nothing about him struck her as unusual. Turning to Tranton, she eyed the belt with which he fiddled. It was a simple cord of woven hemp, but she had not seen him wearing it before, and it looked a lot newer than the rest of his grubby outfit.
Talsy took Chanter's hand in a casual gesture and led him away from the Truemen. Out of earshot, she whispered, 'I'm sure Tranton has gold in his belt. He's going to try to trap you.'
The Mujar nodded. 'He won't.'
Talsy shot him a nervous glance before turning away once more. The Hashon Jahar still remained at rest beyond the flames, and, in the city below, groups of men armed with an assortment of weapons waited. No women or children were about, however. Evidently they had gone to the other side of the river, so the bridges could be burnt to give them time to escape. The battle plan was good, but against the Black Riders it probably stood little hope of saving more than a few.
Time dragged by as the sun crept higher. Only the muttering of the men below and the harsh cawing of crows broke the hush. Cusak stared at the Black Riders; Tranton tied knots in his new belt, then undid them. Jashon stood at the back of the platform, his arms folded.
The tension broke when Cusak straightened with an oath. 'They're leaving!'
Talsy turned to stare across the barrier, the heat shimmer making it hard to see. The Hashon Jahar milled around, some still on foot, others mounted. The rest mounted and moved into their former line beyond the fire. Cusak shot the Mujar a dark glance.
'Either that, or they know the fire wall is about to fall.'
Chanter ignored him and watched the Riders. Their line formed, they headed upriver, parallel to the fire wall. The leaders followed the fire around towards the river, and Talsy wondered if they were going to try to cross it. Then the column turned to follow the river upstream, and she let out her pent breath in a great sigh. Cusak banged his fists on the railing.
'They are leaving!'
On the city wall, lookouts shouted, and the men in the streets cheered. Jashon joined the governor to watch avidly as the column of Hashon Jahar gathered speed, the horses breaking into a gallop that carried them swiftly away. The faint jingle of armour mingled with the drumming of hooves, and the head of the column was already lost in dust. The end of the column still passed the fire wall, row upon row of them, four abreast.
Chanter said, 'Wish fulfilled.'
'No!' Cusak shouted, but, even as he did, the flames winked out, causing a vacuum that filled with a thump of air, raising a cloud of dust.
'You bastard!' Jashon lunged at Chanter, and Cusak leapt at the same time, colliding with him. The two reeled apart, clutched bruised shoulders and glared at each other. Talsy pulled out her hunting knife and stepped back, bumping into Chanter. He gripped her shoulders to steady her, and a sheet of flame shot up between them and the Truemen. Cusak and Jashon stumbled back, raising their arms to protect their faces. When they had retreated far enough, Chanter let the flames dwindle to waist height.
'You have nothing to fear,' he told them. 'They won't return.'
'How the hell do you know that?' Jashon snarled.
'See for yourselves.'
The Truemen turned to look at the column of Black Riders, whose speed and direction remained the same. The last of them galloped past the unprotected city as if it did not exist.
'They may still turn around,' Cusak pointed out.
Chanter shook his head. 'No.'
The governor scowled at Chanter's lack of explanation, but the reason dawned on Talsy. 'They won't, because they don't know that the fire wall won't be raised against them again. All they know is that a Mujar protects this city, and it's therefore impregnable. Right?' She glanced at Chanter.
He smiled. 'Yes.'
Cusak gave a sour grunt, and Jashon muttered to Tranton, who fingered his belt. In the city, the silence that had fallen when the fire wall winked out now filled with muted cheering and shouting. The Black Riders continued to gallop away, dwindling into the distance upriver.
Chanter patted her shoulder. 'Time to leave.'
Talsy nodded, wondering how they were going to get past the three hateful men who blocked their way. A rush of wind ruffled her hair, and the air filled with the sound of beating wings. A raven winged away into the blue sky, and the sheet of fire died. Jashon stepped forward, leering.
'Left you in the lurch, didn't he, Mujar whore?'
'No, he's watching, but, unlike him, I have no compunction about killing.' She brandished the knife.
Jashon started towards her, but Tranton grabbed him. 'Leave her, she's not worth it. We've lost him, but at least the city's safe.'
'Mujar bitch!' Jashon raged. 'Filthy yellow scum lover! You should go in the Pit too!'
Talsy, filled with sudden courage and deep wish to hurt the man who had tortured Chanter, beckoned to him. 'Come on then, try it! Ingrate! Torturer! Stinking Trueman savage!'
Clearly incensed, Jashon shook Tranton off and charged. Talsy jumped aside and slashed with her knife. A line of blood appeared down Jashon's arm, and he howled with rage. She ducked under his swinging fist and slashed again, opening a wound across his belly. Jashon roared and lunged, but missed once more as Talsy spun away in time. As he ran past, she stuck out her foot, sending him sprawling. He leapt up, red faced, and threw himself at her. Talsy flung herself aside, and Jashon hit the railing. The old wood cracked under the impact and gave way. With a wailing scream, Jashon plunged over the edge.
Talsy panted, staring at the gap in the railings. Tranton made an inarticulate sound and went to peer over the edge, his face ashen. He turned to her with glinting eyes.
'Murderess!'
She shook her head. 'It was a fair fight. He got careless. I never meant to kill him.'
'You drove him to it! You goaded him!'
'He started it.'
Tranton turned to Cusak. 'Call the guard! Arrest her! She must hang for this!'
The governor eyed Talsy. 'We can't.'
'Why not?'
Cusak pointed upwards. 'He's watching, and she's his clan.'
Tranton spat vile curses. 'He's left her! He didn't protect her from Jashon.'
'There was no need,' Talsy pointed out.
Tranton glared at her, his thin, wrinkled face twisted with grief and hate. 'Jashon was right, you should go to the Pit.'
Cusak went to the trap door. 'We can't punish her, but I'd like to see her get out of this city in one piece. She won't get any protection from my soldiers.'
Talsy raised her chin. 'A far greater man than you protects me.'
Tranton spat on the floor. 'He's not a man, you stupid whore. Haven't you figured that out yet?'
'He's a better man than you've ever been, or any Trueman in this city. He's got more decency in his little finger than the lot of you put together.'
Cusak snorted. 'Tranton, let's go. You have a funeral to arrange.'
Tranton turned away with a growl, and she called after them, 'Thanks to a Mujar, the rest of you will live!'
As they vanished down the stairs with a parting glare, Talsy slumped against a wooden upright, her knees weak. Jashon's death shocked and sickened her. She had only meant to cut him a little, to let him feel some of the pain he had inflicted on Chanter. She forced herself to move, the urgency of quitting this terrible city before word of the tragedy spread and mobs of angry people laid siege to the tower goading her. Sheathing the knife, she shouldered the bag and headed for the stairs.
In the street, the men who had gathered to defend the wall sat drinking and talking. A crowd surrounded Jashon's crumpled body, and Tranton's voice rose in shrill outrage from its midst. She slipped from the tower and hurried away in the direction of the river. The deserted streets allowed her to reach the bridge unhampered. No guards demanded toll, and she trotted across the stout structure.
