Seven left.
The leader was mounted now, sawing at the reins, trying to turn the frightened animal. He was shouting in Tangut—curses, prayers, it didn’t matter. Borte reached up, grabbed a fistful of his horse’s mane, and vaulted onto the rump behind him. blood and bone mongol heleer
“No tears. Save your water for the chase. They ride for the Salt Pass. By dawn, they will be beyond our reach. You have until the moon touches the Needle Rock.” Seven left
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