The riders who had come through the iconostasis door spread along the sanctuary walls without needing orders. The last defenders in the nave had already been dealt with behind them. The sounds from that direction had changed, and nothing there required attention anymore.
Nasan stopped in the doorway. He looked at the two men standing in the center of the sanctuary, judged the situation immediately, and jerked his chin toward them.
"Leave them. That's Gal's kill."
No one moved toward the center.
Gal held his saber in his right hand and studied the man facing him.
First he forced himself to take stock of his own condition. Blood had soaked through the left side of his coat. The wound was fresh, and every exchange since then had stolen a little more movement from his left arm.
The morning's work weighed on him. The earthwork slope, the breach, the gate, the fighting in the nave.
None of it had broken him, but every movement now cost more than it had before.
