Tailia’s eyes widened. ‘You never liked me, did you?’ she whispered. ‘You never liked any of us.’
‘I have no time for this nonsense,’ he said, touching heels to the gelding and moving ahead. He did not look back, and was not surprised when he heard the sound of her horse galloping off towards the north.
A few minutes later Shadak rode up from the south. ‘Where is she?’ asked the hunter, letting go of the reins of the two horses he was leading and allowing them to wander close by, cropping the long grass.
‘Riding for Padia,’ answered Druss. The hunter said nothing for a moment, but he gazed towards the north where Tailia could be seen as a tiny figure in the distance. ‘You’ll not talk her out of it,’ Druss said.
‘Did you send her away?’
‘No. She thinks we are both dead men, and she doesn’t want to risk being taken by the slavers.’
‘That’s a hard point to argue with,’ agreed Shadak. Then he shrugged. ‘Ah well, she chose her own road. Let us hope it was a wise one.’
‘What of the raiders?’ asked Druss, all thoughts of Tailia gone from his mind.
‘They rode through the night, and are heading due south. I think they will make camp by the Tigren, some thirty miles from here. There is a narrow valley opening on to a bowl-shaped canyon. It’s been used by slavers for years – and horse thieves, cattle stealers and renegades. It is easily defendable.’
‘How long until we reach them?’
‘Some time after midnight. We’ll move on for two more hours, then we’ll rest and eat before switching horses.’
‘I don’t need a rest.’
‘The horses do,’ said Shadak, ‘and so do I. Be patient. It will be a long night, and fraught with peril. And I have to tell you that our chances are not good. Tailia was right to be concerned for her safety; we will need more luck than any two men have a right to ask for.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ asked Druss. ‘The women are nothing to you.’ Shadak did not reply and they rode in silence until the sun was almost at noon. The hunter spotted a small grove of trees to the east and turned his horse; the two men dismounted in the shade of several spreading elms beside a rock pool.
‘How many did you kill back there?’ he asked Druss as they sat in the shade.
‘Six,’ answered the axeman, taking a strip of dried beef from the pouch at his side and tearing off a chunk.
‘You ever kill men before?’
‘No.’
‘Six is . . . impressive. What did you use?’ Druss chewed for a moment, then swallowed. ‘Felling-axe and a hatchet. Oh. . . and one of their daggers,’ he said at last. ‘And my hands.’
‘And you have had no training in combat?’
‘No.’
Shadak shook his head. Talk me through the fights – everything you can remember.’ Druss did so, Shadak listened in silence, and when the axeman had finished his tale the hunter smiled. ‘You are a rare young man. You positioned yourself well, in front of the fallen tree. That was a good move – the first of many, it seems. But the most impressive is the last. How did you know the swordsman would jump to your left?’
‘He saw I had an axe and that I was right-handed. In normal circumstances the axe would have been raised over my left shoulder and pulled down towards the right. Therefore he moved to his right – my left.’
‘That is cool thinking for a man in combat. I think there is a great deal of your grandfather in you.’
‘Don’t say that!’ growled Druss. ‘He was insane.’
‘He was also a brilliant fighting man. Yes, he was evil. But that does not lessen his courage and his skills.’
‘I am my own man,’ said Druss. ‘What I have is mine.’
‘I do not doubt it. But you have great strength, good timing and a warrior’s mind. These are gifts that pass from father to son, and on through the line. But know this, laddie, there are responsibilities that you must accept.’