I intercepted it, slaying it on the spot by burying a blade deep within its left eye. It twitched, jerked and went into a death spasm. Seconds later all life had left its body! We had defeated the Haggenbrood. I had won!
My unexpected victory caused an uproar which came close to a riot. Over a hundred stewards rushed in, and immediately set about the foolish spectators with clubs and maces. I watched heads break and bleed as the stewards laid about them, clearly enjoying their task. Soon more blood flowed there than had ever graced the combat area itself. It was enjoyable to watch and I savoured every moment. But all too soon the unruly spectators had been forced back into their seats.
After order had been restored and the bodies removed, the trial judge climbed up into the arena and formally announced my win. He did not look happy at my unexpected and unorthodox triumph. I could see that he was struggling to conceal his shock and dismay. But what could he do other than confirm my victory?
This time he did not read aloud. No doubt he had prepared only one statement – that announcing my expected defeat and death. But he spoke slowly and ponderously, as if weighing each phrase in his mind before uttering it.
‘The haizda mage who stands before you has triumphed in combat and proven his case beyond refute. Both the Shaiksa Brotherhood and the Triumvirate must acknowledge and abide by this outcome. He is free to leave the city and may take his purrai with him. They are now officially his lawful property. That is the law and none are above it.’
All that remained was for me to seize my property, return to my quarters and leave as soon as possible. I cut the youngest purra, Bryony, free, but when I approached the stake to which Susan was bound, I suddenly realized what had happened.
As I’d intercepted the third self of the Haggenbrood, unknown to me, the tip of its claw must have penetrated the skin on Susan’s forearm. That had sealed her fate. Her skin had become yellow-brown in colour and as dry as ancient parchment. Her face was distorted and she was gurgling deep in her throat, obviously in the grip of terrible pain. Even as I reached her, she took her dying breath, a great rattling sob. I could do nothing to help her. There is no antidote, no cure for kirrhos.
The youngest sister screamed in horror and grief as, within seconds, Susan’s eyes fell back into her skull and her skin began to flake and crack. Within that crust of skin her flesh had melted like soft yellow butter, and her tissues began to ooze out of the widening rifts in her skin, dissolving, dripping down her bones to form a noxious stinking puddle at her feet.
She had succumbed to the tawny death.
NESSA
I WAS IN Slither’s quarters, my thoughts in turmoil, endlessly pacing back and forth across the small room allocated to me. The door was locked, and would remain so until their return.
I remembered the arena and how Slither had graphically described what might happen. I saw in my mind’s eye the terrible Haggenbrood holding the grille with a taloned hand. Slither had stamped upon it and treated the creature with disdain, but it had never been defeated in previous trials. How would the mage fare when all three selves attacked him in the arena?
And what of Grimalkin, the witch assassin? She was formidable and had dark magic at her disposal. She was so confident too – so very sure of herself. But if the Haggenbrood proved victorious, then my sisters would both die.
I heard footsteps approaching Slither’s quarters, and the voices of the beast and the witch. Then a child crying. It sounded like poor Bryony. She must have been traumatized by the events in the arena, but despite that, my heart soared with joy. They were here. They had triumphed, surely . . . Otherwise they would be dead. They had won, and soon we would be able to leave this cursed city!
Then the key turned in the lock and the door of my room was opened wide. I stepped out to look at each of them in turn. Suddenly my heart sank.
Where was Susan?
‘I did my best, little Nessa,’ Slither said, and for the first time he was unable to meet my gaze, ‘but your poor sister succumbed to the terrible tawny death. Her brain turned to mush, her eyes fell back into her skull and her flesh slid from her bones. The pain was terrible, but she is at peace now. We must be thankful for that.’
‘What?’ I cried. ‘What do you mean? Where is Susan?’
‘She is dead, as I have tried to explain. One fatality was a small price to pay for such a glorious victory – surely you agree that it is better than all of us being dead.’
‘But you promised!’ I said, my throat and chest tightening so that I could hardly breathe. ‘You promised my father to keep my sisters safe!’
‘I did my best, Nessa, but the odds against us were great. I could do no more than what I did.’
Tears sprang from my eyes and I fell to my knees beside the sobbing Bryony and held her close. I felt betrayed. I had sacrificed myself just as my father had demanded, but for what?
‘Say nothing more,’ Grimalkin said to Slither. ‘Your words do not help.’
I was aware of their footsteps fading as they retreated to the far corner of the large room, leaving Bryony and me alone in our pocket of misery.
I was in two places at once – my imagination recreating the horror of poor Susan’s death; the other part of my mind listening to the conversation between Slither and the witch, which was still just audible to me.
‘The two surviving girls both deserve to be taken south to live in peace with their relatives,’ I heard Grimalkin say. She was a witch, but it was good that she took our side.
‘I will keep my promise regarding the younger purra,’ Slither replied. ‘But I intend to sell Nessa in the slave market, as is my right. After all, she belongs to me. She is my chattel. I must abide by the law of Bindos or become an outlaw. Records are kept, and after my triumph in the arena my notoriety will guarantee that I am closely watched. The High Mages will seize upon any excuse to bring me down. So do you intend to hinder me?’
I looked up and saw the witch shake her head. ‘We made a trade and I will keep to it. I always keep my word. But where is the slave market of which you speak?’
‘It is held within the large kulad called Karpotha, seventy leagues directly southwest of Valkarky, in the foothills of the Dendar Mountains.’
‘Does it hold many slaves?’
‘It is the largest of all our purrai markets, but the numbers vary according to the season. The end of winter heralds the first of the auctions. In about a week’s time the first big spring market will be held there. Hundreds of purrai will be sold and bought within its walls before being taken in chains back to Valkarky.’