Chapter 6: Pine Ridge

They gave Jiang a gelding with a mouth and no weapon but his own hands.

The winter hunt at Pine Ridge had two hundred riders and forty hounds.

It also had a Grand Marshal in gold armor, who rode at Jiang's elbow for two hours telling him how many men he had killed.

"Four thousand one hundred at the ford alone, General.

I had the clerks count."

"Then your clerks are better than my scouts."

"I'll hang you for that one day."

"You'll have to find a rope," Jiang said, "and a better archer than the one you hired."

Lin, riding on his other side with his left arm tucked against his ribs, coughed very hard into his sleeve.

The woods went up in black pines with snow lying thick in the forks.

By noon the beaters had driven the party into a long gully with a frozen stream at the bottom.

The line of riders strung out until Jiang could see no one ahead and no one behind but Lin.

The Marshal had dropped back.

Jiang noticed it.

"Highness," he said.

"Ride on, and don't look round."

"Why?"

"I've been hunted in forests since I was fourteen, and I don't like the quiet."

The first arrow came out of the pines on the left.

Jiang saw the flash of the head and threw out his right hand.

His leather bracer took the shaft with a crack and a jolt that shot up to his shoulder.

The point stopped an inch from Lin's throat.

Jiang held it there, shaking, in his fist.

"Down!" he said, and dragged Lin out of the saddle by his belt.

They hit the snow together.

The horses screamed and bolted.

Two more arrows thudded into the tree behind them.

Jiang rolled over Lin and pressed him flat.

A third whipped across Jiang's left arm and opened it from elbow to wrist.

"You're hit," Lin said, under him.

"It's nothing.

Run for the rocks."

They ran.

Jiang had Lin's hand in his, and it was the first time he had held it without a reason.

They went through the pines with the arrows whining after them.

Then the shooters lost the angle, and there was only sleet and the sound of their breathing.

There was a lodge at the top of the slope, a hunters' hut of logs with a stone chimney, empty and half buried.

Jiang kicked the door open, shoved Lin through it, and barred it behind them.

The room was dark and smelled of old smoke.

Lin found flint on the mantel and lit the hearth with his one good hand.

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