Hegira Read Online Free PDF

gave Bar-Woten a rough idea how many were following them. It was a large group, maybe twenty men. He looked around desperately and saw a ravine angling away from the road, not too deep to climb out of, but deep enough to hide them if the horses could be kept quiet. It pointed to a dense copse of trees where they'd have a better chance in a fight.
    “Your horse,” he called back to Kiril. “To keep it quiet, pull both its ears back gently and tug with every sound it makes — but not too hard!” They left the road and slid into the ravine one by one, rocks and clods rattling behind. The soft sandy bottom muffled the pounding hooves. Water splashed and clouds of insects rose to feather them and cling.
    Trees grew above the ravine after a hundred meters of winding run. Bar-Woten found the way ahead blocked, brought his horse up short, and urged it to clamber up the side of the ravine into the copse. It hesitated and reeled but finally dug its hooves into the soft dirt and hauled itself up the slope. Barthel and Kiril followed. A bag of supplies dropped from Kiril's horse, and he turned instinctively to retrieve it. “No!” Barthel stage-whispered. “Leave it!”
    Already the chugging and clop of hooves was clearly audible. The pursuers were no more than a hundred meters from where the ravine began. The buggy wouldn't be able to follow, but the horses could give them a dangerous chase.
    Branches whipped by as they plunged through the trees. Bar-Woten held up his hand to push them aside and gritted his teeth at the sting. A stem slapped Kiril across the mouth, and he felt blood on his lips, but he didn't dare stop. “This is mad,” he whispered to himself, licking his lips.
    Barthel's horse seemed to lose its footing. It teetered, whinnied sharply, and vanished like a ghost. Kiril shouted for Bar-Woten to stop and pulled his horse around to go back. “Hey!” he called in a harsh whisper. “Hey! What's happened?”
    He couldn't see anything. The fire doves were nearly down now. It would be a few minutes before other bright ones rose to replace them. He heard the shouts of approaching men and the distant chatter and rumble of the idling steam buggy. But Barthel was not to be seen or heard. Kiril cursed Bar-Woten. He ground his teeth and slapped his horse's flank in frustration. The animal jumped, then stood its ground shivering and champing on its bit. “He's ridden away, damn him!”
    The forest was now completely dark. Lanterns gleamed from the road, and some bobbed closer, carried by men on horseback. A bright spot came on at the back of the steam buggy, and a whining generator matched the chug, chug, hiss. The light scoured the forest, formed a blinding band on a tree over Kuril's head, passed by, then circled back on the ground. He moved his horse to one side. The upper arc of the circle passed within inches of the horse's hooves. He didn't dare speak or call out names, so he guided his horse between two oaks and dismounted. Should he grab the animal's ears to keep it quiet? He decided not to. He patted its neck and whispered to it, not audible above the wind in the trees. He held his hand up and moved his fingers to see what he could detect — nothing. The pitchy woods were full of odd sounds now that he was blind — sighs of tree limbs, leaves rustling, water groaning over rocks someplace near.
    He couldn't see the lanterns from behind the tree, but he could see their backwash. He heard the voices plainly.
    “Tracks! Dirt gouged up here.”
    “Yes, but which way? Did they double back?”
    “How many are there?”
    “Too many! Damned Ibisians would sooner cut a throat than eat dinner.”
    “Many would say one leads to the other.”
    “Quiet! What's that?”
    Kiril listened and tried to stop his own breathing. His horse was cooperating and he felt a great affection for it. Wonderful beast!
    “Nothing. Leaves.”
    "Don't be too sure, dammit.''
    “Where's Reynot?”
    “He was behind me.”
    “Reynot,