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weakly in his saddle, clutching the bloody stump of his wrist. His eyes were
glazed and almost rolled completely back. He babbled prayers to some god.
Two troopers grappled with a third, trying to throw him from his saddle.
Abruptly the fighting seemed to stop. The charge had carried Yamun's men
through the enemy. The effect was dramatic. The sudden appearance of the
warriors had set the Khazari cavalry into panicked flight. The broken lines
streamed back the way they had come, ignoring their officers, leaving their
wounded behind.
"Signal the pursuit," Yamun bellowed to the standard-bearer. Already the
commanders of the jaguns were gathering their men. The standard waved,
and the war drums quickly picked up the signal. Not allowing the Khazari
troops a moment to regroup, Yamun hurled his riders after them. The lines of
Tuigan cavalry quickly fanned out.
A rider wearing the armor of a Tuigan dayguard furiously whipped his
horse, overtaking Koja. Some headstrong young warrior out to impress his
khahan, the lama thought. He looked to see who it was, on the faint chance
he knew the man. To his amazement, it was the dayguard he had seen
earlier, the man who had aroused his suspicion. Hard behind the man came
Afrasib, the wizard. He held no weapon but a slender bone wand. A flashing
spark shot from the end, then a sudden gout of flame exploded far to the right.
A wavering line of smoke hung for a second in the air. The wizard laughed
aloud, deriving some maniacal pleasure from the destruction.
Suddenly, Yamun's group ran into another cluster Khazari, men who had
no intention of turning their horses and running. There must have been twelve
or more of them grouped under a commander. Sechen's momentum carried
him through the defenders. His charge scattered the group. Some of the
Khazari lancers veered off toward Yamun's standard-bearer, forcing the man
away from the khahan. Two charged toward Koja, only to be met by the
priest's guards. The suspicious-looking dayguard continued to whip his horse
mercilessly, driving it toward the khahan. Koja wanted to call the man back,
then realized the guard's job was to protect the khahan, not him.
Koja saw the dayguard, his foxlike face gloating, move close behind
Yamun. The priest assumed the fellow was only coming to the support of his
ruler, but he suddenly lunged forward, thrusting his lance into Yamun's back.
The khahan howled in rage and pain. Twisting in his saddle, he swung his
saber in a blurring backhand swing. There was a brief, dull sound as Yamun's
blade sheered through the man's collarbone and cut into his chest. The
would-be assassin dropped his lance in surprise. Blood flowed freely from the
rent in his armor. He fumblingly drew his sword and weakly jabbed at the
khahan. The thrust missed, but pierced Yamun's white mare in the rump. At
the same time, the Khazari lunged forward, sensing an opportunity to strike.
Yamun's mare squealed in pain from the dayguard's blow and lurched
forward, crashing through the two enemy riders. One man's horse staggered,
knocked sideways by the charging mare. The rider clutched at the mane to
keep his balance, forgetting his attack. He quickly lost his balance and fell to
the ground.
Still acting with fearful speed, Yamun recovered from his backswing and
thrust his sword forward, sweeping the point up. The tip of his saber slid under
the bottom of the other Khazari's breastplate. With a quick twist and pull,
Yamun gutted the trooper. The man's eyes widened in surprise and pain, his
hand automatically reaching to his belly. The lance dropped from his dead
fingers, and his body slowly fell forward. The khahan's sword, still half-
entangled in the body, was twisted from his grasp.
The khahan suddenly sagged back in his saddle, too exhausted to recover
his weapon. Dark red blood, his blood, soaked the back of his armor and
stained the silver fittings of his saddle.
Koja realized there was no one else around to aid Yamun. Instinctively,
Koja jammed his heels into the belly of his horse, driving it forward. The
dayguard assassin, clinging to his saddle, was about to strike the defenseless
Yamun from the rear.
Urgency drove Koja to form a mystic shield of deflection around the
khahan. With one hand wrapped in the reins and his legs clamped around the
chest of his mount, the priest tried to trace the arcane symbols in the air and
chant the necessary sutras. Only the grace of Furo could save Yamun now.
The assassin's sword lunged straight and true for Yamun's neck just as
Koja's spell was completed. An unseen force seized the khahan and moved
him away from the attack. It was not enough. The tip of the assassin's blade
struck Yamun's shoulder, splintering through the armor and drawing new
blood.
The swing pulled the assassin forward, toward the khahan. Just as the man
reached the limit of his lunge, Yamun reached out and grabbed the assassin's
arm. Fiercely the old warrior yanked, dragging the treacherous dayguard off
his saddle. A long-bladed dagger appeared in Yamun's other hand. Without
letting go, he punched the blade into the killer's side. The man gave out a
horrible, inhuman scream, then writhed and twisted in the khahan's grip. Even
injured, the warlord refused to let go.
At that instant, the dismounted Khazari ran forward, his blade swung high.
Yamun saw it coming out of the corner of his eye. An agonized grunt escaped
his lips as he heaved the squirming assassin, still spitted on his dagger, into
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