Waylander 3 – Hero in the Shadows By David Gemmell

‘The Grey Man will kill you,’ she said, slowly, no trace of fear in her voice. The words carried certainty and he paused.

‘The Grey Man? Some demon of the night, perhaps? A protector of peasants?’

‘He is coming,’ she said.

He felt the prickle of fear on the nape hairs of his neck. ‘I suppose he is a giant, or some such?’

She did not reply. A movement came from the bushes to his left. Camran surged to his feet, heart pounding. But it was Okrian.

‘The men were wondering if you’d finished with her,’ said the sergeant, his small eyes focusing on the peasant girl.

‘No, I have not,’ said Camran. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

The sergeant shrugged and walked back to the campfire.

‘One more day of life,’ Camran told the girl. ‘Are you going to thank me?’

‘I am going to watch you die,’ she said.

Camran smiled, then punched her in the face, hurling her back to the ground. ‘Stupid peasant,’ he said.

But her words kept coming back to him, and the following morning’s ride found him constantly scanning the back trail. His neck was beginning to ache. Camran was about to heel his horse forward when he took one last look back. For a heartbeat only, he saw a shadow moving into the trees some half a mile down the trail. He blinked. Was it a horseman, or merely a wandering deer? He could not be sure. Camran swore softly, then summoned two of his riders. ‘Go back down the trail. There may be a man following. If there is, kill him.’

The men swung their mounts and rode away. Camran glanced at the girl. She was smiling.

‘What’s happening, sir?’ asked Okrian, nudging his horse alongside Camran’s mount.

‘Thought I saw a rider. Let’s move on.’

They rode through the afternoon, stopping for an hour to walk the horses, then made camp in a sheltered hollow, close to a stream. There was no sign of the two men Camran had sent out. He summoned Okrian to him. The big mercenary eased himself down alongside his captain and Camran told him about the girl’s warning. ‘Grey Man?’ he said. ‘Never heard of him. But, then, I don’t know this area of Kydor well. If he is following, the boys will get him. Tough lads.’

‘Then where are they?’

‘Probably dawdling somewhere. Or, if they caught him, they’re probably having a little fun with him. Perrin is said to be somewhat of an artist when it comes to the Blood Eagle. The men say he can open a man’s ribs, pin the guts back with twigs, and still leave the poor bastard alive for hours. Now, what about the girl, sir? The men could use a little diversion.’

‘Aye, take her,’ said Camran.

Okrian hauled her up by her hair and dragged her back to the campfire. A cheer went up from the nine men gathered there. Okrian hurled her towards them. The first man rose and grabbed her as she half fell. ‘Let’s see a little flesh,’ he shouted, tearing at her dress.

Suddenly the girl spun on her heel, slamming her elbow into the man’s face, crushing his nose. Blood spurted over his moustache and beard and he staggered back. The sergeant came up behind the girl, curling his arms around her and dragging her back into a tight embrace. Her head snapped back into his face, striking him on the cheekbone. He grabbed her hair and savagely twisted her head. The first man drew a dagger and advanced towards her. ‘You puking bitch,’ he snarled, ‘I’m going to cut you bad. Not enough so we can’t enjoy you, you little whore. But enough to make you scream like a gutted pig.’

The girl, unable to move, stared with undisguised malevolence at the knifeman. She did not beg or cry out.

Suddenly there was a crunching thud. The knifeman stopped, his expression bemused. Slowly he reached up with his left hand. As he did so he fell to his knees. His questing finger touched the black-feathered bolt jutting from the base of his skull. He tried to speak, but no words flowed. Then he pitched to his face.