Graelam flung Chandra out of the way. She lurched to her feet, grabbing a clay pot that lay on the earthen floor.
“No!” she screamed, bringing Munza’s eyes toward her. She flung the pot at his chest. As Munza stumbled backward, Graelam lunged at him, his fist smashing the side of his head. The scimitar went flying and Munza fell to the ground.
“Graelam!” she yelled, pulling at his arm. For a moment, his mind was locked against her, and he smashed his fist again against the Saracen’s face.
“The tent is on fire!”
Graelam smelled the bitter smoke and tore himself away from the Saracen. He grabbed the scimitar, and together he and Chandra rushed from the flaming tent.
The horses had broken free and were galloping from the camp through the masses of men and women. Chandra saw a man with his clothes aflame running in blind frenzy and pain. Graelam jerked her back as a maddened stallion galloped in front of them, flinging clots of dirt in their faces. He tried to clear his mind of the raging spectacle about them, and plan their escape. He grabbed Chandra’s hand and pulled her with him toward the cliffs, away from the people and the trampling horses.
Jerval felt a numbing band of pain in his chest. His eyes followed Payn’s shout and pointing finger.
The dark sky was cast in orange. “By God, it is the Saracen camp.”
“We are too late!”
Jerval did not hear Roger de Clifford’s voice. He kicked his spurs into his destrier’s side and pushed him across the plain toward the eerie orange glow in the sky. He heard Payn’s shouts behind him, a battle cry to the fifty men that followed.
They thundered into the camp, their swords ready to strike, but the Saracens fled away from them, leaving whatever they could not carry.
Jerval pulled his destrier to a halt in the center of the camp, his eyes burning from the acrid smoke, straining to find Chandra. He saw the huge tent, collapsed on itself. He spurred his horse toward it.
Jerval yelled over his shoulder as he pointed toward Chandra and Graelam, “Stay close to me, and then fan out!”
Graelam saw a crazed horse veering toward them. He slammed Chandra against the cliff, covering her body with his. He splayed his hands on either side of her, flattening her against the rocks to protect her. He felt her heart pounding against his breast.
“If we are to die, Chandra,” he said, pressing his cheek against her temple, “I would say that we have given life a fine ride.”
“We won’t die,” she said. And he knew she believed it.
Graelam laughed. “It has come to me, my lady, that had I succeeded in claiming you, we would have likely killed each other. You are not a restful woman, Chandra.”
Graelam pressed her tightly against him, closing out the din about them. Chandra struggled to look beyond him. He heard her say in a strangely calm voice, “I knew he would come. I knew we wouldn’t die. Jerval is here. We will be all right now.”
He jerked about to see Jerval and a dozen men forming a barrier around them. “Aye, Chandra,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You were quite right.”
He stepped back, allowing Chandra to see what was happening. She did not move, even now that the danger was past, merely stared toward her husband as he shouted orders and rode toward them.
“Chandra?”
She ran to him. As he caught her in his arms, he looked over her head at Graelam, who stood silently, watching.
To his surprise, Graelam smiled. “Your wife and I,” he said, “are very pleased to see you.”
Jerval looked down into her beloved face, blackened with soot, and couldn’t believe his eyes. She was crying. He said nothing, just tightened his arms about her back and felt the cloth that covered her begin to slip.
“I cannot have you naked, love.” He forced himself to release her for a moment, pulled off his mantle and wrapped it about her. She hiccuped as she tried to swallow her tears, and he laughed, deep and rich, a laugh filled with relief.
“Come, Chand
ra, there will be no fighting here tonight. Let us go home.” He lifted her into his arms and set her upon his destrier. He turned back to Graelam. “You have saved what I hold dearest on this earth. I thank you, my lord. I am forever in your debt.”
Graelam grinned, just shaking his head. “Even though you see her crying now, like a weak woman, my hide would be naught but fodder for desert vermin if not for her. It galls me, but it is she who has saved me twice. I will never raise my sword against you.”
Chandra said, “It is all the smoke that is making my eyes water.”
“Aye,” Jerval said. “The smoke. I feel my eyes beginning to water as well. Come, let us all get out of this place. I wish to come no closer to hell.”