‘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.’
A sound from outside made both men turn as a young woman entered the room. Shadak rose. The woman was fair-haired and pretty, and there was blood upon her blue woollen skirt and her shirt of white linen.
‘Yorath died,’ she told the young man. ‘They’re all dead, Druss.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she stood in the doorway looking lost and forlorn. Druss did not move, but Shadak stepped swiftly towards her, taking her in his arms and stroking her back.
He led her into the room and sat her at the table. ‘Is there any food here?’ he asked Druss. The young man nodded and moved through to the back room, returning with a pitcher of water and some bread. Shadak filled a clay cup with water and told the girl to drink. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘The blood is Yorath’s,’ she whispered. Shadak sat beside her and Tailia sagged against him; she was exhausted.
‘You need to rest,’ he told her gently, helping her to rise and leading her through the building to a small bedroom. Obediently she lay down, and he covered her with a thick blanket. ‘Sleep, child. I will be here.’
‘Don’t leave me,’ she pleaded.
He took her hand. ‘You are safe . . . Tailia. Sleep.’ She closed her eyes, but clung to his hand, and Shadak sat with her until the grip eased and her breathing deepened. At last he stood and returned to the outer room.
‘You were planning to leave her behind?’ he asked the young man.