I cut at a man who was attempting to pull the General from his saddle, and found to my surprise that the man lay dead on the cobbles at my feet

The General glanced down at me, smiled.

“There is blood all over my soft boots,” I complained.

An arm caught at me.

“Out of this, Cija. This is going on too long. I’m going for 285

reinforcements. I’ll lead ’em back but you can’t be here any longer.”

Smahil had got a bird from somewhere. I set my foot on his and clambered up, putting my arms round his waist, while he leaned forward to fight off an attacker who had taken advantage of the bird’s momentary immobility.

At once we were away, scattering the others, towards the gate. But at the gate there was resistance. I had already seen, from the corner of my eye, other Northerners try to get away here and fail. It was incredible! Yet other Southerners had arrived and they too were fighting us!

“What the bloody hell do you people think you’re bloody well playing at?” bawled Smahil as he parried with his sword the spear of a hawk-eager young mounted Southern leader.

“Your guess is as good as mine, friend,” the Southern leader answered with an expert thrust. “I only receive the orders, but I’m making hay while the sun shines.”

“Who gave the order?” Smahil inquired politely, but they were separated in the middle of the encounter. Next I realized only when Smahil hauled me back that someone had tried to drag me down. All the shouts and lurching were getting me confused again. The bird barked hysterically and dashed sideways as something landed with a wet smack on its head.

“Someone’s brain,” said Smahil.

At last we were out of the courtyard. The cacophony jerkily faded. We careered down the narrow street, shying at bodies. I clung to Smahil.

“I killed a man,” I said.

“Felicitations, kiddy.” He was managing the bird well, it was only just not bolting.

“Are you going right to the Northern barracks?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not going to the Southern, nearer though it be. Someone may well already have done that, and a bloody lot of good it was.” He yanked viciously on the bridle.

Big drops of rain began to fall again.

We crossed the river by a bricked bridge, and lolloped over a small hill where the rain splashed in the foliage. The Northern Barracks is some way out from this loop of the City.

“Perhaps by the time we come back the General’ll be killed.”

“Nonsense, they’d take blasted good care just to capture him. And you’re not coming back.” He sniggered. “I’m not certain that I am.”

Smahil pulled at the bird’s head and slumped forward sud-.