s together,
knuckles pressed tight, so that the blades drove deep into the flesh
just below the rib cage of the stallion, their points not two inches
apart. Revel jerked them apart and out, and the horse contorted and
writhed together in a thrashing heap and came down, its blood hissing
out from a foot-long gash. The squire, unable to realize what was
happening, fell sideways on top of the Mink, who stabbed upward blindly
as he rolled away from the dying horse. The squire took one dagger in
the groin of his spotless lime breeches, the other just under a silver
button above his heart. The world shut out for him in pain and terror
and a loud, broken screech.

Revel fought out of the tangle of limbs and crumpled corpse, shot to his
feet in time to meet the charge of a pair of slavering hounds. He knew
he was done now, there was no more running for the Mink, and he cursed
his fate even as he blessed whatever power had sent him so many gentry
to be pulled down with him. The dogs leaped, one died in mid-air and the
other carried him down once more, its lean teeth snapping off a patch of
hide and muscle from his shoulder as its guts poured free of its body
through a frantically-given wound. Revel was up again, shaking himself,
grappling with a third hound whose knowledge of men made it wary of his
blades. It hauled away as he slashed at it, lunged for his throat,
caught an ear instead, and coughed out its life as it was flung over his
shoulder in time for him to run the next dog through the skull as it
sailed at him.

He was bleeding like a punctured sack of wine, though the wounds were
far from mortal. One ear lobe was gone, his left shoulder felt as though
it had been scalded by boiling pitch, and his whole frame was stiffening
somewhat from the myriad tiny cuts it had received. Revel was in his
glory, although he counted his life in seconds now. The whole pack was
not in the valley, these four dogs had not run with it, and only men
remained. Yet above were the orbs, to take a hand if he should prove too
mighty for the gentry's handling.

A squire galloped up, jumped from his saddle and came at the Mink. Revel
blinked blood from his eyes.

"Rosk!" he said, grinning. Now the gods were kind!

The lean-jawed squire halted twenty feet away, presenting his gun to the
Mink's breast. "A fine fox," he said admiringly, "a damned fine fox, but
too vicious for the hounds. Die, Mink!"

"Damned if I will," said Revel, flinging him