‘I think you are wrong,’ said Kaelin, irritation in his voice.
‘No, he’s not, Kaelin,’ put in Grymauch. ‘Fighting with fists is what he does. He couldn’t steal a bull or swing a glave like me. He couldn’t run as fast as you, nor ride as well as Mulgrave. Every man has his talent. There is no shame in being beaten by a man who has mastered his craft. It doesn’t make him a better man.’
Kaelin fell silent, and reached for a clay goblet and a water jug. As he did so one of the silver pistols in his belt dug into his ribs. Straightening, he pulled the pistol clear, laying it on a rock beside him. ‘May I see it?’ asked Chain. Kaelin picked up the piece and walked across to the fighter. The gun seemed small in Chain’s massive hand.
‘It was made by Emburley of Knight’s Walk,’ said Chain. ‘His mark is the silver lion rampant, which you can see on the pommel at the base of the grip.’
They are good pistols,’ said Jaim. ‘They belonged to Kaelin’s father.’
‘They are fine,’ said Chain. ‘Emburley’s engraved pistols sell for more than one hundred pounds apiece. A matched set would probably auction for two hundred and fifty.’
Kaelin was aghast at the sum. ‘That is madness,’ he said. ‘A pistol in Eldacre costs eight chaillings.’
‘I expect so,’ agreed Chain. ‘However, you can buy an old work horse for five chaillings. A proven racer will set you back a hundred times that. Maybe more. Emburley’s pieces are bought by kings and dukes and lords. They are prized for their accuracy and the perfection of their construction.’
‘That one misfired the last time I tried it.’
Chain hefted the piece and cocked it. Then he flicked open the cover of the flash bowl and examined it. ‘It will misfire the next time, too,’ he said. ‘Come and see.’ Kaelin moved alongside him. Chain lifted the pistol close to his eyes. ‘You see this little hole here?’
‘Yes.’
‘When the flash pan ignites a flame needs to pass through this hole to fire the main charge. As you can see, it is blocked. You have a pin?’
‘No.’
Jaim removed his cloak brooch and passed it to Chain, who gently inserted the brooch pin into the hole. ‘This tiny hole is vital,’ said Chain. ‘Like so much in life it is the small which dictates the success or failure of the large. There. Now it will work.’ Chain pressed shut the cover and carefully uncocked the weapon. Kaelin took out the second pistol and examined it. The fire hole seemed clear, but he inserted the brooch pin to be sure.
‘Always thoroughly clean the pistols after they have been discharged,’ said Chain. ‘Never leave them loaded for more than a day or two. The black powder is corrosive.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
‘So when do we leave?’ Chain asked Jaim.
‘Another hour. It will be safer when the night is at its darkest.’
‘Does this Huntsekker work alone?’
‘No. He has four men with him.’
‘What kind of weapons do they carry?’
‘Swords and knives. They are highlanders and not allowed guns. Huntsekker will have a gun, though. I saw it once. Half as long as a musket, with a trumpet-shaped barrel. Makes a noise like whistling thunder.’
‘Blunderbuss,’ said Chain. ‘The whistling is the sound of perhaps fifty tiny pieces of shot, tacks or small nails. At close range it will blow a man apart. At twenty feet it will pierce him from face to groin. You have a plan if we meet them?’
‘No,’ said Jaim cheerfully. ‘But I think fast when I need to.’
‘We kill them,’ said Kaelin. The words hung in the air, and the cave seemed suddenly quiet. Kaelin felt uncomfortable in the silence. Neither of the two men was looking in his direction. Jaim transferred his gaze to the far wall, apparently watching the fire shadows dancing there, while Chain Shada lifted a goblet of water and drank. After a while Jaim spoke – but not to Kaelin.
‘Maev has given me some coin for your journey,’ he told Chain. ‘I think it will be enough to see you to Varingas.’