For a few heartbeats no one moved. The sergeant hurled the girl to the ground, and drew his sword. Another man, closer to the trees, grunted in shock and pain as a bolt speared his chest. He fell back, tried to rise, then gave out a gurgling scream as he died.
Camran, sword in hand, ran back to the fire, then charged into the undergrowth, his men fanning out around him.
All was silent, and there was no sign of an enemy.
‘Make for open ground!’ shouted Camran. The men ran back to their horses, saddling them swiftly. Camran grabbed the girl, forcing her to mount, then clambered up behind her and rode from the hollow.
Clouds drifted across the moon as the men raced through the forest. In the darkness they were forced to slow their flight. Camran saw a break in the trees, and angled his mount towards it, emerging on to a hillside. Okrian came close behind. As the other men broke through Camran counted them. Including himself and his sergeant, eight men were now clear of the trees. Flicking his gaze around the milling group he counted again. The killer had taken another victim during the flight.
Okrian removed his black leather helm and rubbed his hand across his balding pate. ‘Shem’s balls,’ he said. ‘We’ve lost five men and we’ve seen no one!’
Camran glanced around. They were in a circle of clear ground, but to progress in any direction they would have to re-enter the forest.
‘We’ll wait for the dawn,’ said Camran, dismounting. Dragging the girl from the saddle, he swung her round. ‘Who is this Grey Man?’ he asked. She did not reply and he slapped her hard. ‘Talk to me, you bitch,’ he hissed, ‘or I’ll cut open your belly and strangle you with your entrails!’
‘He owns all the valley,’ she said. ‘My brother, and the other men you killed, farmed for him.’
‘Describe him.’
‘He is tall. His hair is long, mostly grey.’
‘An old man?’
‘He does not move like an old man,’ she said. ‘But, yes, he is old.’
‘And how did you know he would be coming?’
‘Last year five men attacked a settlement north of the valley. They killed a man and his wife. The Grey Man followed them. When he returned he sent out a wagon and the bodies were brought back and displayed in the market square. Outlaws do not trouble us now. Only foreigners such as yourself would bring evil to the Grey Man’s land.’
‘Does he have a name?’ asked Camran.
‘He is the Grey Man,’ she said. ‘That is all I know.’
Camran moved away from her, and stared back at the shadow-haunted trees. Okrian joined him. ‘He can’t be everywhere at once,’ whispered Okrian. ‘Much will depend on which way we choose to travel. We were heading east, so perhaps we should change our plans.’
The mercenary captain drew a map from the pocket of his saddlebag and opened it out on the ground. They had been heading towards the eastern border and Qumtar, but now all Camran wished to see was an end to the tree-line. On open ground the assassin could not overcome eight armed men. He studied the map in the moonlight. ‘The nearest edge of the forest is to the north-east,’ he said. ‘Around two miles away. Once it is light we’ll make for it.’ Okrian nodded, but did not reply.
‘What are you thinking?’
The sergeant took a deep breath, then rubbed his hand across his face. ‘I was remembering the attack. Two crossbow bolts, one close upon the other. No time to reload. So, either there’s two men or it must be a double-winged weapon.’
‘If there’d been two men we’d have seen some sign as we rushed the undergrowth,’ said Camran. ‘They couldn’t both have avoided us.’
‘Exactly. So it is one man, who uses a double crossbow. One man – one skilled assassin who, having already killed the first two we sent, can then take out three tough men without being seen.’
‘I take it there is a point to this?’ muttered Camran.
‘There was a man, years ago, who used such a weapon. Some say he was killed. Others claim he left the lands of the Drenai and bought himself a palace in Gothir territory. But perhaps he came instead to Kydor.’