that morning； every one of them； in that dark place。
Afterwards it was quiet； save for the moaning of injured outlaws。 Idar realized that some of the new Jaddite archers were shooting the wounded horses； which is why those sounds had stopped。 The animals' screaming had been going on so long he had almost blocked it out。 He watched as the undamaged horses were rounded up。 They were magnificent stallions； no mounts in Al…Rassan could match those from the ranches of Esperana。
Idar and his father and the others laid aside their weapons； as ordered： there was no point resisting。 They numbered barely more than twenty； all exhausted and many wounded； with nowhere to run； facing fifty mounted warriors。 On the ground beside them； his head now pillowed on a saddle cloth； Abir breathed raggedly； dealing with pain。 The wound in his thigh was too deep； Idar saw； it was still bleeding despite the knot tied above it。 Idar had seen that kind of wound before。 His brother was going to die。 There was a kind of blankness in Idar's mind because of that； an inability to think properly。 He remembered； quite suddenly； the vision he had had when the new Horsemen had appeared： death as a woman； her nails raking for his life。
It wasn't his life； after all。 He knelt and touched his younger brother's cheek。 He found that he could not speak。 Abir looked up at him。 He lifted a hand so their fingers touched。 There was fear in his eyes but he said nothing at all。 Idar swallowed hard。 It would not do to cry。 They were still on a battlefield。 He squeezed Abir's hand and stood up。 He walked a few steps back to stand beside their father。 The old man's blood…smeared head was high； his shoulders straight as he looked up at the new men on their horses。
Tarif ibn Hassan of Arbastro； captured at last after almost forty years。
The outlaw who had bee more a king…and who had always been more a lion…than any of the myriad pretenders to royalty since Silvenes fell。
The numbness in Idar extended to this as well。 Their world was ending in this defile。 A new legend to go with the old ones about the haunted Emin ha'Nazar。 His father betrayed no expression at all。 For more than three decades a series of khalifs and then half a dozen of the petty monarchs of Al…Rassan had vowed to cut off his fingers and toes one by one before they allowed him to die。
The leaders of the new pany sat astride their horses； gazing down upon him。 They looked undisturbed； as if nothing of note or consequence had taken place。 Their own weapons had been sheathed。 One of them was an Asharite。 The other was Jaddite； as were all of the soldiers。 The Jaddite wore an old…fashioned helm with a bronze eagle on the crown。 Idar didn't know either man。
His father said； not waiting for them； 〃You are mercenaries from Ragosa。 It was Mazur the Kindath who planned all of this。〃 He did not put it as a question。
The two men looked at each other。 Idar thought he saw a trace of amusement in their expressions。 He felt too hollow to be angered by that。 His brother was dying。 His body ached； and his head hurt in the silence after the screaming。 It was in his heart； though； that the real pain lay。
The Asharite spoke。 A courtier's voice。 〃A measure of self…respect requires that we accept some of the credit； but you are correct in the main： we are from Ragosa。〃
〃You arranged for us to know about the parias。 You drew us north。〃 Tarif's voice was flat。 Idar blinked。
〃That is also correct。〃
〃And the woman on the slopes？〃 Idar said suddenly。 〃She was yours？〃 His father looked at him。
〃She travels with us；〃 the smooth…featured man said。 He wore a pearl in one ear。 〃Our doctor。 She's a Kindath； too。 They are very subtle； aren't they？〃
Idar scowled。 〃That wasn't her doing。〃
The other man； the Jaddite； spoke。 〃No； that part was ours。 I thought it might be useful to have di Carrera distracted。 I'd heard some rumors from Eschalou。〃
Idar finally understood。 〃You drove them into us！ They thought you were part of our pany； or they would never have ridden into the trap。 They had sent spies； I saw them。 They knew we were here！〃
The Jaddite brought a gloved hand up and touched his moustache。 〃Correct again。 You laid your ambush well； but di Carrera is…was…a capable soldier。 They would have doubled back and around the valley。 We gave them a reason not to。 A chance to make a mistake。〃
〃We were supposed to kill them for you； weren't we？〃 Idar's father's voice was bitter。 〃I do apologize for our failure。〃
The Asharite smiled and shook his head。 〃Hardly a failure。 They were well trained and better armed。 You came close； didn't you？ You must have known this was a gamble from the moment you set out。〃
There was a silence。
〃Who are you？〃 Idar's father asked then； staring narrowly up at the two of them。 〃Who are you both？〃 The wind had picked up。 It was very cold in the defile。
〃Forgive me；〃 the smooth one said。 He swung down from his horse。 〃It is an honor to finally meet you。 The fame of Tarif ibn Hassan has spanned the peninsula all my life。 You have been a byword for courage and daring。 My name is Ammar ibn Khairan； late of Cartada； currently serving the king of Ragosa。〃
He bowed。
Idar felt his mouth falling open again and he shut it hard。 He stared openly。 This was 。。。 this was the man who had slain the last khalif！ And who had just killed Almalik of Cartada！
〃I see；〃 said his father quietly。 〃Some things are now explained。〃 His expression was thoughtful。 〃You know we had people die in villages near Arbastro because of you。〃
〃When Almalik was searching for me？ I did hear about that。 I beg forgiveness； though you will appreciate that I had no control over the king of Cartada at that point。〃
〃And so you killed him。 Of course。 May I know who your fellow is； who leads these men？〃
The other man had taken off his helm。 It was tucked under one arm。 His thick brown hair was disordered。 He had not dismounted。
〃Rodrigo Belmonte of Valledo；〃 he said。
Idar actually felt as if the hard ground had suddenly bee unstable beneath his feet； as in an earth tremor。 This man； this Rodrigo； had been named by the wadjis for years to be cursed in the temples。 The Scourge of Al…Rassan； he had been called。 And if these were his men 。。。
〃More things；〃 Idar's father said gravely； 〃are now explained。〃 For all the blood that smeared and stained Tarif ibn Hassan's head and clothing； there was a remarkable dignity and posure to him now。
〃One of you ought surely to have been enough；〃 he murmured。 〃If I am to be finally defeated and slain； I suppose it will at least be said in years to e that it took the best men of two lands to do it。〃
〃And neither man would claim to be better than you。〃
This fellow； ibn Khairan； had a way with words； Idar thought。 Then he remembered that the Cartadan was a poet； to go with everything else。
〃You aren't going to be slain；〃 Rodrigo Belmonte added。 〃Unless you insist upon it。〃 Idar stared up at him； keeping his mouth firmly closed。
〃That last is unlikely；〃 Idar's father growled。 〃I am old and feeble but not yet tired of life。 I am tired of mysteries。 If you aren't going to kill us； tell me what it is you want。〃 He said it in a tone very nearly of mand。
Idar had never been able to keep up with his father； to match or enpass the raw force in him； he had long since stopped trying。 He followed…in love； in fear； very often in awe。 Neither he nor Abir had ever spoken about what would happen when their father was gone。 It did not bear thinking about。 There was an emptiness that lay beyond that thought。 The white…faced； dark…haired woman with her nails。
The two mercenaries； one standing before them； the other still on horseback； looked at each other for a long moment。 An agreement seemed to pass between them。
〃We want you to take one mule's worth of Fibaz gold and go home；〃 said Rodrigo Belmonte。 〃In exchange for that； for your lives and that measure of gold； you will ensure that the world hears of how you successfully ambushed the Jalonan party and killed them all and took all the parias gold back to Arbastro。〃
Idar blinked again； struggling。 He folded his arm