The Sword Lord by Robert Leader Page A

a halt.
    They rested for an hour and then turned back. Some of the foot soldiers moved reluctantly, but none argued. They stayed in a close group, and in the soft moon and starlight, Hamir was easily able to retrace their route. Two more hours and they were back in the shallow valley where the dead still lay unburied.
    There was a scuffling sound, as a jackal or some other scavenging animal was disturbed from its feast, but then stillness. Kananda and his party stood motionless, all their senses alert, their hands softly muzzling the horses, but there was nothing to alarm them. There was no longer the sensation of being watched.
    Kananda nodded to the huntsman and he continued to lead them down the valley, past the scene of the ambush. The band of savages who had attacked the hunting party could be estimated at between thirty and forty and their trail was clear to follow. It led through the hills to where the forest loomed as a black, tangled wall in front of them.
    Hamir scouted ahead and came back.
    â€œThere is a path.” His voice was caught somewhere between relief and fear. “It is narrow, but we can follow it into the forest.”
    Kananda dismounted and the others did the same. “We will go into the forest on foot,” he decided. “If the gods are smiling, their village will not be too far inside the forest and we will recover Ramesh before dawn. Two men will stay here with the horses.”
    They entered the jungle footpath with swords drawn. The huntsman led, with Kananda at his shoulder. Zela came next, then Kasim and three more of the young nobles. There were ten soldiers to follow them. They were seventeen strong. The odds against them were unknown, but at least twice their number had attacked Ramesh and his hunting party. If they were to succeed, then the elements of surprise and darkness had to weigh heavily in their favour.
    The jungle closed around them, suffocating and threatening in its almost total blackness. There would have been no room for the horses here and they kept to the footpath only because there was no other way. The path was like an invisible tunnel through the seemingly impenetrable tangles of foliage on either side. There was a constant low rustling, chirping and buzzing from the small nocturnal animals, birds and insects that hunted unseen on the forest floor. Leaves and creepers continuously touched their faces or dragged across their bodies like cold, caressing fingers.
    Their progress was slow and nerve-wracking, and for the first time Zela began to concede that Blair might have been right. Perhaps this was not a wise course of action on her part. A hand lazer might be an effective weapon in a stand-up battle between two human forces, but it would be of little use against the fangs of the cobra that might be coiled in waiting beside this jungle path or against the prowling leopard that might be even now stalking them through the lower branches of the trees.
    Her right hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, and her left hand tightened on Kananda’s shoulder. It was an involuntary shudder of apprehension, but then Kananda’s fingers reassuringly touched her own. Zela smiled then in the darkness. Blair might be right—probably was right—but this was where she wanted to be. Kananda needed her and that was enough.
    It was difficult to judge time and distance and so they could only guess at how far they had penetrated into the forest. It seemed like forever, but at last there was a break in the blackness ahead. The red glow of fires cast a flickering light and they could smell the woodsmoke. The trees thinned out on either side and they discerned the faint silhouettes of some low, conical huts.
    Hamir stopped. Kananda gently drew him back and signaled the others to wait motionless. He moved silently forward, intending to reconnoitre alone, but Zela and Kasim moved equally silently beside him.
    Kananda stopped them after a few more paces. They were on the