The others were charging down the slope. Longbear hesitated. The old man shouted again. There were only three enemy. His strength would not be needed. Padding back through the trees he waited by the blind man. ‘What is happening?’ asked Gamal. Longbear glanced back. His troop was tearing into the Jiamads. Two enemy were down, the third fleeing. Then a volley of arrows soared out from the trees close by. Three of his troop went down. A rider galloped from the trees and leapt from the saddle, a slim, dark-haired Skin, dressed all in black and wielding two bright swords. The remaining three of Longbear’s Jiamads rushed the small man. Balla was the first to reach him. The swordsman ducked under Balla’s flailing arms and sent a disembowelling cut across Balla’s belly. Then, even before the Jiamad had fallen, he leapt towards the others. Longbear saw the dazzling swords flicker and rise and fall. Then the swordsman was standing alone. One Skin had killed three of his brethren in a matter of heartbeats.
‘Speak to me!’ whispered Gamal.
At first Longbear could find no words. The shock was immense. ‘A Skin. Two swords. All dead,’ he said.
‘Decado! We must get away from here. Fast! Can you carry us?’
Longbear dropped his quarterstaff and swept the old man up under one arm. Then he grabbed the girl and started to run. His legs were powerful, his stamina prodigious. Up through the wooded hills he ran, cutting left and right through the trees. On open ground for a while he sprinted on, over rocky outcrops, until at last even his great strength began to fade.
Releasing the old man and the girl he looked back for the first time. Darkness had fallen and he could see little. Closing his eyes he sniffed the wind. His nostrils quivered, separating the many scents of the forest. Some deer a little way to the west, a bighorn sheep, out of sight in a stand of rock. But he could scent no other humans, nor Jiamads.
Turning back to the human pair he smelt the blood on the woman. Hunger surged in him. His long tongue lolled from his mouth as he began to salivate. The woman had removed a small pack from her shoulder. From it she took a loaf of bread. As her hands delved deeper the scent of dry-cured meat came to him. Longbear watched as she produced a half-round of pink meat from the pack. ‘I have some ham and bread, lord,’ she said to Gamal.
‘Give the meat to Longbear,’ he said softly. ‘And tell him your name.’
Longbear stood silently. The golden-haired woman turned to stare at him. He could scent her fear in the sweet smell of sweat breaking out on her face and arms. ‘Would you like some ham?’ she said, moving nervously towards him, and extending her arm. ‘My name is Charis.’
Longbear did not speak to her. He snatched the ham, and moved away from the pair. Squatting down he tore at the meat, then gnawed at the bone beneath. It only partially sated his hunger.
The old man approached him. ‘Time for you to rest, my old friend,’ he said. Gently he laid his hand upon the jewel in Longbear’s temple. The familiar vibration began, soothing, warming. Longbear yawned and lay down. ‘Sleep, Longbear. Dream no dreams.’
Peace settled on the Jiamad, and he passed into darkness.
Charis sat very quietly with her back to a rock, staring at the sleeping Jiamad. The deep scratches in her side were stinging, and there was blood on the left side of her cream shirt. The night grew colder, and she drew her rust-coloured, hooded cloak around her shoulders. The shivering started then, but it was not caused just by the cold. The long day had been terrifying.
It seemed somehow inconceivable to her that only the previous evening she had been singing a song in the palace kitchens, as she and four other servants prepared the next day’s food packages for the loggers in the woods. The day had been bright and clear, a soft breeze blowing down from the mountains. Charis had been happy then. Life was good.
Then she had been sent to Landis Kan’s apartments with a tray of food, and a jug of wine. As she reached the apartment she realized there was no goblet upon the tray. Annoyed with herself, she had swung round to return to the kitchen. Then she remembered that there were several crystal goblets in the guest rooms close by. Moving to an empty apartment she opened the door and stepped inside, laying her tray on a table by the wall. She heard footfalls in the corridor outside, and peered round the half-open door. One of Landis Kan’s guests had returned, the dark-haired man with the cold eyes. Probably need two goblets now, she thought.
Decado entered Landis Kan’s apartment. Then Charis heard voices. She would never forget the words spoken.
‘ You said you would not kill me,’ she heard Landis Kan say, his voice trembling with fear.
‘ And I shall not,’ came the voice of a woman. ‘He will. Not a trace of flesh or bone to be left. I do not want him reborn.’
‘ As you order, so shall it be,’ she heard Decado reply.
‘ Do not make him suffer, Decado. Kill him swiftly, for he was once dear to me. Then find the blind man and kill him too.’
‘ The nephew, beloved. He insulted me. I want him too.’
‘ Kill him, my dear,’ said the woman’s voice. ‘But no-one else. Our troops will be here by morning. Try to remember that we will still need people to till the fields, and I would like servants to remain in the palace ready for my arrival. I do not want blind terror causing havoc here.’
Charis stood frozen to the spot. Then she heard a gurgling scream come from Landis Kan. Fleeing the room she raced along the corridor to the stairs leading to Gamal’s apartment. She did not wait to knock, but ran inside, finding the blind man sitting on his balcony. Swiftly she told him what had transpired, her words tumbling out almost incoherently.
‘I feared it would come to this,’ said the blind man, with a sigh. ‘Fetch me my cloak, Charis, and a stout pair of shoes. Get yourself a cloak also. You shall lead me into the hills. There is someone I must find.’
Now, following a night of terror and a day of death and bloodshed, Charis was sitting once more in the darkness, a terrible beast close by. The shivering worsened. Gamal came alongside her, placing his arm round her shoulder.
‘I am sorry, my dear, for all that you have suffered. But I could not have made it this far without you.’
Charis felt close to tears. Not this time through fear. The kindness and compassion in his voice created a shocking contrast to the horrors of the day. ‘Are we safe now?’ she whispered.
She saw his head tilt towards the sleeping beast, and noted the concern that showed on his weary face. He took a deep breath. ‘No, my dear, we are not safe. Longbear was once a friend of mine, but little of that man is left in the creature. We must be careful around him. Try not to react fearfully, and do not look directly into his eyes. All animals see that as a challenge or a threat. If we can find a food source I believe there will be less cause for concern.’
‘Where are we going, lord? There is nothing out here, save an old fortress and a few settlements.’
‘I need to find the young man who was at the palace recently.’
‘The one with the paintings on his skin?’
‘Yes.’
‘He is with Harad.’ Thoughts of Harad calmed her. She wished he was here now. The beast they travelled with would seem far less daunting if Harad was close by. ‘How will we find them?’
‘Tomorrow I shall ask Longbear to seek his scent. They met a few days ago. Now forgive me, child, but I am bone weary and must rest. You should try to do the same. Longbear will sleep at least until dawn.’ Gamal lay down, his head resting on his arm. His breathing deepened.
Once he was asleep it occurred to Charis that she could simply stand up and walk quietly away into the night. The deadly woman who had ordered the lord’s death had made it clear that no-one was to be needlessly killed. She had said something about ensuring that the palace servants continued their duties.