while the grey horse reared, uttered a shrill, demonic scream, and clattered
off by the time Zaibar’s hand had said head: human; and his eyes had
said, head: Razkuli’s and then begun to fill with tears.
Kadakithis listened to his story, looking beyond him out of the window the
entire time. When Zaibar had finished, the prince said, ‘Well, I don’t know what
you expected, trying to take him down so clumsily.’
‘But he said it was a message for me,’ Zaibar entreated, caught his own pleading
tone, scowled and straightened up.
‘Then take it to heart, man. I can’t allow you two to continue feuding. If it is
anything other than simple feuding, I do not want to know about it. Stepson,
called Abarsis, told me to expect something like this! I demand a stop to it!’
‘Stepson!’ Tall, lank Zaibar snarled like a man invoking a vengeful god in close
fighting. ‘An ex-Sacred Bander looking for glory and death with honour, in no
particular order! Stepson told you? The Slaughter Priest? My lord prince, you
are keeping deadly company these days! Are all the gods of the armies in
Sanctuary, then, along with their familiars, the mercenary hordes? I had wanted
to discuss with you what could be done to curb them-‘
‘Zaibar,’ interrupted Kadakithis firmly. ‘In the matter of gods, I hold firm: I
do not believe in them. In the matter of mercenaries, let them be. You broach
subjects too sensitive for your station. In the matter of Tempus, I will talk to
him. You change your attitude. Now, if that is all… ?’
It was all. It was nearly the end of Zaibar the Hell Hound’s entire career; he