‘Indeed he was, highness,’ the black man told her. ‘Now let us return to the fire.’
The stew was served upon pewter plates and Axiana ate with relish. She asked for wine, and Ulmenetha apologized for forgetting to bring any. Instead she drank a cup of water from the stream. It was cool and pleasant. Ulmenetha prepared a bed for her beside the fire. Dagorian made a small hollow for her hip beneath the blankets. Resting her head on a rolled blanket pillow Axiana lay quietly listening to the conversation around the fire. She heard the words. The child, Sufia, was asleep beside her, the boy Conalin sitting watching over her.
‘I saw a bear today,’ Axiana told him, sleepily.
‘Go to sleep,’ said the boy.
Bison added a log to the fire as Kebra collected the pewter plates and carried them to the stream for cleaning. The giant cast a furtive glance at Nogusta, who was sitting quietly, his back to the cliff wall. Dagorian and Ulmenetha were whispering to one another, and Bison could not make out the words. Bison was confused by the events of the day. Nogusta had woken them early, and they had set off back towards the city. ‘The queen is in danger,’ was all the black man had said, and the ride had been fast, with no time for conversation. Bison was not a rider. He hated horses. Almost as much as he hated sleeping on the ground in winter, he realized. His shoulder ached, and he had a deep, nagging pain in his lower back.
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Bison glanced towards where the queen was sleeping, the children stretched out alongside her. None of this made any sense to the giant. Skanda was dead – which served him right for putting his faith in Ventrians and sending all the best soldiers home. But this talk of wizards and demons and sacrifices made Bison uncomfortable. It was a known fact that men couldn’t fight demons.
‘What are we going to do?’ he asked Nogusta.
‘About what?’ countered the black man.
‘About all this!’ said Bison, gesturing towards the sleepers.
‘We’ll take them to the coast and find a ship bound for Drenan.’
‘Oh, really? Just like that?’ snapped Bison, his anger growing. ‘We’ve probably got the entire Ventrian army on our heels and demons to boot. And we’re travelling with a pregnant woman who’s lost her mind. Oh . . . and did I mention the fact that we’re also saddled with the slowest wagon in Ventria?’
‘She hasn’t lost her mind, you oaf,’ said Ulmenetha, icily. ‘She is in shock. It will pass.’
‘She’s in shock? What about me? I was kicked out of the army. I’m not a soldier any more. That was a shock I can tell you. But I haven’t started singing to bears yet.’
‘You are not a sensitive seventeen-year-old girl, heavily pregnant,’ said Ulmenetha, ‘who has been torn from her home.’
‘I didn’t tear her from her home,’ objected Bison. ‘She can go back for all I care. So can you, you fat cow.’
‘What do you suggest, my friend?’ asked Nogusta, softly.
The question threw Bison. He was not used to being asked for opinions, and he didn’t really have one. But he
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was angry at the fat woman for calling him an oaf. ‘We ought to ride on. She’s not Drenai, is she? None of them are.’
‘I am,’ said Ulmenetha, her voice edged with contempt. ‘But then that is not the issue, is it?’
‘Issue? What’s she talking about?’ Bison demanded.
‘This isn’t about nationalities,’ said Dagorian. ‘The demons desire to sacrifice the queen’s child. You understand? If they succeed the world will slide down into horror. All the evils we know from legends, the Shape-Shifters, the Hollow Tooths, the Krandyl … all will return. We must protect her.’
‘Protect her? There are four of us! How are we going to protect her?’
‘The best way we can,’ said Nogusta. ‘But you do not have to stay, my friend. Your life is free. You can ride away. You are not held here by chains.’
The conversation was heading along a path Bison didn’t like. He had no wish to leave his friends, and was surprised that Nogusta would even suggest it. ‘I can’t read maps,’ he objected. ‘I don’t even know where we are now. I want to know why we should stay with her.’