'Stay with Whirlwind,' Taita told her. 'I will come back to find you.'

He hurried to the stockade, where Meren was waiting for him.

'Fenn - how is she?' were his first words.

'She will be able to ride and is waiting with the horses,' Taita told him. 'What is happening here?'

Meren pointed across the open ground. Two hundred paces away, the Basmara regiments were mustering at the edge of the forest.

'So few,' Taita observed. 'Half as many as there were last evening.'

'Look to the south wall,' Meren told him.

Taita swivelled around to gaze in the direction of the great lake.

'So! They are doing what they should have done yesterday,' he remarked drily. 'They will make a double-pronged assault.' He pondered a moment, then asked, 'How many men are fit enough to hold a weapon this morning?'

 I WILBUR SMITH

'Three died during the night, and four of our troopers took their Shilluk whores and brats and deserted in the darkness. I doubt they will get far before the Basmara find them. That leaves sixteen of us, including Nakonto, Imbali and her tribe-sister, Aoka.'

'We have fifteen horses strong enough to carry a man and his baggage,'

Taita said.

'Do we stand to meet another Basmara charge or set fire to the outer stockade and try to escape on the horses in the smoke?'

Taita did not take long to decide. 'To stay here will only delay the inevitable,' he said. 'We will take our chance on the horses and make a run for it. Warn the men of what we intend.'

Meren went down the line with the order and returned swiftly. 'They all know what to do, Magus. The fire-pots are ready. The dice of hazard are in the cup and ready for the throw.' Taita was silent, watching the enemy regiments. They heard the familiar war chant begin, the drumming of the shields and the stamp of hundreds of bare feet.

'They are coming,' said Meren softly.

'Fire the stockade,' Taita ordered. The men at the piles of dry kindling dashed on to them the smouldering contents of the fire-pots and fanned them with their sleeping mats. The flames leapt up instantly.

'Fall back!' Meren bellowed, and the survivors jumped down from the burning parapet. Some ran, while others hobbled or limped, supporting each other painfully. Watching them go, Taita felt suddenly tired, frail and old. Was it all to end here in this remote, wild corner of the earth?

Was so much endeavour, suffering and death to be of no consequence?

Meren was watching him. He straightened his shoulders and stood to his full height. He could not falter now: he had his duty to Meren and the remaining men, but even more so to Fenn.

'It is time to go, Magus,' Meren said gently, and took his arm to help him down the ladder. By the time they reached the horses the entire length of the outer stockade was enveloped in a roaring, leaping wall of flame. They shrank away from the fierce, blistering heat.

The troopers led out the horses. Meren went down the column assigning the mounts. Of course, Fenn would ride Whirlwind and take Imbali on her stirrup to guard her. Taita would have Windsmoke, with Nakonto hanging on to his stirrup ropes. Meren would be on his bay with Aoka covering his blind side. All the other troopers would ride their own mounts. Now that no mules were left alive the two spare horses were loaded with food and baggage. Hilto and Shabako took them on lead reins.

240 I

Under cover of the flaming stockade they mounted, facing the outer gateway. Taita raised high the golden Periapt of Lostris, and cast the spell of concealment over them, shielding them from the eyes of the enemy. He was well aware of the difficulty in cloaking such a large group of horses and men, but the primitive Basmara would be readily susceptible to the illusions he wove.

The Basmara made no effort to break through the burning stockade.

Evidently they believed that their victims were trapped within and were waiting their chance to finish them. They were chanting and shouting on the far side of the blaze. Taita waited until the flames had burnt through the outer gates and sent them crashing to earth.

'Now!' he ordered. Habari and Shabako galloped into the smoke and threw loops of rope over the fallen gates. Before the fire could burn through the ropes, they dragged them aside. Now the way was open and the two men galloped back to the others.

'Keep together, the closer the better, and follow me,' Taita said. The spell's efficacy would be revealed once they were through the gates and out on the open ground beyond. The gateway was framed with fire and they had to get through quickly, before they were roasted alive.

'Forward at the gallop,' Taita ordered quietly, but he used the voice of power, which carried clearly to every man in the line. They charged to the flaming gate. The heat struck them like a wall and some of the horses balked, but their riders forced them on with spurs and whips, the heat singing coats and manes. It scorched the men's faces too and stung their eyes before, still in a tight group, they were on open ground.

Basmara were prancing and howling all around them. Although some looked at them their eyes passed blankly over them, then lifted to the top of the burning stockade. Taita's spell was holding.

'Quietly, slowly,' Taita warned. 'Keep close together. Make no sudden movement.' He kept the Periapt held high. Beside him, Fenn followed his example. She lifted her own gold talisman and her lips moved as she recited the words he had taught her. She was assisting Taita, reinforcing the spell. They moved across the open ground until they were almost clear. The edge of the forest was less than two hundred paces ahead, and still their presence had not been detected by the tribesmen. Then Taita felt a cold draught on the back of his neck. Beside him, Fenn gasped and dropped her talisman on its chain. 'It burnt me!' she exclaimed, and stared at the red mark on her fingertips. Then she turned, with a stricken expression, to Taita. 'Something is breaking our spell.' She was right. Taita felt it tear and shred, like a perished sail in a blast of wind.

They were being stripped of their concealing cloak. Another influence was working on them, and he could not deflect or divert it.; 'Forward at the gallop!' he shouted, and the horses headed for the edge of the forest. A great shout went up from the Basmara legions.

Every painted face turned in their direction, every eye lit with bloodlust.

They swarmed towards the little band of riders from every quarter of the field.

'Run!' Taita urged Windsmoke, but she was carrying two big men.

Everything seemed to happen with dreamlike slowness. Although they were pulling ahead of the warriors that followed them, another formation of spearmen was running in from the right flank.

'Come on! Fast as you can!' Taita urged. He saw that Basma was leading the race to cut them off. He bounded across their front with his spear balanced on his right shoulder, ready for a clean throw. His men were baying like hounds on a hot scent.

'Come on!' Taita yelled. He judged the angles and speeds. 'We're going to get through.'

Basma made the same calculation as the band of horsemen swept past him, thirty paces clear. Basma used the impetus of his run and the strength of his frustration to hurl the spear after them. He launched it high and it dropped towards Meren's heavily laden bay gelding.

'Meren!' Taita shouted a warning, but the spear was in his blind spot.

It struck his mount just behind the saddle, hitting the spine. The bay's back legs collapsed. Meren and Aoka were thrown into a tangle on the scorched earth. The Basmara, who had been about to abandon the chase, took heart and rushed forward, led by their chief. Meren rolled to his feet and saw the faces of the other horsemen looking back at him as they were carried away by their own mounts.