if Sari didn't step in at once, Nasaug would carry the day. Then, instead of backing Sari up, he stood back and watched. And we killed Sari for him. Just like he wanted."
Kitai shook her head. "The Canim are more like your people than mine, I think," Kitai said. "Only the mad would handle things in such a manner. When my father disagreed with Atsurak leading my people, he challenged him and killed him. It was over in minutes."
Tavi smiled. "Not all of us can be as wise as the Marat." He felt the smile fade. "I did what he wanted. But I may have made a mistake, in the long term."
Kitai nodded. "Nasaug may not have Sari's powers, but he will lead his people much more ably than Sari ever could have."
"Yes. Inspire loyalty. Courage. Nasaug is cut off from his home, from help. But he could turn every single Cane with him into the equals of his warriors. We dealt with the raiders fairly well, but we barely gave the warriors a bloody nose. Imagine if he'd had fifty thousand of them, instead of ten. He would have taken the bridge in a day."
"I will imagine it when it is before me, ' Kitai said firmly. "You beg fate to make your fears into reality, Aleran. But for the moment, they are only fears. They may come. If so, then face them and overcome them. Until then, pay them no mind. You have enough to think on."
Tavi took a deep breath and nodded. "You're probably right. I'll try."
Behind him, Tavi heard the makeshift walls groan and squeal. He looked over his shoulder, to where the engineers were raising the opening in the walls so that horses could slip through. Moments later, Max and his cavalry rode toward them.
"You go to watch the Canim retreat?" Kitai asked.
"Yes. Nasaug might rally them and hit us again, before we can recover. I don't think we could stop him, but as long as we keep them in sight, we can always take the bridge down before they reach it."
"I will go with you," Kitai said. Her tone brooked no dissent.
Tavi gave her part of a smile. "Once people have time to catch their breath, they're going to realize that you aren't Aleran."
Kitai's teeth flashed in a smile. "That will be interesting."
Tavi felt like ten miles of bad road, but he and Kitai mounted up and rode forth with Max and the cavalry. They trailed the main body of the Canim host at a distance as they marched back to Founderport. Twice during the ride, they were attacked by wounded Canim, stragglers who had fallen behind the column. The attacks were swift, brutal, and ended quickly, and the cavalry advanced in a loose line, finishing off any Canim who could not keep pace with the retreat.
At the end of the day, Tavi watched, exhausted, as a team of eight horsemen entered the occupied ruins of a barn in one of the burned-out steadholts. Tavi followed behind as they swept the ruins, and snarls and the ringing chimes of weaponplay sang out into the dusk.
Tavi watched as a single large, shadowy form leapt a ruined wall and ran. The Cane was slower than most, its gait unsteady, and in its panic it fled directly toward the Aleran cavalry outside the ruins. A second team spurred forward to intercept the lone Cane.
Then Kitai let out a harsh, sudden breath from her horse, beside Tavi's, and hissed, "Stop them. Do it now."
Tavi blinked at her, but then immediately barked, "Second spear, halt!"
The horsemen hauled their mounts to a stop, looking over their shoulders in confusion.
"Come, Aleran," Kitai said, and set out after the lone Cane.
"Wait here," Tavi told Max. "We'll be back in a minute."
"Uh. Sir?" Max said.
Tavi ignored him and followed Kitai. She led him into the twilight, until they found the fleeing Cane, crouched in the feeble shelter offered by a half-collapsed earthen overhang beside a stream.
She stared at them with wide, frightened eyes, and gathered a number of small, piteously mewling forms to her breast.
She.
She.
Tavi stared at her, speechless. A female Cane, with young. Newly born from the look of it. She must have been giving birth while the Canim retreat began. No Aleran had ever actually seen a female Cane, and over the centuries it had given rise to a number of unsavory rumors about how the Canim perpetuated themselves. The truth was simpler, more obvious, and embodiment of it shivered in