‘Luck,’ answered Subodai, spitting more ants from his mouth. ‘Pony broke a leg and then four of them jumped me.’
‘Only four?’
‘I have not been well!’
‘I think I will dig you free.’
‘Not a wise move, Wolfshead! I may be forced to kill you.’
‘I am not concerned by any man who is captured by a mere four Pack-rats. Renya, dig him out.’
Tenaka moved back to sit down cross-legged on the ground, staring at the hills. There was no sign of movement, but he knew they were watching him. He stretched his injured back – over the last five days it had eased greatly.
Renya scraped away the hard-packed earth, freeing the man’s arms which were bound behind him. Once free, he pushed her away and struggled until he had pulled himself clear. Without a word to Renya he walked to Tenaka and squatted down.
‘I have decided not to kill you,’ said Subodai.
‘You have great wisdom for a Spear,’ said Tenaka, without taking his gaze from the hills.
‘This is true. I see your woman is a Drenai. Soft!’
‘I like soft women.’
‘There is something to be said for them,’ agreed Subodai. ‘Will you sell me a sword?’
‘With what will you pay me?’
‘I will give you a Pack-rat pony.’
‘Your generosity is matched only by your confidence,’ observed Tenaka.
‘You are Bladedancer, the Drenai half-blood,’ observed Subodia, removing his belted fur jacket and brushing more ants from his squat, powerful body.
Tenaka did not bother to reply; he was watching the dust swirl up in the hills as men took to their horses.
‘More than four,’ said Subodai. ‘About that sword . . . ?’
‘They are leaving,’ said Tenaka. ‘They will return in greater numbers.’ Rising to his feet, he walked to his horse and vaulted to the saddle. ‘Goodbye, Subodai!’
‘Wait!’ called the Nadir. ‘The sword?’
‘You have not paid me the pony.’
‘I will – given time.’
‘I have not time. What else can you offer?’
Subodai was trapped. Left here without a weapon, he would be dead within the hour. He contemplated leaping at Tenaka, but dismissed the idea – the violet eyes were disconcerting in their confidence.
‘I have nothing else,’ he said. ‘But you have a thought, I can tell.’
‘Be my bondsman for ten days and lead me to the Wolves,’ suggested Tenaka.
Subodai hawked and spat. ‘That sounds marginally more appealing than dying here. Ten days, you say?’
Ten days.’
‘With today counting as one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I agree.’ Subodai raised his hand and Tenaka took it, hauling him into the saddle behind him. ‘I’m glad my father is no longer alive to see this day,’ muttered the Nadir.
As they cantered off to the north Subodai thought about his father. A strong man and a fine rider -but such a temper.
It was his temper that killed him. After a horserace, which Subodai won, his father had accused him of loosening the saddle-cinch on his own mare. The argument had blown up into a full-scale fight with fists and knives.
Subodai still remembered the look of surprise on his father’s face as his son’s knife rammed home in his chest. A man should always know when to control his temper.
The Nadir twisted in the saddle, his black eyes resting on Renya. Now there was a good woman! Not good for the Steppes, maybe – but good for plenty else.
For nine days more he would serve Bladedancer. After that he would kill him and take his woman.
He turned his gaze to the mounts. They were fine beasts. He grinned suddenly as the full joy of life settled over him once more.
The woman he would take.
The horses he would keep.
For they would be worth riding more than once.
*
Lake was sweating heavily as he cranked the thick wooden handle, dragging the bow-arm and the twined leather back to the hook. A young man in a leather apron passed him a loosely tied bundle of fifty arrows, which Lake placed in the bowl of the device. Thirty feet down the room, two assistants lifted a thick wooden door into place against the far wall.