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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

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"That will put you only two hours ahead of the Borundans," Gunnar shook his head. "I don't like that plan."

"You think like an Arinite," grinned the Odessian prince. "I can get almost four hours head start on the Borundans, which will give the rest of you plenty of time to be far away."

"Do you want to explain that statement?" asked King Caedmon as he joined the group. "Are they here already?"

"They are climbing the path now," nodded Gunnar.

"The secret is to make them wary of climbing to the top," declared Horst. "If we all stood up here and fired arrows at them, they might be inclined to wait until the arrows stopped before coming up. That would not give us much lead-time. My method is to allow them to climb unmolested while you head north. When they are finally in sight of their goal, I will start picking them off one by one. They will retreat to the bottom and wait until the arrows stop. When they think I have left, they will try again, and I will skewer them again. I will repeat that as often as necessary until you have a sufficient lead on them to keep you safe."

"So they will move more cautiously than they could," nodded the king. "The plan has some merit."

"They will wait a short while between attempts," continued Horst. "I will time my departure so that I leave right after one of my attacks. That will give me some extra leeway."

"They also will not be able to keep the pace of an Odessian beauty when you finally do leave," nodded Kenra. "It is amazingly simple and might actually work."

"Be careful that they do not seek an alternate path up the cliff," warned King Caedmon. "If they get around you, the speed of your horse will not save you."

"Understood," nodded the Odessian prince. "Time to get moving."

Sandar and Jared were awakened as the sky began to lighten. The five warriors mounted and headed due north with Kenra leading the way. Horst had been left with three full quivers of arrows and he sat where he had a good view of the path approaching the top.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the Borundans came into view. The Odessian prince nocked an arrow and let it fly into the chest of the lead rider. The Borundan clutched his chest and leaned away from the cliff, throwing his horse off balance. As the man and horse tumbled from the path, Horst was already letting his second arrow fly into the second man.

Screams and shouting echoed off the walls of the canyon. Horst fired one arrow after another as he worked his way down the line of Borundans. As some of the horses became riderless and continued up the path, the Odessian changed his tactic. As much as it panged his sensibilities, the Odessian prince started targeting the horses.

The Borundan column halted with the new lead rider refusing to go forward. Horst rose and moved his position until he found a spot that allowed him new targets. Once again he started with the new lead man and worked his way down the path. Shouts and curses showed the Borundans to be in a panic. The men wanted to retreat down the path, but others behind them were refusing to move, and the path was too narrow for anyone to pass. That refusal threatened to spoil the Odessians plan.

Horst placed his bow on the ground and pushed a large rock towards the rim of the canyon. He struggled to move it quickly before some of the Borundans got up the nerve to charge up the path. With a final push, the rock teetered on the lip of the canyon and then fell downward. Horst was panting from exertion as he raced to pick up his bow and look down on the Borundans.

The boulder had not only smashed down on the leading group of riders, but it had also hit several other sections of the winding path. There were four large gaps in the line of Borundans soldiers, and all of the Borundans were trying to back off the path. The boulder had proved to be a much more potent weapon than dozens of arrows.

Horst let the Borundans retreat without any further attacks, but he did line up two more boulders near the rim while he waited for them to retreat down the path. The Odessian prince rested on the rim while he waited to see what their next move would be. For over an hour the Borundans did nothing but talk and point up at the top of the cliff.

Eventually, the Borundans sent riders out in search of other paths, which Horst fully expected. What he had not expected were the Borundans abandoning their horses and coming up the path on foot. When he thought about it, it made a great deal of sense. Men on foot could walk up the path until Horst started shooting and then start scaling the cliff wall. Horst would not be able to shoot them all, and he would soon be overwhelmed, but there was a minor flaw in their plan. While the Borundans would indeed take the summit of the cliff eventually, Horst had no need to stay and defend it, and the Borundans would be without horses until someone brought them up. The Odessian prince smiled and waited for the men to get closer.

As Horst waited for the Borundans, he began to worry about the riders who had left in search of other paths up the cliffs. He had not seen any of them return, and that suggested that they had not located another path, but he didn't like not knowing exactly where they were. He decided to start his attack early so he could leave the area.

The Odessian prince leaned over the edge and peered down at the Borundans. The soldiers were running up the narrow path, and Horst quickly pulled his head back and got behind the first rock. He pushed the rock over the edge and immediately moved to the second rock. Screams and shouts filled the air once again as the rock tumbled down the side of the cliff. He pushed the second rock over the edge and whistled for his horse. As his horse came running, the Odessian leaped onto its back and saw three Borundan riders bearing down on him from the east. The enemy had found another path to the top.

