‘I know all the brooches. But tell me, Conn. What would you have done had they tried to rob us?’
‘I would have stabbed the man to the left of the leader,’ answered Conn, swiftly.
‘Why him?’
‘Because you would have charged your pony into the leader’s mount, causing it to swerve to the right, blocking the others. The only man free to draw his weapon and attack you would have been the rider on the left.’
Banouin took a deep breath. ‘A good assessment. Conn. You are learning fast. Now let us move on.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
for THE FIRST FIVE NIGHTS THE TRAVELLERS CAMPED ON OPEN
ground, but on the sixth they stayed at a small settlement known to Banouin. Some eighty people had built their homes on the banks of a wide river, earning their living by fishing the waters, or towing barges down to Goriasa. The people here were swarthy, and Banouin told Conn they had originally – many hundreds of years before – journeyed from the eastern mountains, where they had been a nomadic people. They were friendly, and invited Conn and Banouin to join them for their communal meal, taken in a long, wooden hall, thatched with dried grass. At the end of the meal – black bread dipped in fish stew – several musical instruments were brought out and a lean fisherman sang ballads in a deep baritone. When the songs were finished the people stamped their feet in praise, then went off to their homes. Banouin and Conn remained, in the company of the village leader, a powerfully built, black-bearded man, named Camoe. His two young wives cleared away the plates and Camoe offered his visitors jugs of beer. The drink was stale and flat, and Conn barely sipped it.
‘How far are you travelling?’ Camoe asked Banouin.
‘All the way to Stone.’
‘Dangerous country you will be passing through,’ said Camoe. ‘Stone army is advancing on the people of the Perdii river. Big battles coming, I think.’
‘I am well known to the Perdii,’ said Banouin. ‘Their king, Alea, is an old friend of mine.’
‘Alea is dead,’ said Camoe. ‘Drowned, they say.’
‘I am sorry to hear that. He was a good man. Who is king now?’
Camoe shrugged. ‘I have not heard. But it is said they have a hundred thousand fighting men waiting to rip the hearts from the Stone men. I think they won’t do it. I think this Jasaray is a devil in human form.’
‘He is not a devil,’ said Banouin, ‘but he is a wily general.’
‘How long before they come here, you think?’
Banouin spread his hands. ‘Two years, maybe. But they won’t trouble you, Camoe. They will buy your fish.’
‘They will trouble all of us, Foreigner. I am Gath. I will fight when called.’ His gaze flickered to the small pack at Banouin’s side. ‘This beer turns the stomach. I remember when we had a fine harvest of redfish and we bought several jugs of amber fire. Good days.’
‘It so happens,’ said Banouin, ‘that I remembered your fondness for it.’ Digging into the pack he produced two jugs of uisge that had been wrapped in straw, and tossed one to Camoe. The village leader broke the wax seal and hefted the jug to his lips. He took several swallows.
‘Oh but that is good,’ he said. ‘It burns wonderfully all the way down. How much do I owe you?’
‘Not a copper coin, my friend. It was good to see you again. There is a second jug in the pack, for you to enjoy when we are gone.’
Camoe leaned forward and thumped Banouin’s shoulder. ‘You are too good to be a Stone man. Are you sure you weren’t adopted?’
The travellers slept that night in the hall, and then continued their journey east. The further they travelled the more they heard of the advancing army of Stone. Jasaray was said to be assembling an army of fifteen thousand men. It would be vastly outnumbered by the Perdii.
‘Perhaps they will be crushed,’ said Conn, ‘their threat ended.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Banouin, drawing on the reins and dismounting to give the pony a breather. Conn joined him.