A young warrior stepped from one of the buildings, startling his horse which reared and whinnied. Shadak calmed it and gazed upon the man. Although of average height he was powerfully built, his huge shoulders and mighty arms giving the impression of a giant. He wore a black leather jerkin and helm and carried a fearful axe. Shadak glanced swiftly around the corpse-strewn settlement. But there was no sign of a horse.
Lifting his leg, Shadak slid from the saddle. ‘Your friends leave you behind, laddie?’ he asked the axeman. The young man did not speak but stepped out into the open. Shadak looked into the man’s pale eyes and felt the unaccustomed thrill of fear.
The face beneath the helm was flat and expressionless, but power emanated from the young warrior. Shadak moved warily to his right, hands resting on the hilts of his short swords. ‘Proud of your handiwork, are you?’ he asked, trying to force the man into conversation. ‘Killed many babes today, did you?’
The young man’s brow furrowed. ‘This was my . . . my home,’ he said, his voice deep. ‘You are not one of the raiders?’
‘I am hunting them,’ said Shadak, surprised at the relief he felt.
‘They attacked Corialis looking for slaves, but the young women escaped them. The villagers fought hard. Seventeen of them died, but the attack was beaten off. My name is Shadak. Who are you?’
‘I am Druss. They took my wife. I’ll find them.’ Shadak glanced at the sky. ‘It’s getting dark. Best to start in the morning, we could lose their trail in the night.’
‘I’ll not wait,’ said the young man. ‘I need one of your horses.’ Shadak smiled grimly. ‘It is difficult to refuse when you ask so politely. But I think we should talk before you ride out.’
‘Why?’
‘Because there are many of them, laddie, and they do have a tendency to leave rearguards behind them, watching the road.’ Shadak pointed to the horses. ‘Four lay in wait for me.’
‘I’ll kill any I find.’
‘I take it they took all the young women, since I see no corpses here?’
‘Yes.’
Shadak hitched his horses to a rail and stepped past the young man into the home of Bress. ‘You’ll lose nothing by listening for a few minutes,’ he said.
Inside the building he righted the chairs and stopped. On the table was an old glove, made of lace and edged with pearls. ‘What’s this?’ he asked the cold-eyed young man.
‘It belonged to my mother. My father used to take it out now and again, and sit by the fire holding it. What did you want to talk about?’ Shadak sat down at the table. ‘The raiders are led by two men -Collan, a renegade Drenai officer, and Harib Ka, a Ventrian. They will be making for Mashrapur and the slave markets there. With all the captives they will not be able to move at speed and we will have little difficult catching them. But if we follow now, we will come upon them in the open. Two against forty – these are not odds to inspire confidence. They will push on through most of tonight, crossing the plain and reaching the long valley trails to Mashrapur late tomorrow. Then they will relax.’
‘They have my wife,’ said the young man. ‘I’ll not let them keep her for a heartbeat longer than necessary.’
Shadak shook his head and sighed. ‘Nor would I, laddie. But you know the country to the south. What chance would we have of rescuing her on the plains? They would see us coming from a mile away.’
For the first time the young man looked uncertain. Then he shrugged and sat, laying the great axe on the table-top, where it covered the tiny glove. ‘You are a soldier?’ he asked.
‘I was. Now I am a hunter – a hunter of men. Trust me. Now, how many women did they take?’
The young man thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps around thirty. They killed Berys in the woods. Tailia escaped. But I have not seen all the bodies. Maybe others were killed.’
‘Then let us think of thirty. It won’t be easy freeing them.’