'Stand up,' ordered Ulmenetha. Antikas did so. The priestess came to her knees, and began to stitch the wound, beginning first at the centre, drawing the flaps of skin together. Antikas looked across at Nogusta, and their eyes met.
'He died well,' said Antikas.
'I know.'
'Good, for I am too tired to discuss it further.' He winced as Ulmenetha drew tight the centre stitch. 'You are not knitting a rug, woman,' he snapped.
'I'll wager you did not whine so when the Krayakin faced you,' she responded. Antikas grinned, but said nothing. Three more stitches were inserted, then Ulmenetha laid a slender hand over the wound, and began to chant in a low voice. Antikas glanced down at the priestess, then gave a questioning look to Nogusta. The black man had turned away and was untying the bundle of wood.
Antikas felt a tingling sensation begin in the wound, heat flaring from it. It was mildly uncomfortable, but not at all painful. After some minutes Ulmenetha removed her hand, then, with a small knife, cut the stitches and pulled them clear. Antikas touched the cut. It was almost healed. More than this he felt curiously rejuvenated, as if he had slept for several hours.
'You are very talented, lady,' he said.
'You should see me knitting a rug,' she answered, rising to stand before him. She repeated the Healing Prayer on the smaller chest wounds, then reached up to pull clear the blood-stained satin strip around his brow. 'Bend your head,' she ordered him. Antikas obeyed.
As she healed the cut she spoke again. 'You are a lucky man, Antikas. Had the blow been two inches lower you would have lost an eye.'
'Strangely, the more I practise the luckier I get,' he said.
Ulmenetha stepped back from him, and appraised her work. Satisfied she moved back to the fire and sat down. 'Had you remained at the bridge you might have saved Dagorian,' he said. Ulmenetha shook her head.
'His internal injuries were far beyond my powers.' So saying she turned away from him. Kebra handed him a clean, folded tunic of off-white wool. Antikas thanked him. Lifting it to his nose he smiled. 'Scented rosewood,' he said. 'How civilized. You are a man after my own heart.'
'Probably not,' said Kebra.
Antikas slipped on the shirt. The arms were too long, and he folded back the cuffs. 'Well, Nogusta,' he said, 'what now? What do your visions tell you?'
'We go to the ghost city,' answered Nogusta. 'That is all I can say. I do not yet know the outcome of this quest. But all questions will be answered in Lem.'
The child sleeping beside Bison suddenly cried out and sat up. The girl beside her awoke, and took her in her arms. 'What is wrong, Sufia?' she asked, stroking the child's blond hair.
'I had a dream. Demons in my dream. They were eating me up.' The child began to cry. Then she saw Antikas, and her eyes widened.
'Hello,' said Antikas, giving her his best smile. Sufia let out a wail and buried her head in Pharis's chest. 'I've always had a way with children,' said Antikas, drily.
The noise awoke Bison, who gave a great yawn, then belched loudly. He too saw Antikas, and looked around for Dagorian. Rising he scratched at his groin then moved to the fire, where he belched again. 'Killed 'em all, did you?' he asked Antikas.
'One of them. A huge beast came from the forest and slaughtered the others.'
Fear showed in Bison's face. 'Is it still alive?'
'No. It fell into the river and drowned.'
'Well, that's a relief,' said Bison. 'Almost makes up for the fact that you survived. Where is the lad, Dagorian?'
'He died.'
Bison absorbed the information without comment, then swung to Kebra. 'Is there any broth left?'
'No, Antikas ate the last of it.'
'What about the biscuits?'
'A few left,' said Kebra. 'But we are saving them for the morning. The children can have them for breakfast.'
Antikas removed his sword belt, and laid it beside him. There are four more Krayakin,' he said. 'Believe me, Nogusta, that is four too many. I fought one. He had a sense of honour, and removed his armour to fight me. He was faster than any man I have ever known. I am not sure I could defeat another, and I certainly could not defeat more than one.'
'What then do you suggest?' asked Nogusta.
'I have no suggestions. What I am saying is that I treated them too lightly. I thought of them merely as men, and there is no man more skilled than I. But they are not men. Their reflexes are astonishing, and their strength prodigious.'
'And yet we must face them,' said Nogusta. 'We have no choice.'
'Whatever you say,' said Antikas. He stretched out beside the fire, then glanced up at Bison. 'We could always send him against them,' he said. 'His body odour would fell an ox.'
Bison glared at him. 'I'm beginning to really dislike you, little man,' he said.
Breakfast was a sorry affair, with the last of the oatcake biscuits being shared by Sufia, Pharis and Conalin. Pharis offered hers to the queen, but Axiana smiled and shook her head. Bison grumbled about starvation as he saddled the horses.
As she finished her food little Sufia climbed onto Ulmenetha's lap. 'Did you sleep well, in the end, little one?' asked the priestess.
'Yes. I didn't dream no more. It's very cold,' she added, snuggling close. The last of the wood had long burnt away, and the temperature in the cave was dropping fast.
'We are going down into the valleys today,' Ulmenetha told her. 'It will be much warmer there.'
'I'm still hungry.'
'We are all hungry.' Sufia gave a nervous glance across at Antikas. 'He looks like a demon,' she said. Antikas heard her and gave her a grin. She scowled at him from the perceived safety of Ulmenetha's lap.
'I am not a demon,' said Antikas. 'I am earth born, as you are.'
'What does that mean?' Sufia asked the priestess.
'It means that we come from the earth, whereas demons are born of the wind. We are solid. We can touch things. Demons are like the wind. They can blow against us, but they cannot live and breathe as we do.'
Pharis came and sat alongside them. 'If that is true, how can the Krayakin fight us? Are they not solid?'
'There is an old story,' said Antikas, 'that my father used to tell. It is part of Ventrian history and myth. Once there were two Windborn gods, great and powerful. They floated above the earth, and watched the deer and the lion, the eagle and the lamb. They were envious of them, and their ability to walk the land. These gods had many Windborn subjects, and they too looked upon the earth with jealousy. One day the two gods — who did not like one another. .'
'Why didn't they like one another?' asked Sufia.
'That's not important. Anyway. .'
'I think it is important,' said Pharis. 'Why would gods not like one another?'
Antikas suppressed his irritation. 'Very well, let us say that one of the gods was evil, the other good. One was a lord of chaos and destruction, while the other loved the light, and delighted to see things grow. They were like night and day.'
'All right,' said Pharis. 'I can understand that. Go on.'
'Thank you. One day these gods decided to use their great power to cast a spell that would allow their people, the Illohir, to take on fleshly forms. These spirit beings floated down to the earth, and wherever they landed they drew matter to themselves, creating bodies that could walk upon the earth.'