That was all!
The deaths of Pagan's people weighed heavily on him and he was determined to avenge them. Once he killed Ceska, the emperor's shade would be consigned to the Land of Shadow to serve the slain. A fitting punishment.
Pagan watched the beasts feed for a while, noting their movements, and learning all he could against the day when he must fight them. He was under no illusion — the day would come. Man against beast, head to head. The beast might be strong, swift and deadly. But then Kataskicana the King had earned the title Lord of War. For he was too strong, swift and deadly. But added to this, he was cunning.
Pagan eased his way back into the woods. Once there he froze, his wide nostrils flaring. His eyes narrowed and he slid his axe into his hand.
His horse was standing where he had left it, but the beast was quivering in fear, its ears flat against its skull and its eyes wide.
Pagan delved into his leather tunic, pulling clear a short, heavy throwing-knife. Licking his lips, he scanned the undergrowth. Hiding places close by were few; he was in one such, which left three other obvious places. So, he reasoned, he was facing a maximum of three opponents. Did they have bows? Unlikely, for they would have to stand, draw and loose at a swiftly moving target. Were they human? Unlikely, for the horse was terrified and mere men would not create such fear.
So then — a possible three Joinings crouched in the bushes ahead of him.
His decision made, Pagan stood up and walked towards his horse.
A Joining leapt from the bushes to his right and another rose from the left. They moved with incredible speed. Pagan spun on his heel, his right arm flashing down; the knife plunged into the right eye-socket of the first beast. The second was almost upon him when the black man dropped to his knees and dived forward, crashing into the creature's legs. The Joining pitched over him and Pagan rolled lashing the axe-blade deep into the beast's thigh. Then he was up and running. He tore the reins clear of the branches and vaulted to the saddle as the Joining ran at him. As Pagan leaned back in the saddle, tugging on the reins, the horse reared in terror, its hooves lashing at the beast and catching it full in the face. The Joining went down and Pagan heeled away his horse through the woods, ducking under overhanging branches. Once clear, he galloped to the west.
The gods had been with him, for he had seriously miscalculated. Had there been three Joinings he would have been dead. He had aimed the knife for the beast's throat, but so swift had been its charge that he had almost missed the target altogether.
Pagan slowed his horse as the burning city fell away behind him.
All over the lowlands would be the scouts of Ceska. He had no wish to gallop into a greater danger than that from which he fled. He patted the horse's neck.
He had left Scaler with the Cheiam. The new Earl of Bronze had grown in stature and his plans for taking the fortress were well-advanced. Whether or not they would work was another matter, but at least Scaler was tackling them with confidence. Pagan chuckled. The young Drenai was more than convincing in his new role and Pagan could almost believe that he really was the legendary Earl.
Almost. Pagan chuckled again.
Towards dusk he moved into a section of trees near a stream. He had seen no sign of the enemy and he scouted the area carefully. But a surprise lay in wait for him as he rode into a small hollow.
Some twenty children were seated around the body of a man.
Pagan dismounted and tethered his horse. A tall boy stepped forward, a dagger in his hand.
'Touch him and I will kill you!' said the boy.
'I will not touch him,' said Pagan. 'Put up the knife.'
'Are you a Joining?'
'No, I am merely a man.'
'You don't look like a man — you're black.'
Pagan nodded solemnly. 'Indeed I am. You, on the other hand are white and very small. I don't doubt your bravery, but do you really think you can stand against me?'
The boy licked his lips, but stood his ground.
'If I was your enemy, boy, I would have killed you by now. Stand aside.' He walked forward, ignoring the lad as he knelt by the body. The dead man was thickset and balding, his large hands locked on his jerkin.
'What happened?' Pagan asked a little girl sitting closest to the body. She looked away and the boy with the knife spoke.
'He brought us here yesterday. He said we could hide until the beasts went away. But this morning, as he was playing with Melissa, he clutched his chest and fell.'
'It wasn't me,' said Melissa. 'I didn't do anything!'
Pagan ruffled the child's mousy-blonde hair. 'Of course you didn't. Did you bring food with you?'
'Yes,' answered the boy. 'It's over there in the cave.'
'My name is Pagan and I am a friend of Darkmask.'
'Will you look after us?' asked Melissa. Pagan smiled at her, then stood and stretched. The Joinings would be on the loose now and he had no chance of avoiding them on foot with twenty children in tow. He strode to the top of a nearby hill, shading his eyes to view the mountains. It would take them at least two days to walk that distance — two days out in the open. He turned to see the boy with the knife sitting on a rock behind him. He was tall and about eleven years of age.
'You didn't answer Melissa's question,' said the boy.
'What is your name, lad?'
'Ceorl. Will you help us?'
'I don't know that I can,' answered Pagan.
'I cannot do it all by myself,' said Ceorl, his grey eyes locked on Pagan's face.
Pagan sat down on the grass. Try to understand, Ceorl. There is virtually no way that we can make it to the mountains. The Joinings are like beasts of the jungle; they track by scent, they move fast and range wide. I have a message to deliver to Dark-mask; I am involved in the war. I have my own mission and have sworn to see it through.'
'Excuses!' said Ceorl. 'Always excuses. Well, I will get them there — trust me.'
'I will stay with you for a little while,' said Pagan. 'But be warned: I don't much like children chattering around me — it makes me irritable.'
'You can't stop Melissa chattering. She is very young and very frightened.'
'And you are not frightened?'
'I am a man,' said Ceorl. 'I gave up crying years ago.'
Pagan nodded and smoothly rose to his feet. 'Let's get the food and be on our way.'
Together they gathered together the children. Each child carried a small rucksack of food and a canteen of water. Pagan lifted Melissa and two other toddlers to the horse's back and led them out on to the plain. The wind was at their backs, which was good. . unless there were Joinings ahead of them. Ceorl was right about Melissa; she chattered on and on, telling Pagan stories he could scarcely follow. Towards the evening she began to sway in the saddle and Pagan lifted her clear and held her to his chest.
They had covered maybe three miles when Ceorl ran alongside Pagan and tugged his sleeve.
'What is it?'
'They are very tired. I just saw Ariane sit down beside the trail back there — I think she's gone to sleep.'
'All right. Go back and get her — we will camp here.'
The children huddled in together around Pagan as he laid Melissa down on the grass. The night was cool, but not cold.
'Will you tell us a story?' asked the girl.
Keeping his voice soft, he told them of the Moon Goddess who came down to earth on silver steps to live the life of a mortal. There she met the handsome warrior prince Anidigo. He loved her as no man has loved a woman since, but she was coy and fled from him. Up into the sky she rose in a silver chariot, perfectly round. He could not follow and went to see a wise wizard who made him a chariot of pure gold. Anidigo swore that until he had won the heart of the Moon Goddess he would never return. His golden chariot, also perfectly round, soared into the sky like a gleaming ball of fire. Round and round the earth he went, but always she was ahead of him. Even to this day.