"Did you?" the expedition's leader began, only to break off as a magnificent ten-point buck came crashing through the trees at an oblique. Only this time, the animal crossed their path from left to right.

"Nothing, Ghartoun." Jathmar shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Ahead of them, Fanthi chan Himidi broke abruptly left, signaling for the others to remain where they were. He moved swiftly and silently, vanishing between the thick tree trunks like a ghost.

Jathmar halted, heart pounding, breathing heavily, and gripped Shaylar's hand. Her slim fingers trembled against his, but they both drew comfort from the contact. She peered worriedly up into his face, and he tried to summon a smile, but she could read his agitation too easily through the marriage bond.

A moment later, Fanthi returned, jogging straight up to chan Hagrahyl.

"There's a clearing we can use. Looks like a twister touched down at some point in the past year or so. Lots of trees down. Tangled brush, tree trunks the size of temple pillars. Good cover, as well as plenty of concealment. We won't find a better spot."

Even Jathmar knew the difference between "cover" and "concealment." The former was a physical barrier between you and enemy bullets, like a shield. The latter merely hid you from view. A screen of leaves concealed, but nothing to stop incoming fire; a solid tree trunk did both.

chan Hagrahyl looked at chan Himidi for a moment, then nodded.

"Take point." He raised his voice. "Listen up, people. We're following Fanthi. Move it!"

chan Himidi had, indeed, found a good spot. Little more than an acre across, the clearing overflowed with raw distraction. A spinning funnel of wind from some long-ago storm had ripped trees out of the earth, snapped them like kindling, and twisted them apart, leaving jagged knife blades of wood stabbing the sky. Small splinters had been driven into other, still standing trees with such force that they were embedded like nails. Tree trunks had crashed to earth in a jumbled pile, digging broken branches into the ground.

"We know they're coming at us from three sides," chan Hagrahyl said quietly. "We'll take position there." He pointed to a confusion of tangled wood on the far side of the clearing. "I want clear firing lanes, and someone to watch our backs, in case the bastards succeed in circling all the way around us."

"I'll cover our rear until your all in position," chan Himidi volunteered through clenched teeth.

"Good." chan Hagrahyl nodded. "But listen to me, everyone! No one shoots unless I say so. Got that? Nobody shoots. I know we all want revenge for Falsan, but there are men out there with weapons. If we have to fight, we fight all out, but first we try and work things out so that nobody else gets killed. Is that understood?"

Heads nodded all around, one or two of them a bit unwillingly, and he grinned tightly at them all.

"Good," he said again. "In that case, let's get under cover and dig in."

They took their positions in utter silence, facing south, the direction from which the bulk of their pursuers would approach, and fanning out slightly. Jathmar stationed himself and Shaylar in a sheltered pocket where a massive black walnut trunk, nearly five feet in diameter, formed a solid barricade. It was the best protection he could find, and branches thicker than his own torso jutted up and out from the main trunk, forming angled braces he could use to steady the rifle if it came to that.

Tymo Scleppis took up a position to Jathmar's left, near the center of their all-too-ragged line. The healer was opening his pack, trying to ready himself for casualties if it came to open fighting. Rilthan?their best marksman, by a wide margin?crawled in just to Shaylar's right. The gunsmith was the only member of their party armed with the new Ternathian Model 10 bolt-action rifle, with its twelve-round box magazine. He said nothing as he settled into position, but he flicked one glance briefly in Shaylar's direction before meeting Jathmar's gaze. It was only a fleeting look, but it told Jathmar that Rilthan had chosen his spot deliberately, and Jathmar's throat was tight as he nodded, acknowledging Rilthan's intention to protect her.

Beyond Rilthan was chan Hagrahyl's clerk, a dark-skinned Ricathian who'd joined straight out of high school. Not yet nineteen, Divis' color was closer to last week's ashes than its normal warm chocolate hue, and his hands shook as he tried to load his own rifle. The drovers formed their flank guards, such as they were, but they had barely five men on either side.

Jathmar crawled up onto one of the immense branches, using it as a firing step to get just high enough to shoot over the top of the trunk. It was too tall for him to shoot across standing on the ground, but thanks to other branches that had slammed into the earth, the fallen tree bole didn't quite reach the forest floor. There was a gap, about fourteen inches high, which allowed Shaylar to lie prone behind one of the big branches, protected from incoming fire, yet able to shoot through the gap if need be.

Everyone was checking weapons, including Shaylar, and Jathmar's hands felt clumsy as he pulled cartridge boxes out of his pack. He'd fired hundreds of rounds through the Model 70, and thousands of rounds through other rifles he'd owned, over the years. He'd hunted for food and for sport, and he'd run into bandits more than once, trading shots with desperate, lawless men. But he'd never seen real combat, and his hands refused to hold steady as the reality of what they faced hit home.

He slid his H amp;W out of its holster and curled his fingers around the reassuring solidity of its walnut grips. The big .44 caliber, seven-shot revolver was single-action. The hammer had to be pulled back for each shot, but the six-and-a-half-inch-barreled pistol was deadly accurate, and it had immense stopping power.

It was also too big and heavy for Shaylar to shoot accurately. She carried a Polshana?a much smaller and lighter .35 caliber weapon, with a four-inch barrel and smaller grip. Unlike the H amp;W, the Polshana was double-action, and Rilthan had worked long and hard to tune its action for her until it was glass-smooth. It held only six shots to the H amp;W's seven, but unlike Jathmar, Shaylar had four speedloaders, and he watched her tuck them into her the right hand pocket of her jacket.

He swung out the H amp;W's cylinder and loaded the chamber he normally left empty for the hammer to rest on. Then he slipped it back into its holster and finished arranging his ammunition boxes around him. At his feet, Shaylar was doing the same thing with the ammo boxes from her pack. From his slightly elevated vantage point, Jathmar could see others settling into equally favorable spots amongst the fallen trees.

Fanthi chan Himidi had abandoned his post, watching for pursuers from the south, now that everyone else had gotten into position. He settled into a new spot of his own, behind everyone else, facing north into the forest behind them and scanning restlessly for any sign of the men trying to circle around to close the trap. Jathmar spotted chan Hagrahyl at the center of their little group, hunkered down in an angle where two tree trunks had fallen against one another as they crashed down.

Braiheri Futhai had crawled as far as possible from the expected line of fire, hiding in visible terror and doing nothing to prepare for self-defense. Elevu Gitel had hunkered down between Jathmar and chan Hagrahyl. The geologist was loading his rifle in grim silence, and glancing in the other direction, Jathmar found Barris Kasell less than a yard beyond Rilthan.

Try as he might, he couldn't see the others, which he took as a good sign. They settled in, uneasy, on edge?waiting in a classic ambush position to see what their pursuers would do.

Shevan Garlath had never seen a likelier spot for an ambush.