“For that, and for other things you know of, I, Henga, when next I meet you, will kill you with these two hands. Now, go quickly, lest I kill you here.”
Atana looked at him, apparently recognizing him for the first time, then spat on the ground:
“So ’tis Henga, the cousin of the sweet and easy lady my brother fancied so. ’Tis sad she died so young.”
And, with a mocking laugh, he turned to follow the others.
Then occurred a thing unparalleled in the history of the Sakae, who consider an envoy’s truce most sacred. Suddenly turning, Atana flung his dagger straight at Kyrlos’s throat, and then fled for his life to the horses. It missed its mark by a bare inch, tearing through the leather collar of Kyrlos’s under-jerkin, just over the mail, ripping a long, though luckily not deep, gash at the base of his neck.
The thing was clearly premeditated, for his men were in the saddle as he did it, and two of them dashed forward with his horse. Before the bowmen above us could loose string, the whole lot of the Shamans, bending low in their saddles, were out of arrow-shot away across country as hard as they could go.
But they had reckoned without Payindah. As Kyrlos staggered back against me, Payindah whipped his rifle from under his poshtin and opened fire. He brought down three of them before they were out of range, and the second was Atana, who was pitched out of the saddle, as his horse went down, with a smashed shoulder.
He picked himself up and ran shouting after his men, though I doubt if these would have faced Payindah’s lead. But Henga was after him, running like a deer. Atana saw him, and, seeing him gaining, drew his sword and turned, and a minute later they were at it.
The fight did not last two minutes. Seeing Kyrlos was not badly hurt, I, with several of the men, had followed Henga, and, as we got there, we saw Atana’s sword slip from his grip as Henga’s steel ploughed up his wrist under the mail. I thought Henga would give him the point in the throat then and there.
But instead he dropped his weapon, sprang on Atana, and hurled him on his face on the ground, kneeling above him, and with his knees pinning his arms to his side. Atana fought and writhed to get his arms free as Henga seized him with both hands under the chin, twisting the man’s head up and back till he could look down into his face.