Sieben paled. ‘He wouldn’t . . .’
‘He is a proud man, poet. And you have made a profound error.’
‘If he touches her I’ll kill him.’
‘Ah, how noble. The dog bares its fangs. You should never have wooed her. You do not even have the defence of being in love; you merely wanted to rut.’
‘Is that not what love is?’ countered Sieben.
‘For you, yes.’ Shadak shook his head. ‘I don’t believe you’ll ever understand it, Sieben. To love means giving, not receiving. Sharing your soul. But this argument is wasted on you, like teaching algebra to a chicken.’
‘Oh, please, don’t try to spare my feelings with pretty words. Just come right out with it!’
Shadak rose. ‘Bodasen is hiring warriors, mercenaries to fight in the Ventrian war. He has chartered a ship which will sail in twelve days. Lie low until then, and do not seek to see Evejorda again – not if you want her to live.’
The hunter moved towards the door, but Sieben called out, ‘You don’t think very highly of me, do you?’
Shadak half turned. ‘I think more of you than you think of yourself.’
‘I am too tired for riddles.’
‘You can’t forget Gulgothir.’
Sieben jerked as if struck, then lunged to his feet. ‘That is all past. It means nothing to me. You understand? Nothing!’
‘If you say so. I’ll see you in twelve days. The ship is called The Thunderchild. She will sail from Quay 12.’
‘I may be on it. I may not.’
‘A man always has two choices, my friend.’
*
‘No! No! No!’ roared Borcha. ‘You are still thrusting out that chin, and leading with your head.’ Stepping back from his opponent, Borcha swept up a towel and wiped the sweat from his face and head. ‘Try to understand, Druss, that if Grassin gets the opportunity he will take out one – or both – of your eyes. He will step in close, and as you charge he will strike with a sudden thrust, his thumb like a dagger.’
‘Let’s go again,’ said Druss.
‘No. You are too angry and it swamps your thoughts. Come and sit for a while.’
‘The light is fading,’ Druss pointed out.
‘Then let it fade. You are four days from the competition. Four days, Druss. In that time you must learn to control your temper. Winning is everything. It means nothing if an opponent sneers at you, or mocks you, or claims your mother sold herself to sailors. You understand? These insults are merely weapons in a fighter’s armoury. You will be goaded – because every fighter knows that his enemy’s rage is his greatest weakness.’
‘I can control it,’ snapped Druss.
‘A few moments ago you were fighting well – your balance was good, the punches crisp. Then I slapped you with a straight left . . . then another. The blows were too fast for your defences and they began to irritate you. Then the curve came back to your punches and you exposed your chin, your face.’
Druss sat beside the fighter and nodded. ‘You are right. But I do not like this sparring, this holding back. It does not feel real.’
‘It isn’t real, my friend, but it prepares the body for genuine combat.’ He slapped the younger man on the shoulder. ‘Do not despair; you are almost ready. I think your digging in the dirt has brought back your strength. How goes it at the clearing site?’
‘We finished today,’ said Druss. ‘Tomorrow the stonemasons and builders move in.’
‘On time. The Overseer must have been pleased – I know I am.’
‘Why should it please you?’
‘I own a third of the land. The value will rise sharply when the houses are completed.’ The bald fighter chuckled. ‘Were you happy with your bonus?’
‘Was that your doing?’ asked Druss suspiciously.
‘It is standard practice, Druss. The Overseer received fifty raq for completing within the time allocated. The charge-hand is usually offered one tenth of this sum.’
‘He gave me ten raq – in gold.’
‘Well, well, you must have impressed him.’
‘He asked me to stay on and supervise the digging of the footings.’