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leave them behind us.”
    “We want them all behind us.”
    Nadeer gnashed his tusks for a few moments, then told half of the guards to hold the ridge until the convoy had passed, and the rest to rejoin the advanced guard. The caravan continued its slow crawl down the valley. Five turns of the glass later—as the rear guard passed the ridge where the skirmish with the bandits had taken place—scouts reported that the road ahead was blocked by a substantial force.
    Aristide joined the captains as they viewed the enemy. From where they stood at the head of the column, the track descended and broadened into the base of a side canyon, the track cut by a stream that joined the Cashdan, and then the track rose for two hundred paces and narrowed to a pass twenty paces wide, with the river thundering past on the right. This pass had been blocked with a wall of stones, and behind the stones the dark forms of bandits milled in large numbers. More bandits perched on the rocks above, armed with bows.
    “The group on the ridge were to attack our rear when this group encountered our advance guard,” Aristide said. “They meant to panic us.” He scratched his chin. “I wonder if this group knows we drove the others off their position. If so, we might draw them out by feigning panic.”
    “A formidable roadblock,” Eudoxia said. “They chose well.”
    “Our people will be better fighters,” said Aristide. “Criminals are by nature a superstitious and cowardly lot, and few choose their profession because of a love of military discipline or order.”
    “The same might be said of caravan guards,” Grax pointed out.
    “If your people need heartening, you could point out that if they don’t win this fight, they’ll be sacrificed to evil gods.”
    Grax looked at him. “That’s supposed to make them feel better?”
    Aristide shrugged. “Perhaps it’s best to show that the enemy are, after all, mortal. Why don’t I dispose of a bandit or two and raise thus morale?”
    Eudoxia looked at him. “How do you plan to do that?”
    “Walk up and challenge them. Grax, you should charge them the second I dispatch an enemy. Nadeer, may I advise you to personally lead the attack on the rocky shoulder above the pass? It’s the key to the position.”
    Nadeer looked a little put out. “It’s true I’m not much use in a mounted charge,” he admitted. “But why don’t I challenge them to single combat?”
    “For the simple reason,” said Aristide, “that no one would dare to fight Nadeer the Peerless.”
    Nadeer considered this, then brightened. “Very true,” he said. He reared to his full height. “I shall lead the attack up the rocks, as you suggest.”
    Aristide dismounted and performed a few stretching and limbering exercises while the captains gathered their forces and arranged their assault. “One last thing,” he said when they were ready. “Remember to capture a few prisoners. We want them to lead us to the Venger’s Temple and the loot taken from all those caravans.”
    “Indeed,” said Nadeer, brightening even more.
    Aristide took an arrow from one of the caravan guards, stuck a white headcloth on it, and began his walk toward the bandits. He paused after a few steps, then turned and said, “Look after my cat, will you?”
    He walked down the slope to the mountain freshet, waded through ankle-deep water, and began the walk upslope to the improvised wall. He stopped a hundred paces from the wall and called out over the sound of the rushing water.
    “While my colleagues are working out what to do next,” he said, “I thought to relieve your boredom, and come out to challenge your bravest fighter to single combat.”
    Among the bandits there was a general muttering, followed by jeers and scornful laughter.
    “No takers?” Aristide called.
    Someone behind the barrier threw a rock. Whoever threw it was no Nadeer. Aristide stepped to the side and let the rock clatter on the stones. He waited for the laughter to