"You fought well this day," the leader observed. ?As you have in the last encounters. As you did on the morning you were taken into my band."
"I was well-trained," Brynn replied. ?And am To-gai-ru." She managed a smile. ?And none have ever found a better mount..." She stopped, real-izing that the proud leader wasn't even listening to her.
"You will move up seven places in the line, closer to me, I think," Ash-warawu said offhandedly.
Brynn knew that she should be thrilled, but something about his tone and demeanor had her quite concerned.
"After you finish the task," he said, and he slowly turned his head to re-gard one of the Behrenese soldiers lying upon the ground, writhing in pain.
Brynn looked at the man, understanding what was expected of her. But this task hit her hard, assaulting her sensibilities. It was one thing to do bat- inst an enemy, one she profoundly hated, but how could she view a ling helpless upon the ground in such a light as that?
ooked back to Ashwarawu, to see him staring hard at her, not blink-ing, not flinching.
Brvnn turned to Pagonel for support, for anything, and found him sitting there staring alternately at her and at the leader, as if weighing both.
The seconds slipped past.
"Finish the task," Ashwarawu said slowly and deliberately.
Brvnn found it hard to draw breath. She understood the depth of this trial, understood that if she was not strong, her place among the raiders, none all the To-gai-ru, would be forever diminished. She thought to argue about taking captives again, but knew that Ashwarawu was uncompromis-ing on this point. The raider band did not have the resources to keep pris-oners, to feed them or even to watch over them. And since no Behrenese soldiers or caravan drivers would offer any bargaining leverage whatsoever with any of the Yatol leaders, they were worthless to Ashwarawu.
Brynn scanned the leader and the others again, wishing that she had a way out, but understanding that she most certainly did not. She slid down from her pony; she could have done the deed astride, but she didn't want to include Runtly in the dirty business.
Her bloody sword in hand, Brynn walked up to a wounded Behrenese. She chose the most grievously wounded man first, one who could not plead to her, could not even look her in the eye. He gasped for breath, blood pouring from his mouth with each exhalation, and Brynn knew that even if Ashwarawu had agreed to taking prisoners, there was nothing that she and the others could do to help this one.
JuraviePs warnings about the cruelty of war echoed in the woman's mind.
She struck fast and cleanly, stabbing the man through the heart, stilling his body and ending his misery.
The next wounded man looked up at her as she stood over him, his eyes pleading for mercy. He even managed a slight shake of his head, begging her not to strike.
Brynn looked up, then closed her eyes. She remembered keenly the mo-ment when her parents had been murdered, purposely replaying that awful scene in her head again.
She struck, imagining that she was stabbing the man who had killed her parents.
And then she walked away. She held her sword out to the side and called rorth its fire, using the flames to burn away the bloodstains.
She heard the cries of encouragement, the cheers, from the To-gai-ru, ?tough she did not feel much like a hero at that moment. She saw the ap-proving look of Ashwarawu.
Or was it an approving look? She had to wonder, for somewhere in the leader's powerful expression, Brynn saw something more, and something far less. He had chosen her to carry out the executions, under the rational-ization of glory, that she had performed well and so deserved the task of finishing the battle. But in looking at him then, Brynn understood that Ash-warawu had just tested her, and perhaps, that he had just tried to diminish her, in her own eyes if in no one else's. Had Ashwarawu just taken a bit more control over Brynn?
The woman looked to Pagonel, who sat astride his horse, holding Runtly's reins. She saw a sadness there, and a measure of sympathy that she had not expected.
She took the reins and pulled herself up onto Runtly's strong back, the pony accepting her, as always. She took some comfort in that, for Runtly would not judge her, as she could not help but judge herself.