didn’t understand her ways or powers.
“I have had the dream again,” he said. “About the girl.”
“Do men ever dream of anything different?” she replied, mocking him. Instinctively his powerful fists clenched.
“It is definitely her,” he said. “Yet I saw her as the bolt pierced her, only days ago. She pulled it out and fell down the cliff face. She
The sybil looked at him with her bloodshot eyes, regarding him coolly.
Without a word she hobbled to a bench and began picking through the iron pots and knives that lay scattered about. Then, having set aside a pan and a knife, she hobbled toward a set of dark drawers that stood nearby. Her head bent low to examine the plants and dead animals that lay heaped atop it.
Sulla lost patience.
“Did you not hear what I said?” he demanded. “Why do I dream of her again after killing her? I dreamed of her before I even saw her, and I continue to do so now! What does it mean? Is she dangerous to me still? Answer me!”
The hag turned from the drawer and peered at him intently. Sulla felt suddenly very weak under her vicious gaze.
“She is dangerous to you, Sulla,” she replied. “And you have only yourself to blame for that! An obsession- that is what she is. Who can this girl be who killed your men? Who fought like an animal? Who is she who knows your name when she has never even met you?
“You fear her Sulla, for her hate burns hotter than yours!’
He considered her words… and laughed. It was a sound he rarely made, and whenever he did, it sounded as if he were out of practice.
“Fear her?” he responded. “A dead girl? She ambushed my men and killed them with her hunter’s tricks, but she is no warrior. My men wounded her and I killed her myself with my crossbow. I do not fear her, witch!” He spat the words, his anger giving him the power to believe them.
“Let us see, Sulla,” the hag said quietly. “Do you have something that belonged to her? Any trinket? A piece of hair? Of torn clothing?”
Sulla knew her ways and he had come prepared. He handed the hag a dagger that the girl had hurled at his head. The witch took it reverently, eyeing it closely, and then she wrapped it in several leaves that she had taken from the drawer. She placed it in the iron pan, then picked up a dead creature, which Sulla dared not examine too closely, using her knife to expose its entrails. Swiftly she stirred them, the knife scraping the bottom of the iron pan, making an excruciating noise.
Sulla held his breath.
The sybil leaned over her foul concoction and looked at it very closely, her beady bloodshot eyes examining it in fine detail. For several minutes she remained silent.
Sulla shifted his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. Finally he could stand it no more.
“What does the augur say, witch?” he demanded.
“Only that which the gods wish us to know, Sulla!” she snapped suddenly, clearly angry that her meditation had been interrupted. Sulla thought for a second that he saw a fearful look upon her face.
“Well?” he asked, a conciliatory tone in his question.
“She lives and her spirit grows. She is still in danger, but with each passing moment she gains strength. Something is protecting her, though. Something is hiding her from my sight. But it cannot protect us from her, Sulla. Her hate and her anger are enough to burn. She has been chosen as a pawn of the gods, in the latest of their long games!”
“Is she where I left her? Where she fell from the cliff top?”
“I cannot tell you that, Sulla,” she said. The hag was clearly exhausted from reading the augur.
“Then I will send men out there to scour the area. If she is alive they will bring her back to me. I shall enjoy dowsing the fires of her hatred with my own hands!” He clenched his fists once again in savage delight as he recalled the girl’s blonde hair and pale skin.
ELEVEN
The mare struggled to obey Theodore’s uncompromising commands. Her breath was heavy and labored, and her eyes shone feverishly.
The dwarf who sat in front of the squire looked nervously up at him.
“She cannot keep the pace! You’re killing her!”
“I will not stop,” Theodore responded. “You saw what I saw! It is close.” He had never known true fear before-he knew that now. In his training he had been taught to master his emotions, and he had been good at it, too. But that was behind secure walls and in the company of others.
Out here the fear was pure, undiluted.
And he was afraid.
It had taken them an hour to retrieve the dwarf’s boxes, and they had placed all the adamant bars into a single iron box that they roped to the mare’s back.
Then they had made their way back to the road, where they had once more seen the crows flocking to the south.
“It’s the monster!” the dwarf said with grim certainty. “It’s struck again!”
They had ridden down the road without haste, Theodore conscious that the mare might need all her speed later on. But with every yard their nervousness grew.
Soon they found the hollow occupied by the bodies of the men in purple. It was daylight by then, and the mutilated corpses lay where the monster had slaughtered them in their sleep. On all bodies the carrion eaters had left their grim mark.
As they dismounted and examined the scene, the squire had felt sick, his body numbed and his face paled.
“We should leave here,” the dwarf whispered urgently.
“Whatever did this is gone, do you not think?” Theodore asked hopefully.
“No, squire, I do not think so,” his companion replied. “This thing is clever. These men were killed in their sleep.”
The mare whinnied, suddenly and fearfully. Theodore glanced about quickly, his hand instantly on his sword hilt. There was a change in the wind, and the birds had fallen silent.
“We should leave here now, squire!”
But Theodore was still uncertain.
“Look, squire!” the dwarf growled, reaching down into the earth. He held his clenched fist to Theodore and opened his hand. Lying in his palm were several golden coins. “These are the men who incited the others to burn my house! They took my gold and jewels, all of which are no doubt lying scattered about.” He eyed the nearby trees nervously. “You know the reputation of my race, squire-how we covet gold and precious metals. I am willing to leave all of it behind if it means we leave now. There is something unnatural here. Can’t you feel it on the wind?”
Theodore had indeed felt something. The world had gone quiet, as if nature was holding her breath as she stalked up behind them. He cast his eyes skyward to see if the carrion eaters were still circling. They were, but higher than they had been before, as if they waited for a powerful predator to take its fill first.
He strode hastily over to the mare, who had become increasingly skittish.
“Come on! It is close!” the dwarf said. Theodore mounted and hauled the dwarf up in front of him. The horse needed no urging to leave, and she found her own way back to the road at a smart trot, keeping her feet well despite the hidden roots that lay under the deep snowdrifts.
And when they were on the road, she had felt secure enough to pick up her pace, putting as much distance as she could between them and that blood-stained hollow.
