“Aye—”

Alexeika spun around. “Do not call out,” she pleaded urgently, keeping her voice as low as she could. “Your kind are not welcome here, and King Muncel’s soldiers lodge within.”

At that moment the watchdog set up a furious barking, and a shout came from inside the inn. Alexeika swore and jumped onto the bony back of one of her acquisitions. She kicked it forward and yanked on the reins of the other just as some of the soldiers came bursting out into the yard and ran to the gates.  “Thief! Bandits!”

The clash of steel made Alexeika glance back. She saw the four strangers fighting off the soldiers’ disorganized attack. Grinning to herself, Alexeika kicked her mount to a gallop, and the horse she led broke into an unwilling run alongside.

Seconds later, she heard the thunder of hoofbeats behind her and saw that the four strangers were following her. She swore in annoyance, for they would lead the soldiers onto her trail.

By now, torchlight was flaring in the stableyard. Men shouted, and already some of the soldiers were mounted in pursuit.

Alexeika leaned low over the neck of her horse, urging it faster. But it was a sorry steed, far inferior to the Mandrian horses. They were gaining on her easily, and she knew she could not elude them, especially while she was hampered with the spare horse.

Reluctantly she dropped its reins, and the animal blundered over into the path of one of her pursuers. As the man cursed in Mandrian, Alexeika yanked on the reins and left the road, ducking low as she plunged into the forest. Here, no moonlight penetrated the interlaced boughs of pine and fir. She rode recklessly through the darkness, pressing her cheek to her horse’s rough mane to keep from being whipped by branches.

If Thod favored her, as she prayed he would, the Mandrians would not leave the safety of the road.

But Thod did not favor her.

The Mandrians fell back slightly and Alexeika thought her ploy had worked, but then two riders began to follow her while the others stopped to engage the soldiers. Again she heard the clash of swords, along with a choked cry of pain.  The second skirmish ended nearly as soon as it began. Alexeika glanced back, and now she saw a shadowy figure racing behind her, closing the narrow gap.  Worriedly she tried to think of another trick to throw him off, but at that moment her horse plunged into a thicket of briers and reared with a squeal of pain.

With no stirrups or saddle to aid her, Alexeika nearly fell off. Clinging to the horse’s neck, she hung on desperately while it lunged out of the thicket. Then it halted with a lurch that sent her flying.

She landed on her hands and knees with a jolt that snapped her teeth together.  As her horse whinnied and tried to run backward from her, she staggered upright in an attempt to grab the dangling reins, stumbled in the deep snow, and fell again.

Meanwhile, the Mandrian in pursuit galloped up so fast she feared she would be trampled. She rolled frantically to one side even as his mount plunged to a halt, throwing a spume of snow over her. Snorting white jets of air, the horse tossed its fine head and pawed the ground.

Alexeika’s horse flicked its moth-eaten tail and darted into the undergrowth.  Seeing a long day’s worth of hard work vanish like mist, she knelt in the snow and swore long and loud.

The Mandrian laughed at her. “I understand one word in four,” he said, still chuckling, “but for a maid verily you do curse as well as any knight I’ve known.”

Vexed beyond measure, Alexeika fell silent. To be laughed at, after having failed so completely in her objective, made her furious.  The other Mandrians joined their leader, who glanced their way. “Any more to follow?” he asked.

“Nay, sire,” said the largest one. “They fought ill indeed. Why they thought us bandits I—” The leader pointed at Alexeika. “There is the bandit, but she has lost both her horses in the chase.”