had held off an further attempts to destroy the fortification of tangled branches and rocks. Better to keep the men as fresh a possible, Keyoke judged.
A sudden shout arose from behind Minwanabi line Uncertain what this might signify, Keyoke signalled every man in the canyon to stand ready. Strike Leader Dakhati~
hastened to his Force Commander's side, sword pointed at'
the barricade. But no foray came against the defenders.~, Rather than choke the defile with more soldiers, Minwanabi unexpectedly withdrew.
Dakhati expelled a pent breath. 'Perhaps they tired of seeing their men die for naught.'
Keyoke shrugged, noncommittal. Retreat was not Irrilandi's style, and certainly not Tasaio's. 'Perhaps,' he conceded. 'But our enemies were willing enough to waste lives until this moment.'
On the verge of speaking, Dakhati fell abruptly still as an object was launched into the air from a point beyond the canyon's rim. Dark against the daylight sky, it came flying into the gully, a bundle of soaked rags and knots. It struck the hard dirt and rolled, servants scattering from its path in case it contained a nest of stinging insects - an old siege trick - or something equally unpleasant. Keyoke signalled and Dakhati moved to investigate. The Strike Leader lifted the bundle and unwrapped it. When he pulled away the last turn of cloth, his lips tightened and his face blanched grey beneath his tan.
As Dakhati glanced up, Keyoke nodded almost imperceptibly
. His Strike Leader covered the bundle in response.
'It's Wiallo's head,' he murmured softly.
'I thought so.' Keyoke's voice betrayed no hint that he shared the same hopeless, helpless rage. Mara, he thought, you and Ayaki are in grave danger and I can do nothing to help.
Equally mindful of the threat to the Acoma household, Dakhati added more. 'They included a bit of rope, so we might know they hanged him before they cut his head off.'
Keyoke repressed a flinch at the mention of an honourless end. 'Wiallo told them he was a deserter, no doubt. He may have been hanged, but he died with courage. I'll attest to that before the Red God himself.'
Dakhati nodded grimly. 'Your orders, Force Commander?'
Keyoke did not answer immediately. He was pained beyond measure by the fate of his messenger to Mara; the canyon was sealed, irrevocably. Now no one could win free to warn her of the spy unnoticed in her house. His bitterness came near to showing as he said, 'Only to stand ready and kill as many Minwanabi as possible. And to die like men of the Acoma.'
Dakhati saluted and returned to the barricade.
The assaults continued through the day, halting only to allow the Minwanabi to regroup and send fresh soldiers into the van. They no longer made pretence of being outlaws, Keyoke observed with old hatred. The ranks that assaulted the breastwork now wore orange-and-black armour.
Dedicated to their mission, the enemy warriors threw themselves against the Acoma defenders; they died and died, until the flow of their lifeblood soaked the soil and mixed into sucking mud. The Minwanabi were not the only casualtieS. Acoma soldiers fell also, more slowly, but with a finality that wore away at their numbers.
Keyoke tallied eleven dead and another seven wounded beyond the ability to serve. He estimated this had cost the Minwanabi ten times that number dead or critically injured.
More than a company of slain enemies would rise to sing of his valour when Keyoke's soul stood in judgment before the Red God, but he despaired to be sent in defeat, that his mistress might never discover that her security network been breached until too late. For while Lujan was a quick enough study that Keyoke counted him a fit successor ~l Force Commander, he was untested in large battles, and Keyoke forced himself away from agonizing over there.
There was no profit in it. He approached the senior servd. 'How fare our stores?'
The man bowed. 'If our soldiers take minimum rations we have ample food for several days.' ~
Keyoke considered a moment. 'Double the ration., instead. I doubt we'll survive for several days. Th Minwanabi seem determined to waste lives as a drunker'
spends centis in a tavern.'
Shouting arose from the canyon mouth, and Keyoke spun around, his sword out of its scabbard with the speed oœ
reflex. Minwanabi soldiers had contrived to gain a position on a ledge behind their own lines, and archers were shooting at the heads of the Acoma defenders, forcing them down while the attackers at the barricades threw shields across the bodies of fallen