Karnak shook his head. ‘Such an action would sully my reputation, turn the people against me. There’s no way it could be kept secret. No, my friends, I think we’ll have to rely on stout hearts and sharp swords. And luck, let’s not forget that! But in the meantime, find Bodalen.’
‘He probably believes he’s safer in hiding,’ said Asten.
‘Find him and convince him otherwise,’ ordered Karnak.
*
Waylander banked up the fire and settled back against the boulder, watching the sleeping Nadir. Belash had tried to keep up, but had fallen several times, vomiting beside the trail. The blows to the head had weakened the warrior and Waylander had helped him to a sheltered hollow.
‘Your skull may be cracked,’ said Waylander, as the man lay shivering beside the fire.
‘No.’
‘It’s not made of stone, Beiash.’
‘Tomorrow I will be strong,’ promised the Nadir. In the dying light of the sun his face was grey, dark streaks colouring the skin beneath his slanted eyes.
Waylander touched the man’s throat. The pulse was strong, but erratic. ‘Sleep,’ he said, covering the man with his cloak. The flames licked hungrily at the dry wood and Waylander reached out his hands, enjoying the warmth. The hound lay at his side, huge head on massive paws. Idly Waylander stroked the beast’s ruined ears. A low rumbling growl came from its throat. ‘Quiet,’ said Waylander, smiling. ‘You know you enjoy it, so stop complaining.’
He gazed at the sleeping Nadir. I should have killed you, he thought idly, but he did not regret allowing the man to live. There was something about Belash that struck a chord in him. A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision. Waylander glanced to his left. Sitting by the fire was a hooded old woman, her face a remarkable picture of ancient decay and ugliness, her teeth rotten, her nose swollen and blue-veined, her eyes rheumy and yellow.
‘You move silently, Hewla,’ whispered Waylander.
‘No, I don’t. I move like an old crone with my joints cracking like dry twigs.’
‘I did not hear you.’
‘That’s because I’m not here, child,’ she told him, reaching out her hand and thrusting it into the flames, which danced and flickered through suddenly transparent skin and bone. ‘I am sitting by my own fire, in my own cabin.’
‘What do you require of me?’
Her eyes glinted with amusement, her mouth forming the parody of a smile. ‘Not impressed with my magic? How dull. You have no inkling of the concentration needed to produce this image. But do your eyes widen in wonder? Do you sit there jaw agape in amazement? No. You ask what I require. What makes you think I require anything, child? Perhaps I felt in need of company.’
‘Unlikely,’ he said, with a wry smile. ‘But you are welcome whatever. Are you well?’
‘When you are four hundred and eleven years old the question is irrelevant. I haven’t been well since the old King’s grandfather was a child. I’m just too stubborn to die.’ She glanced at the sleeping Nadir. ‘He dreams of killing you,’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘His dreams are his own affair.’
‘You are a strange man, Waylander. Still, the dog likes you.’
He chuckled. ‘He’ll make a better friend than most men.’
‘Aye.’ The old woman fell silent, but her gaze remained on the black-garbed warrior. ‘I always liked you, child,’ she said softly. ‘You never feared me. I was sorry to hear of the death of your lady.’
He looked away. ‘Life moves on,’ he said.
‘Indeed it does. Morak will come again. He is no coward, but he likes to be sure. And Senta is even now approaching your cabin. What will you do?’
‘What do you think?’ he countered.
‘You’ll fight them until they kill you. Not the most subtle of plans, is it?’
‘I never was a man suited to subtlety.’
‘Nonsense. It’s just that you have always been a little in love with death. Perhaps it would help to know why they are hunting you?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘You won’t know unless I tell you!’ she snapped.
‘Then tell me.’
‘Karnak has a son, Bodalen. He is allied to the Brotherhood. He and some friends were riding near a village, south of Drenan. They saw a young woman gathering herbs. The men had been drinking, and she aroused their lust. They chased her. She turned and fought, breaking one man’s jaw. Then she ran. Bodalen followed her. As she fled she glanced back, lost her footing, and fell. She tumbled over the edge of a rock-face. Her neck was broken in the fall. Her husband came upon the scene. He was unarmed. The men killed him, leaving him by her body. You hear what I am saying?’