I urged my horse forward across the fresh snow. It was then that I saw the tracks of many feet heading south, the snow churned up and no longer a pristine white. It seemed as if a large party of slaves had travelled in that direction. But why should that be? It made no sense at all. They should have been either going east or west towards the other slave markets, or northeast towards Valkarky itself – anywhere but south.
Then I noticed the first of the bodies. It was one of the small party of Oussa, who had escorted slaves to Karpotha. The warrior was lying face down. Beneath his head and upper body the snow had been turned to slush and stained bright red with his blood: his throat had been cut.
There were two more dead Oussa guards near the gates, and then I saw bloodied footprints heading away from the city – mostly northwards. Horses had gone in the same direction too.
What had happened? Why had they fled?
Inside the kulad there were bodies everywhere – Kobalos merchants as well as Oussa guards. The wooden platforms were slick with blood. Nothing lived. Nothing moved.
But there was no sign of the slaves – where could they be?
Then, for the first time, I noticed the shape carved into the gatepost:
This was the sign of the scissors that the witch assassin carried in a leather sheath. How could it possibly be marked here on the post? Had she returned?
No! She had not returned. She had been here all the time.
In a flash of understanding, I realized what had happened.
I had not sold Nessa at the slave market.
I had sold Grimalkin!
WHAT A FOOL I had been to trust the human witch!
Nessa had ridden away from the camp before I awoke, and Grimalkin, in a perfect simulacrum of the girl, had taken her place, just as she had in the arena. After slaughtering many of the Oussa and merchants, the witch had then led the slaves south towards the lands of the humans and freedom.
But she still had me to deal with.
She had broken her promise not to hinder me, and now I must pursue her and bring her to account.
It took me less than an hour to catch up with the witch and the escaped purrai.
She was riding at the head of the column of slaves, and there was another rider alongside her – surely it was Nessa. The hundred or so following them, walking two by two, carried sacks of provisions; they were dressed in sensible purrai clothes and were well-protected against the elements.
I began to charge towards the witch, passing along the left flank of the column, when, to my astonishment, the purrai broke formation and came between me and my enemy. Then, whooping and cheering, they began to hurl balls of snow in my direction, making my horse rear up in panic. It was astounding and unprecedented behaviour from purrai, and my mount, hardened by magic to face even the charge of a Shaiksa assassin, could not withstand the pelting of cold wet snow.
I was forced to retreat in order to bring the animal back under control. By the time I had done so, Grimalkin was already charging towards me, two blades held aloft, glittering with reflected light from the morning sun. But I had time to draw my sabre and urge my own mount forward so we came together hard and fast.
Neither of us managed to inflict any damage upon the other, and we came about quickly and began our second charge. The witch passed very close by on my left, and thrust at me viciously with a blade. However, using the last of my reserves of shakamure magic, I had already formed a magical shield and, positioning it perfectly, deflected her weapon, lunging towards her head as I did so.
She leaned away and I missed my target, but the tip of my sabre cut her shoulder, drawing blood. At that my heart sang with joy. Next time we passed I would finish her!
But as I faced my enemy again, I saw that now she wielded only one knife. Her other blade hadn’t shattered against my shield, so why had she put it away? Perhaps the wound I had inflicted upon her left shoulder meant that she could no longer hold a blade with that hand? No, she now held this one in her left hand.
Then I concentrated my vision and noted that in her right hand she now carried the skelt sword – the weapon that had broken the Kangadon. It would do the same to my shield. Nor was I comfortable fighting against a blade with a hilt fashioned in the image of Talkus; he who, once born into this world, would be the most powerful of all Kobalos gods.
It was ominous. Did it signify my death? I wondered.
It did no good to think upon such things now; so, gathering my resolve, I spurred my horse forward once more. Closer and closer we approached, the hooves of our mounts sending a fine spray of snow up into the air. Blood was running down Grimalkin’s left shoulder, but she was smiling.
My sabre would cut the smile from her face! I thought.
Then another horse was between us, forcing me to change direction, veering away to the left. It was Nessa. She galloped after me and we came to a halt some distance away.
I glanced back and saw that the witch had reined in her horse and was staring at us.
‘You fool!’ Nessa cried. ‘Stop this at once or she will kill you. You don’t have to die here. Return to your haizda and let us go on our way in peace.’
I was outraged by her words. She had called me a ‘fool’! Who was she to speak to me in this manner? But before I could vent my anger, Grimalkin had brought her mount alongside Nessa.
‘Keep away!’ she warned, pointing the skelt blade towards me. ‘Our trade is over, little mage, and you are no longer safe!’
‘You claimed to be one who kept to her word!’ I retorted angrily.
‘I did keep my word!’ the witch insisted. ‘Did I not keep my promise and help you to slay the Haggenbrood? And once we left your abominable city, I did nothing to impede what you consider to be your lawful business.’
‘You just play with words!’ I shouted. ‘I told you that I intended to sell Nessa in the slave market, as was my right. She was my chattel. And you replied that you would not hinder me in that.’
‘You sold a slave in Karpotha and thus discharged your duties under the law of Bindos. That is what is truly important. The fact that I was that slave matters nought. It was done and, with our trade completed, I was free to liberate the slaves from the kulad. And know this and remember it well: I cannot allow your people to continue to hold human slaves!
‘I declare war on the Kobalos. I go to forge the Star Blade, but once my business with this is done,’ she cried, holding up the sack, ‘I will return with my sisters and we will pull down the walls of Valkarky and kill all the Kobalos within! So remain at your haizda, mage! Keep away from that cursed city and you might live a little while longer! But now, lest we fight to the death prematurely, I would ask you a question. Why did you return to Karpotha and witness what I had done?’