Weeks spent behind the Karsite lines had given her a rough command of their language; she heard the shouts, and realized that from the plurals being used that they had mistaken the gray warsteed for a white Companion, and herself for another Herald—it would have been funny, if she’d had any time to think about it.

She slashed at the Herald’s bonds, while the Companion charged down and trampled two more Karsites in his way, and Hellsbane reared on her haunches and bashed out the brains of a third. The ropes to his ankles and wrists were easy enough to handle, but just as she was getting ready to saw at the thongs binding Eldan’s arms to the log, two more of the Karsites rushed her. She tossed a knife at the Herald’s feet while parrying the first Karsite’s rather clumsy attack. He was easily dispatched, but his friend arrived, and another with him—

Hellsbane got there first, half-reared and got the first from behind, and the Companion fought his way to the Herald’s side. Now at least she didn’t need to worry about having to guard him while he cut himself free.

She thought she’d been hit a couple of times, but the wounds didn’t hurt. Since they weren’t slowing her down, she ignored them as usual. The horses were doing the job of four or five fighters, charging and trampling every sign of organization and scattering people before them like frightened quail—and Kero began to think this was going to work-Then she wheeled to face an opponent she sensed coming up behind her—

And her sword froze her in mid-slash.

The new opponent was the warrior-priestess. A woman. And Need would not permit her to carry out her attack.

LetmegoyoustupidBITCHofahunkoftin! she screamed mentally at the blade, seeing her death in the smiling eyes of the priestess, in the cruel quirk of her lips, in the slow, preparatory swing of the priestess’ mace-

Then a tree limb swung down out of the gathering darkness, and with a resounding crack, broke in half over the woman’s head.

The priestess dropped the mace, and fell to the ground like a stone.

Need let Kero go, muttering into the back of her mind in sleepy confusion, then subsiding into silence. “Thanks,” she told the Herald, with all the sincerity she could manage.

“Anytime,” he replied, grinning.

But there were still far too many Karsites in this camp, and the stunned disbelief that took them when their leader went down wasn’t going to last much longer.

Kero made a running jump for Hellsbane’s saddle, vaulting spraddle-legged over the mare’s rump and landing squarely in place. The Herald followed her example a half breath behind.