Horst secured his bow and drew his twin scimitars. He charged straight at the attacking Borundans. One of the Borundans was riding right along the rim of the cliff, and the man slowed to let the other two soldiers go ahead of him so he would not be forced over the edge. The man's movement gave the Odessian prince his strategy for the battle. He lined up head to head with the rider farthest from the edge and then twirled his scimitars in the air. The Borundans drew their swords and prepared for combat.

Just before impact, Horst turned his beauty towards the rim and raced by the two riders without even swinging his swords. The two leading Borundans were surprised by the maneuver and each swung around in a different direction to pursue the Odessian. For the rider closest to the rim, it was a fatal mistake. His horse lost its footing on the edge and tumbled over the side of the cliff.

Horst continued onward towards the third Borundan rider, moving his left scimitar in front of him with its tip to the right. Horst's right scimitar clashed with the Borundan's sword, and that might have been the only result of the encounter as the two horses sped past one another, except Horst's left scimitar sliced the flank of the horse and the man's leg.

Horst thundered onward and then swung around for another run. Both man and beast were screaming in pain, but the Odessian's attention was on the untouched second rider. The Borundan charged towards Horst, and the Odessian kicked his beauty into a gallop. As the opponents met, Horst leaned out of his saddle and met the man's sword with his left scimitar, leaving his right sword free reign to slice into the man's chest. The Borundan tumbled from his horse.

Horst looked back at the Borundan with the wounded leg with thoughts of finishing him off, but he heard the snap of a bowstring from the direction of the path he had been defending. Horst sheathed his scimitars and turned his beauty northward.

Chapter 39
Oasis

The Odessian prince raced across the badlands. By the time he caught sight of his friends it was already high sun. Gunnar and the others were already searching for a path leading up to the next plateau. This was an area of the badlands that Horst had visited in the past, for at the top of the plateau was the Odessian border. He angled slightly to his right in hopes that the other members of his party would see him and direct their search in the area he was heading for.

"Horst is coming," shouted Jared, who had been constantly looking back in search of the Odessian prince.

The group stopped and Gunnar waved his arms to show his friend where they were.

"He would have seen us already," commented King Caedmon. "We are much easier to spot than he is."

"But he is not heading towards us," Sandar stated.

"Turn around," ordered the Arin king as he saw Horst waving. "He is heading somewhere in particular, and we will meet him there, wherever it is."

The group turned their horses and picked up speed as they ran along the base of the cliff. When the group met Horst, they were at the base of a decent trail leading up the face of the cliff. Horst dismounted to let his horse rest.

"I trust all went well?" asked King Caedmon.

"Very well," smiled Horst. "At the top of the cliff is the Odessian border. They cannot catch us before we cross it."

"I would not trust the Borundans with a border," frowned King Caedmon. "They have already broken every protocol of the Great Peace short of invading another country. Take my horse and lead the others to the top. I will walk yours up."

"Why?" asked the Odessian prince. "You can lead them, and I can walk my own horse up."

"You are the only Odessian in the group," answered the Arin king. "If there happen to be some locals up there, I think it would be wise for you to be leading the group. I do not want a skirmish with your people."

Horst thought for a moment and then nodded with understanding. "I will ride to the top," he declared. "There is an oasis not far from the cliff where we can refresh both ourselves and the horses."

"Dust storm coming from the west," noted Gunnar. "Let's get up top before it hits."

Horst glanced to the west and saw the gray swirls rising against the horizon. He nodded his agreement and mounted his horse. The group followed Horst as he led the way up the trail. The trail zigzagged as the other trails had, but it was not as narrow as the previous ones, and they were able to ride at a decent pace. On one of the switchbacks Horst looked out at the approaching dust storm and halted. The others halted behind him.

"What is it?" Gunnar asked. "Is it your horse?"

"No," the Odessian prince said. "Your dust storm is not a storm at all. Look."

"Riders," remarked Sandar. "Undoubtedly Borundan."

"Not just Borundan," replied Horst. "Those are the Scorpions."

"I thought they patrolled the western border?" questioned King Caedmon.

"They do," answered Horst. "They have come east a few times that I know of, usually for training, but this is not a training exercise. They are galloping to capture you before you can escape."

"Who are the Scorpions?" asked Kenra. "What is so special about them?"

"They are an elite Borundan force," answered Horst. "They are trained in desert warfare and usually assigned to the western portion of the Borundan border with Odessia."

