Free The Towers of Samarcand by James Heneage Page A

would die. Rising to a crouch, he waited to hear some noise within the pen before making his rush. A horse whinnied and another answered and he ran. He was as fast and silent as his Varangian father had taught him to be. Before the guard could awake, Luke had ripped the dagger from his belt and slit his throat from side to side. There was no sound beyond the slither of metal breaking skin.
    Now he was moving quietly along the rope, talking and soothing as he went and looking for the signs in each horse that marked it out as leader. Luke crept up on the second guard from the side, clamped his hand over his mouth and drove the knife between his ribs. Blood splashed over his hand and the man jerked in tiny, gurgling spasms before he died. Luke wiped his hand on the ground and rolled into the pen. The horses stood around him and he looked at each in turn.
    Which of you is leader?
    He moved further in, the horses parting before him, puzzled, curious. Luke looked from head to head, calling softly, cajoling, seeking out the one that would persuade the others. Then he saw him. A black gelding with white socks and a lozenge on his nose. There was space around him, which meant that he was held in respect by the others. The horse looked at Luke and Luke looked back.
    I know you
.
    He knew that he’d seen the animal before. Luke had spent as much time as he could getting to know the Germiyan horses. He’d fed them, watered them, talked to them; he’d done everything but ride them. And he’d marked this one out as special. Now, in the soft light, he looked into two big eyes with moons in them, eyes that were watching him without fear.
    We know each other
.
    He put out his arm and touched its nose, moving the flat of his palm down to cover the nostrils. He would have the smell of horse on that hand. He moved it down to the grooved rubber of its lips, cupping its chin and lifting the head so that their noses touched. The white lozenge shone as it met the moonlight and Luke looked straight down its silver path into those big, unblinking eyes.
    There is something I want you to do
.
    A minute later, Luke had mounted a different horse. With no saddle, he was able to lie almost flat along its back as he moved slowly through the herd, gently pushing animals out of their way. He reached the perimeter, slid to the ground and pulled up two posts, laying them flat on the ground. Then he led the horse down the side of the pen until he got to the corner and a good view of the sleeping raiders. They were lying close tothe dying fire. There didn’t seem to be any guards although a single horse stood in silhouette, tethered slightly apart.
    Luke bent down and picked up the sack of airag. He pulled the stopper from its mouth and smelt its contents. Then he put it to his lips and drank. Fire burnt his throat and he buried his face in the pony’s mane to stop himself from coughing. He mounted the horse, the airag in his hand. The landscape around the fire moved; one of the raiders was sitting up. He’d heard something. Luke saw him turn to wake others.
    Now
.
    Luke started over the open ground and the man rose and reached for his bow. He was shouting and other heads came up. Then Luke was on top of them. He swung the airag sack twice above his head before hurling it into the fire. There was an explosion and burning debris flew into the air. A scream of pain came as a man’s clothes caught light.
    Luke was already backing his horse away when he felt the wind of an arrow above him. He ducked and turned the horse’s head for flight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone grab for the tethered horse. He kicked hard and struck the pony’s flank with his fist.
    He looked up at the stars and found a plough. Above it would be the North Star. The pony was moving quickly now and Luke was skirting the pen, a hundred pairs of eyes watching his progress. When he reached the place where the rope had been lowered, he saw the horses already beginning to leave