Yedan urged his gelding into a thundering charge, but at an angle away from his attacker—in the direction of the fleeing scout. An instant’s assessment told him he would not catch the man. Instead he lifted himself upward, knees anchored tight to either side of the gelding’s spine. Drew back his arm and threw his sword. The point slammed up and under the rider’s right arm, driven a hand’s breadth between his ribs, deep enough to sink into the lung.