"You don't sound as if you care for them much," commented Sandar, "yet there has been no war between your two countries in your lifetime."

"We have had good relations with Borunda until now," replied Horst, "but the Scorpions are the exception to the rule. They are constantly violating our borders, and have even tried to move the border markers on occasion."

"Why?" asked Sandar. "A friendly neighbor does not do such things."

"The Scorpions were supposed to be experts in desert warfare," Horst smiled thinly, "but that title belongs to Odessians. The Scorpions have tried to infiltrate our training sessions and learn our methods. They violate our borders regularly to test our responses. It has been much a game to them, but my countrymen have complained to Tarent on several occasions. We are always apologized to, but the incursions continue. The way things are going in Borunda, the time for games is probably over."

"I agree," declared the Arin king. "Let's get moving before they spot us and decide to give chase."

Horst nodded and turned his horse to continue up the trail. At each switchback, Horst checked the progress of the Scorpions as they got closer.

"There must be a hundred of them," commented Sandar.

"And they have definitely seen us," added Gunnar. "I don't think they will stop at the border."

"No, they won't," agreed Horst. "Move past me and get to the top quickly. When you reach the top, head to the northeast. If you keep your eyes sharp, you will see the trees of the oasis I mentioned before."

"What about you?" asked King Caedmon.

"I cannot push my horse that hard," answered the Odessian prince as he dismounted, "and I refuse to slow the rest of you down."

"Move out," King Caedmon ordered the group before pulling alongside Horst. "We will hold the rim of the canyon with bows, Prince Umal. Make your best speed."

"You can't defend the summit," Horst shook his head. "They will catch up to us and make our whole effort to rescue you worthless."

"I will never consider what this group has done as worthless," replied the king. "Nevertheless, we will hold the summit until you join us. If we must kill all of the Scorpions to aid you in your trip to the top then that is what we will do."

"No," the prince shook his head. "There is more at stake here than my life. Our group includes a king and four princes. The death of all of us would doom the Land of the Nine Kingdoms for a generation at least. Continue onward and get to safety. I can take care of myself."

King Caedmon urged his horse forward and raced after the rest of the group. When he reached the top, he dismounted and ordered the others to do the same. Bows were unstrapped, and the group prepared for a showdown with the Scorpions.

The land at the top of the trail was markedly different from the badlands. Huge hills of sand stretched out to the northern horizon, and there was nothing that even resembled a trail. King Caedmon gazed down into the canyon. The Odessian prince was walking his horse up the incline about a third of the way down while the Scorpions were filing onto the trail at the base of the cliff.

"Why is he taking so long?" asked Jared. "They will catch up to him."

"He has ridden his horse hard for hours to catch up to us," explained Gunnar. "If he continues to do so, the horse will not make it."

"Surely, he could ride at least to the top of the trail?" frowned Jared.

"And what then?" asked Kenra. "He would have spent the energy of his horse to climb a steep trail, and the beast would have nothing left to give."

"If he walks the horse up the incline," explained Gunnar, "he will be able to outrun the Scorpions when he reaches the top. Their horses will be laboring from the exertion of the climb."

"The only question is whether Horst will time his ascent correctly," added King Caedmon. "If he is not careful, the Scorpions will be on top of him before he escapes. That is why we are here to give aid to him if he needs it."

The Odessian prince kept an eye on the progress of the Scorpions as he continued up the zigzagging path. The Borundans made no attempt to be quiet as they charged relentlessly upward. As Horst made the final bend and began the last stretch of his uphill trek, several arrows flew over his head. He heard the cries of the Scorpions and looked up to see his friends above him. The words that flew from his mouth were of the ancient tribal tongue, and no one who heard them would understand the words, but his friends understood the emotion behind the utterances. Horst was angry.

The Odessian prince leaped onto his horse and shouted for the others to leave immediately. King Caedmon and the others mounted their horses, but they paused to fire another round of arrows at the swiftly approaching Scorpions before turning and heading to the northeast. Horst galloped off the trail and raced after his friends, sand flying from beneath his horse's hooves.

Far off in the distance, in the direction the group was heading, was a tall, long sand dune. King Caedmon pondered the thought of staging a defense from the summit of the sand dune. He turned and looked over his shoulder to see that Horst had almost caught up to the group. He also saw the Scorpions flowing out of the trail and charging after them. He realized that the Borundans' horses would be getting tired, and decided that flight was a better defense as long as Horst could keep up. He waited anxiously for the Odessian prince to catch up to him.

"You should have left earlier," Horst shouted angrily as he approached the rest of the group. "I could lose the Scorpions in the desert. It is my home."

