Casca 34: Devil's Horseman by Tony Roberts Page A

of the yurt. Ashira knelt by his side and waited for a command. Casca looked at her. “Ashira, you’ve said little since we arrived here with the army. Can you see yourself remaining here for the rest of your life, or would you wish for something more permanent?”
    She smiled faintly, her eyes almost closing. “A slave has no wishes, only servitude. Where you go, I go.”
    “Oh dammit, Ashira, you were really pissed when I took you away from Samarkand. And here you are in a yurt in the lands of the Rus, serving someone who is as out of place here as you are. You know damned well I won’t remain here any longer than I have to. So what would you have me do for you before I go?”
    Ashira lowered her head. She remained silent for a moment. “Please master, do not raise my hopes falsely. As a slave I should not expect gifts or favors. You promise much but can you guarantee what you promise?”
    Casca took her by the hand and pulled her close. “We’ll see. I must remain with the army for the moment but I promise I’ll take care of your future. But in the meantime, woman, you will be well cared for here.” He pushed aside the blankets. “Remove your clothes, Ashira, and remain here tonight.”
    Smiling, Ashira did as she was bid and slipped under the blankets, rolling herself on top of Casca, and delighted in keeping him awake for hours.
    * * *
    The raiding parties rode back and forth, burning, killing and plundering. The terrified population of the countryside fled, spreading news of the terror that had come from the east as they went. And all the time the horde closed in on Riazan, slipping through the forest slowly, like some huge lumbering beast. The forest animals, too, fled from the advancing invaders and the Russians knew they were close when suddenly wildlife became over abundant around the city.
    Subedei and Batu held a council-of-war in the forest close to the city. The army tramped past, their frozen breath clouding the air around them. “We will use Casca-Badahur’s idea of a stockade,” Subedei said, drawing a circle in the snow and then another inside it, denoting the city. “Scouts will be constantly on the move around the area, in order to detect any relief approaching from the north, south or west.”
    Batu chewed on his lower lip. “We must invite them to surrender first; that is the law.”
    The princes scowled. A city surrendering was not their idea of fun. It meant no plunder or killing. Subedei nodded, looking at the assembled generals and princes. “We must find an ambassador who speaks their tongue. Then he will take a message we will dictate to the garrison. If they refuse to surrender, we will attack.”
    The princes brightened. The very word gave them a thrill.
    Casca returned to his yurt and put his red hands close to the fire. It was freezing! “When do we attack, master?” Kaidur asked, his mustache white with frost.
    “When we find someone who can speak Russian. I cannot,” he added, chagrined that here was one tongue he had little knowledge of. He’d been through the lands of Kiev long ago but hadn’t learned the local Slav language, preferring to stick to the Scandinavian dialect of the Varangians he’d been with at that time.
    “I speak their language,” Ashira said unexpectedly.
    Both Casca and Kaidur turned round in speechless surprise.
    * * *
    Riazan had been built in a forest clearing, the city being built from the trees that were slowly cleared as the city expanded. It was surrounded by high log walls and the gates were roofed and guarded with towers. Smoke rose lazily from the houses as Casca, Ashira and Kaidur strode through the gleaming white snow towards the east gate. To the watching Russians the edge of the forest had come alive with thousands upon thousands of mounted warriors, all waiting silently, all fiercely attired with swords and bows.
    Ashira had been transformed. She was dressed in a bright blue long sleeved dress with red edging, and over this she