Blade was moved, but tried to strike a light note. «I suppose the woodcutters were the most determined about flying with burning fuses?»

«Of course,» said Daimarz. «We have our pride.»

«You should have some sense as well,» said Haima. «We can't let the woodcutters kill themselves off proving their courage. It will be years before the Jaghdi give us enough amulets so that we can do without the woodcutters and the work they do.»

«Years?» snorted Daimarz. «Never, more likely.»

Haima shook her head. «I think perhaps the Jaghdi will see reason after their defeat. Not at once, perhaps, but before you and I are too old to get some good from it. I have always felt that when the killer plants are gone, the Jaghdi and the Elstani will start growing toward each other.»

«Like a rosebush and a killer plant!» growled Daimarz, shaking his head.

Blade was glad to see that at least Haima realized what might come out of this war for civilization in this Dimension. He wondered if he should tell her about Sikkurad and Jollya, then decided against it. There was no point in raising false hopes by revealing that the Jahdi keeper and his daughter were sympathetic to the Elstani cause. Besides, there was no telling what had happened to Sikkurad and Jollya. Blade just hoped that the two of them had heeded his advice and kept their mouths shut.

Haima and Daimarz seemed to be settling down for a long argument, so Blade turned away to watch the gliding practice. Two sites were in use, one a hillside for beginners, the other a vertical cliff for the more advanced pilots. The cliff was about three hundred feet high, more than enough to make carelessness fatal.

Eight gliders went off the top of the cliff while Blade was walking toward it. Some of them made rough landings, and Blade sighed wearily. The Elstani were much more interested in how to start a flight than in how to finish it. They also refused to wear heavy protective clothing, saying that the lighter their clothing, the more Living Fire they could carry on the day of battle.

A bunch of damned kamikaze pilots! thought Blade with a mixture of admiration and exasperation.

As he stopped at the foot of the cliff, he saw a ninth glider go off the top. The wing was bright blue, and he knew who the pilot was. Kima, Borokku's sister, had managed to persuade the weavers to use a dyed cloth for her Rogallo wing. There was enough of it left over to make her an extremely brief bikini that she used as her flying clothes. She said she liked the feeling of the wind on her bare skin.

Kima went over the edge at a sharper angle than Blade liked to see. She was a good pilot, but he didn't entirely trust the light cloth she'd used for her wing. She seemed to be straightening out, then suddenly her wing ripped across. She seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as if the cry of horror from the spectators on the ground was holding her up. Then her wing tipped up on one side and plummeted, flapping wildly.

Blade was the first to reach Kima after she landed. She was lying on her side, one arm moving feebly but her legs horribly twisted and one side of her skull caved in. Blade knelt beside her and rested his hand on her unhurt cheek until she died. As he rose, Borokku ran up.

«She's gone before us?»

Blade sighed. «If she could only have fallen in battle…» He knelt and drew a fragment of Kima's glider over her face.

Someone pushed through the circle of people standing around Blade, Borokku, and the dead woman. Blade saw that he wore the sleeveless tunic and boots of a message runner. The Elstani didn't use riding animals, but their strong-legged messengers could relay word from one end of Elstan to the other in four days.

The messenger pulled a scroll out of his belt pouch and handed it to Blade. Blade read it three times, while the others tried to pretend they weren't dying of curiosity.

Blade rolled up the scroll, handed it to Borokku, then turned to his audience. «It seems that the first Jaghdi scouts have entered Elstan,» he said. Then he looked down at Kima and drew his sword. «She will not have to wait long to be avenged.»

Everyone around Blade started cheering and waving weapons. He wished he could have been promising long life and riches for all of them, instead of certain death for many.

Chapter 19

The cloud of dust from thousands of hooves rose to mix with the smoke from burning Elstani farms as the main Jaghdi army marched eastward. They had been out of the forest for a day now and were invading the valleys of Elstan, taking prisoners and setting fires to the farms. Some of the Elstani had managed to flee and had set fires to their own storage buildings to prevent the Jaghdi from eating their food and taking their supplies, but many more of the Elstani were being captured. Now the army was preparing to ride farther into the valley, taking more prisoners as they went, and making their camp near the towering cliffs.

Tressana sat on her rolgha, the Women's Guard around her, watching Efroin of the Red Band approach.

He reined in and took off his helmet. «We're well enough started, Your Grace. When will you be joining us?»

Tressana studied Efroin's dusty, sun-reddened face. It was hard to tell if he was questioning her courage, and she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. «As soon as the rest of the wagons come up. The Elstani have burned too much for us to risk losing the food in the wagons. Even that won't be enough if you don't keep your men in hand.»

«I'll do my best, Your Grace. It would be easier if we had you with us.»

«We've talked of that before, Efroin. You will obey.»

«Yes, Your Grace.»

Seeing the queen's mood, Efroin put his helmet back on and rode back toward his men. Tressana watched him go with the first doubts about her plan she'd felt in quite a while.

Dividing her army still made sense. Eight thousand men would ride on into Elstan, led by Efroin. Two thousand would stay behind under the queen, to gather food from Elstan's remaining farms and protect the slow wagons as they crept out of the forest of Binaark. The Elstani would be too busy with Efroin to attack her.

There also would be no sharp-eyed men around to suspect her plans for King Manro. There was Jollya, and she would have to be replaced if necessary. There were two other women ready to lead the Women's Guard and, Tressana hoped, able to do the work as well. Sikkurad would no doubt suspect the queen after Manro was dead, but he was harmless. He now seemed only to be interested in studying Elstani livestock and all the specimens he'd brought out of the forest of Binaark. It seemed that nothing much short of the end of the world would get his attention, and whatever suspicions Tressana had felt about the Keeper now seemed unnecessary.

In fact, there was no serious danger from anybody with her now. Efroin perhaps would have been another matter. He was both sharp-eyed and honest. Now he would be too busy to think of anything else. She could hope this would last until Manro was dead. If the Elstani were defeated by then, even Efroin wouldn't gain anything by suspecting her. She was safe enough, given enough time and only a little luck. For the hundredth time she wished Richard Blade were still alive. If he were, she wouldn't have needed the luck.

Manro stood by the tail of the wagon, chained by one ankle to the rear axle. He watched the rolghas trot past, kicking up clouds of dust. It made him cough. The women guarding him were also looking at the riders, not at him. He wondered why the women had put a heavy chain around his ankle. The men who guarded him hadn't done that. But at least the women were gentle. They never pushed him or said unkind things to him.

Dark Jollya must have told them to be gentle with him. That was good. It proved she really was his friend, which was even better. He would need a friend to save him from Tressana and whatever punishment the gods would give her. That punishment must be very close now, because all the men were riding away into the new land and leaving Tressana behind. They did not want to be near her when the gods' punishment came.