"I will not abandon any member of this team," King Caedmon retorted. "The Borundan horses will be tiring soon. Can your horse continue to outrun them?"

"I think so," nodded the Odessian prince, "but they will continue to track us. There are about a hundred of them, and they are not ignorant of the desert ways. They will rest half of their men while the other half continues to pursue us and then they will switch. We will have to keep going the whole time. In the long run, their tactics should win unless we find a way to trick or defeat them."

"Then we will discuss that while we ride," replied the king as the group started up the slope of the large sand hill. "Is there a place nearby where the terrain will favor the defense by a small group?"

Horst rode on silently for a while as they approached the crest of the hill. He was just about to speak when they crested the hill and saw the Odessian warriors waiting for them. Over a thousand sand warriors sat proudly on their beauties as if waiting for the signal to attack. Horst drew his scimitar and raised it above his head as he shouted a war cry to his brethren.

The Odessian warriors drew their swords and returned the cry, a thousand angry voices rumbling across the sand dunes. King Caedmon halted his horse on the crest of the hill, as did the others in the party. He glanced back at the charging Scorpions who were unaware of their impending fate.

As the Odessian warriors swarmed over the hill and down the other side, the Scorpions realized their mistake. The one hundred Borundans scattered in every direction, some of them trying to reach the trail back down into the canyon. They seemed to understand that there would be no polite request to return over the border this time.

A small group of Odessians had stayed behind as the others charged over the hill. That small group rode to the crest of the hill and surrounded the new arrivals. King Caedmon did not notice at first as his attention was fixed on the massacre between him and the cliff. The Scorpions were no match for the overwhelming Odessian horsemen. Within a matter of minutes the Odessians were gathering the riderless horses of the Scorpions.

"Welcome home, Prince Umal," bowed one of the riders.

"How did you know to be waiting for me here, Kanior?" asked the Odessian prince. "I sent word to be met along the Dulga-Laborg Road."

"And so you shall be," smiled Kanior. "There is a group already waiting there to escort those that you spoke of to our western border. My group has been following the Borundan Scorpions. They violated our borders twice in the past two days, much more than usual, and they appeared to be in a hurry to get somewhere, so we decided that they needed to be observed. It is fortunate that we saw your little party approaching. It made the situation very clear to us."

"I am greatly pleased by your observations," grinned Prince Umal. "King Caedmon will be placed in your care after a night's rest in the oasis. His warrior Sandar will be accompanying him."

The Odessian warrior bowed to the Arin king from his saddle. "It will be a pleasure to escort our Arin brothers to their border," he said with a mischievous grin directed at the king. "Rest assured that we will treat your incursion into Odessia quite differently than that of the Borundans."

"I certainly hope so, Kanior," laughed King Caedmon. "Only a fool enters Odessia with ill intent. I look forward to our journey across your sands."

The Odessian warrior smiled warmly and waved for the group to follow him to the Oasis.

* * *

The Oasis was much larger than Sandar had expected. A wide green belt surrounded three lakes, and palm trees grew in abundance. Domed circular yurts were scattered throughout the oasis with a much larger one situated in the center.

The Odessians escorted the group to three of the yurts. King Caedmon and Sandar were assigned one, while Prince Antion, Prince Derri, and Jared were shown to another. Prince Umal was given his own. Sandar stored his belongings and went back outside the yurt.

"What do you think?" Prince Antion asked Sandar.

"I don't know how to express my thoughts well," Sandar answered after a moment's pause. "I could not have imagined such a sight before actually seeing it. It is so lush and it sits in the middle of so much sand. The huts appear to be very comfortable, especially after so much time on the road."

"They are called yurts," smiled the Arin prince, "and you will find them to be a safe refuge from the wind and the cold. Have you mentioned the horse camp to my father yet?"

"No," Sandar shook his head. "The king has a great many things on his mind right now, and he does not need to be distracted by someone asking for the impossible."

"You don't plan to ask him, do you?" sighed the Arin prince.

"I could not," Sandar shook his head. "Is it not enough payment for my services that he cared for me when I was hurt? How can I act so greedily before one so great as King Caedmon?"

Prince Antion shook his head and sighed heavily. He really liked Sandar and knew the man would excel at horse camp, but he also knew that such a thing would never come to pass without a little help. He saw his father emerge from the yurt, and Prince Antion's fingers started moving rapidly by his side. The prince continued to engage Sandar in small talk as he communicated secretly with his father. After a few minutes, the king walked over and joined the conversation.

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