‘How do you know it’s not me?’ the man asked, sneering.
Kiall’s temper flared. ‘I do not. I merely assumed the leader would have more than half a brain.’
‘You cowson!’ The man’s sword came up and Kiall leapt to the right, drawing his sabre.
‘Leave him be!’ roared a voice and the men froze. A tall man, dressed in black, came walking through the crowd which had gathered beyond the group.
‘What’s this to do with you?’ asked the swordsman.
‘I know this man,’ he answered, ‘and I do not want to see him killed.’ Kiall looked closely at the speaker. He was hawk-faced and lean, and a jagged scar showed on his cheek; his nose was hooked, his features dark and hard. But Kiall had never seen him before.
‘Why push that long nose of yours into another man’s business, Harokas?’ sneered the swordsman.
The man smiled coldly and drew his own sabre. ‘You brainless dolt, Githa! You never saw the day dawn when you could best me with a blade.’
Githa swallowed nervously and backed away, aware that he had gone too far.
‘Enough!’ bellowed Kiall, doing his best to copy the authoritative tone used by Chareos. Both men froze. ‘You,’ said Kiall, moving forward to stand before Githa. ‘Hand me the ring and go back to the ramparts.’ The man blinked sweat from his eyes and happily obliged. He did not look at Harokas, but sheathed his sword and hurried away. With the excitement over, the crowd dispersed. Harokas grinned and shook his head.
‘Not bad for a farm boy,’ he said. ‘Not bad at all. I see that Chareos has trained you well. Is he close by?’
‘Perhaps. Are you a friend of his?’
‘No, but I need to see him. I have been looking for you for almost four months.’
‘Why?’
‘I have a message from the Earl,’ said Harokas. He lifted a ladle of water from the bucket and sipped it. ‘But what are you doing here, Kiall, so far from home?’
‘If you are from the Earl, then you must know already. This is where the women from my village were taken.’
‘And you have come to win them back? How noble of you. A shame, though, that you have arrived too late. The last of them was sold off months ago. This is only a market town, Kiall. Every three months or so Nadir merchants and princes come here to buy slaves.’
Kiall swallowed back his frustration. ‘How is it then that you – an Earl’s man – are welcome here?’
‘I am welcome in many strange places. Come, I will take you to the leader you enquired about. Perhaps then you will find answers.’
Kiall followed the tall man through the alleyways and out into the main square. Here was the hall he had seen from the hill. Harokas entered the building and led Kiall to a curtained area at the rear.
A woman rose from a satin-covered divan and strode to meet them. Her hair was short-cropped and dark, her eyes wide and slanted, her lips full. She wore a black tunic belted at the waist, and her long legs were bare. Kiall blinked and tried not to stare at her. She stood before him, too close, and he shifted his feet, trying to put more distance between them. He looked into her eyes, noting that they were blue tinged with purple.
‘Well,’ said Harokas, ‘you have your wish, Kiall. Here is the leader you asked to meet.’
Kiall bowed, aware that he was blushing. ‘I am pleased to … that is … I …”
‘Is he retarded?’ she enquired of Harokas.
‘I do not believe so, Princess.’
‘What do you want here?’ she asked Kiall.
He took a deep breath. ‘I am seeking a woman.’
‘Does this look like a brothel?’ she snapped.
‘No. Not at all. I meant that I was seeking a special woman. She was taken from my village and I want to buy her back.”
‘To buy? Our prices here are high. Can you afford her?’
‘I believe that I can. How high?’
‘That would depend,’ said the woman, ‘on how beautiful she is.’
‘Her name is Ravenna. She is the most beautiful . . .’ He stumbled to a halt and found himself staring into her eyes. In that moment he realised that Ravenna could never be called beautiful, not when compared with the woman before him. He felt like a traitor even to think such thoughts. ‘She is … I think she is … beautiful,’ he stammered, at last.