‘You weren’t planning to kill Angel! You were ready to die.’
His smile faded and he shrugged. ‘You asked me to spare him, beauty. I thought perhaps you loved him.’
‘You didn’t even know me – you don’t know me now. How could you be prepared to lay down your life in that way?’
‘Do not be too impressed. I like the old man. And I would have tried to disarm him, wound him maybe.’
‘He would have killed you.’
‘Would you have been sorry?’
‘No-not then.’
‘But you would be now?’
‘I don’t know … yes. But not because I love you. You have had many women – and you have told them all that you loved them. Would you have died for them?’
‘Perhaps. I have always been a romantic. But with you it is different. I know that.’
‘I do not believe love can strike that swiftly,’ she said.
‘Love is a strange beast, Miriel. Sometimes it leaps from hiding and strikes like a sudden spear. At other times it can creep up on you, slowly, skilfully.’
‘Like an assassin?’
‘Indeed so,’ he agreed with a bright smile.
11
Jahunda notched an arrow to his bowstring and waited for the rider to emerge from the trees. His fingers were cold, but his blood ran hot with the hunt. The Drenai had chosen his route with care, avoiding the wide, much-used paths, and holding to the narrow deer-trails. But even so Jahunda had spotted him, for the Lord Sathuli had ordered him to watch the south from Chasica Peak, and no one could enter Sathuli lands from the Sentran Plain without being observed from Chasica. It was a great honour to be so trusted – especially for a fourteen-year-old with no blood kills to his name. But the Lord Sathuli knows I will be a great warrior and hunter, thought Jahunda. And he chose me for this task.
Jahunda had sent up a signal smoke then clambered down from the peak, making his way carefully to the first ambush site. But the Drenai had cut to the right, angling up into the high pass. Hooking his bow over his shoulder Jahunda ran to the second site, overlooking the deer-trail. The Drenai must emerge here. He chose his arrow with care, and hoped he could make the kill before the others arrived. Then the horse would be his by right, and a fine beast it looked. He closed his eyes and listened for the soft clopping of hooves in the snow. Sweat was seeping from under his white burnoose and fear made his mouth dry. The Drenai was no merchant. This one was a careful man who knew where he was riding and the danger he was in. That he travelled here at all spoke well of his bravery, and his confidence. Jahunda was anxious that the first shaft should strike a mortal blow.
There was no sound from the snow-shrouded trees and Jahunda risked a glance around the boulder.
Nothing.
But the man had to be close. There was no other route.
Jahunda inched his way to the left and leaned out. Still nothing. Perhaps the rider had doubled back. Maybe he should have waited by the first site. Indecision rippled through him. The Drenai could be relieving himself against a tree, he told himself. Give it time! His heart was beating fast and he tried to calm himself. But the horse was magnificent! He could sell it and buy Shora a shawl of silk, and one of those bangles with the blue stones that Zaris sold at ridiculously high prices. Oh, how Shora would love him if he arrived at her father’s house bearing such gifts. He would be an acclaimed warrior, a hunter, a defender of the land. It would hardly matter then that he could not yet grow a beard.
He heard the clop of hooves and swallowed hard. Wait! Be patient. He drew back on the string and glanced up at the sun. It would cast a shadow from high and to the right of the rider and from his hiding place behind the boulder Jahunda could time his attack perfectly. He licked his lips and watched for the shadow of the horse. As it drew alongside the boulder he stepped out, bow raised.