but the boy he had argued about saving had actually managed to live, his leg now almost healed, and though Osami would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, at least he was alive.

The two had struggled to teach each other their tongues, and though the conversation carried little beyond food, the mastery of the Tsurani game of dice, and clumsy, laughing comments about some of the serving-girls, he felt he could call Osami a friend.

When the talk in the barracks at night turned to whispered conversations about what was to be done regarding the Tsurani once they left the valley, he felt confused. Some of the men talked coldly of simply slaughtering the lot once they were free and clear, doing it by surprise in the night. Others declared that given all that happened perhaps an open and fair fight was best after all, and that maybe it could even be settled by a duel between Asayaga and Dennis, and then the two groups could go their separate ways. And finally there were a few who said the whole thing was crazy and once out of the valley they should just back away from each other and call it a draw.