Grimalkin was silent for almost a minute and seemed to be deep in thought. At last she spoke again. ‘Where do your own women dwell?’ she asked. ‘Within the walls of your city I found no trace of them.’
I saw the look of dismay on Slither’s face, and he seemed to stagger as if the question had shocked him to the core of his being.
‘We Kobalos do not talk of such things,’ he replied, clearly outraged. ‘To ask such a question is a flagrant breach of etiquette.’
‘But I am an outsider,’ Grimalkin replied. ‘One foreign to your customs and beliefs. So I ask you to answer my question so that I may learn.’
‘I too would like an answer!’ I called angrily across the room. ‘You are hiding something – I feel sure of it!’
Slither glanced quickly towards me, but his answer was directed at Grimalkin. ‘Our females were called Slarinda; they have been extinct for over three thousand years.’
‘Extinct? How could that happen? And how do you continue your species without females?’ she demanded.
Slither answered her second question first. ‘Kobalos males are born of purrai – human females held prisoner in the skleech pens.’
The witch nodded. ‘Why did the Slarinda all die?’ she persisted.
‘It is a tale of madness, of a time when our whole people must have become temporarily insane. All our women were executed in a vast arena; once its inner doors were shut fast, it could be flooded. And on that day of madness it was flooded with blood.’
‘What?! You murdered all your women?’ I screamed out, clutching the sobbing Bryony even tighter. ‘What manner of filthy beasts are you?’
I saw Slither’s tail quiver upright against his back, as it sometimes did when he was annoyed or faced danger. But he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. It was as if I had not spoken.
‘The Kobalos females were dragged in groups down the steps,’ he said slowly. ‘Their throats were cut and they were suspended from chains that hung from the high roof of the stadium – until all the blood had drained out of their bodies, pooling upon the ice of the arena floor. It did not freeze, for warm air blew from conduits in the sides of the arena.
‘The work was carried out quickly and efficiently. Once a body had been drained, it was removed from its chain and carried back up the steps; immediately, another took its place. The females did not resist; most approached their death with bowed heads and resignation. A few cried out in fear at the approach of the knife; very occasionally, a shrill scream was to be heard echoing across the vastness of the stadium.
‘For seven days the work went on, until gradually the arena was filled with blood, almost to shoulder height. From time to time, the mages stirred in small dilutions of other liquids so that it should not congeal. Finally this work of madness was accomplished. At the end of the seventh day, the last female had been killed, and our race now consisted of only males. The path had been cleared; the weakness excised; the stain washed clean. That is what they believed had been achieved.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Grimalkin said. ‘Which weakness do you speak of?’
‘It was thought that females made us weak. That they softened males with their wiles and undermined the savagery that is necessary to be a warrior.’
‘Do you believe that?’ Grimalkin asked, staring into the eyes of Slither.
He shook his head. ‘A warrior must always guard against a softening of his nature, but it can come from many sources. It was an act of madness to kill our females, though all societies can temporarily lapse into insanity.’
I felt sick, but was astonished to hear Grimalkin say, ‘Yes, I think you are correct.’
‘Of course, such events are hard to forecast, but in the case of my own people I’m sure that the madness will return. And I know the circumstances that will bring it about.’
‘Have you seen this? Or is it common knowledge amongst your people?’ Grimalkin demanded.
‘It is a faith that our people blindly hold to. But we mages have probed the future and think that it is very likely to occur again.’
‘When will that happen?’
‘I know not the “when” but I know the “why”,’ Slither replied. ‘When our god, Talkus, is born, Kobalos strength will be tripled, and we will surge out of Valkarky in a holy war that will wipe humankind from the face of this world. That is what my people believe. They will embrace the insanity of total war.’
‘I thank you for being truthful,’ Grimalkin said. ‘The history of your people is terrible – it explains why you steal human women and practise slavery. I oppose such a thing with every fibre of my being; however, I will keep my word regarding your sale of Nessa. I will leave your city secretly, but will join you again soon. First I will escort you on your journey south to deliver the younger sister to her aunt and uncle. Finally I will accompany you as you travel towards the Dendar Mountains. I wish to see the kulad of Karpotha where human females are traded.’
Hearing her words, I could not prevent a sob from escaping my lips. For a moment I had thought that Grimalkin might stand up to Slither and demand that I be given my freedom to go with Bryony. Now I saw that she would honour her promise to him – a beast amongst beasts! These animals had killed their own females, and now I was to be delivered into their filthy hands.
WE LEFT VALKARKY on good mounts, shod in the Kobalos manner so that they could walk more easily through the snow. Our saddlebags contained grain to feed the horses and, additionally, sufficient oscher to meet any emergencies. We also had provisions of our own for the journey.
There was no sign of the witch. She had done as she’d said and left Valkarky secretly, riding on ahead.
The two purrai had stopped their sobbing at last, but they looked pale, their eyes downcast, evidently still in the grip of grief. I shook my head at their foolishness. What was done was done. There was no profit in dwelling on it. The minds of humans were indeed weak.
At the gate the High Mage, Balkai, the most senior of the Triumvirate, said a bitter farewell to me. A poor loser, he was scowling as we parted ways. I knew that he had no love for haizda mages; he was made uneasy by the fact that we worked alone, far from the city, and thus beyond his scrutiny and control.
‘You ride away an apparent victor,’ he said, leaning close and whispering into my right ear so that those in attendance could not hear. ‘Your shakamure magic may have helped you to survive a little while longer, but your days are numbered.’