“No, I did nothing!”
“She’s a witch,” shouted Mari. The other women stared. “She has powers of Second Sight. She knew the raid was coming, but she didn’t warn us.”
“Why did you not tell us?” shouted another woman. Rowena swung and saw the daughter of Jarin the Baker. “My father is dead. My brothers are dead. Why did you not warn us?”
“I didn’t know. Not until the last moment!”
“Witch!” screamed Mari. “Stinking witch!” She lashed out with her tied hands, catching Rowena on the side of the head. Rowena fell to her left, into another woman. Fists struck as all around her in the wagon women surged upright, lashing out with hands and feet. Riders galloped alongside the wagon and Rowena felt herself lifted clear and flung to the ground. She hit hard, the breath knocked out of her.
“What is going on here?” she heard someone yell.
“Witch! Witch! Witch!” chanted the women.
Rowena was hauled to her feet, then a filthy hand caught her by the hair. She opened her eyes and looked up into a gaunt, scarred face. “Witch, are you?” grunted the man..”We’ll see about that!” He drew a knife and held it before her, the point resting against the woollen shirt she wore. “Witches have three nipples, so it’s said,” he told her.
“Leave her be!” came another voice, and a horseman rode close alongside. The man sheathed his knife.
“I wasn’t going to cut her, Harib. Witch or no, she’ll still bring a pretty price.”
“More if she is a witch,” said the horseman. “Let her ride behind you.”
Rowena gazed up at the rider. His face was swarthy, his eyes dark, his mouth part hidden by the bronze ear- flaps of his battle helm. Touching spurs to his mount the rider galloped on. The man holding her stepped into the saddle, pulling her up behind him. He smelt of stale sweat and old dirt, but Rowena scarcely noticed it. Glancing at the wagon where her former friends now sat silently, she felt afresh the terrible sense of loss.
Yesterday the world was full of hope. Their home was almost complete, her husband coming to terms with his restless spirit, her father relaxed and free from care, Mari preparing for a night of passion with Pilan.
In the space of a few hours it had all changed. Reaching up, she touched the brooch at her breast…
And saw the Axeman her husband was becoming. Deathwalker!
Tears flowed then, silently coursing down her cheeks.
Shadak rode ahead, following the trail, while Druss and Tailia travelled side by side, the girl on a bay mare, the young man on a chestnut gelding. Tailia said little for the first hour, which suited Druss, but as they topped a rise before a long valley she leaned in close and touched his arm.
“What are you planning?” she asked. “Why are we following them?”
“What do you mean?” responded Druss, nonplussed.
“Well, you obviously can’t fight them all; you’ll be killed. Why don’t we just ride for the garrison at Padia? Send troops?” He swung to look at her. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed from crying.
“That’s a four-day walk. I don’t know how long it would take to ride - two days at the least, I would think. Then, if the troop was there - and they may not be - it would take them at least three days to find the raiders. By then they will be in Vagrian territory, and close to the borders of Mashrapur. Drenai soldiers have no jurisdiction there.”
“But you can’t do anything. There is no point to this pursuit.”
Druss took a deep breath. “They have Rowena,” he said. “And Shadak has a plan.”
“Ah, a plan,” she said derisively, her full-lipped mouth twisting in a sneer. “Two men with a plan. Then I suppose I am safe?”
“You are alive - and free,” Druss told her. “If you want to ride to Padia, then do so.”
Her expression softened and she reached out, laying her hand on Druss’s forearm. “I know you are brave, Druss; I saw you kill those raiders and you were magnificent. I don’t want to see you die in some meaningless battle. Rowena wouldn’t want it either. There are many of them, and they’re all killers.”
“So am I,” he said. “And there are fewer than there were.”
“Well, what happens to me when they cut you down?” she snapped. “What chance will I have?”
He looked at her for a moment, his eyes cold. “None,” he told her.
Tailia’s eyes widened. “You never liked me, did you?” she whispered. “You never liked any of us.”
“I have no time for this nonsense,” he said, touching heels to the gelding and moving ahead. He did not look back, and was not surprised when he heard the sound of her horse galloping off towards the north.
A few minutes later Shadak rode up from the south. “Where is she?” asked the hunter, letting go of the reins of the two horses he was leading and allowing them to wander close by, cropping the long grass.
“Riding for Padia,” answered Druss. The hunter said nothing for a moment, but he gazed towards the north where Tailia could be seen as a tiny figure in the distance. “You’ll not talk her out of it,” Druss said.
“Did you send her away?”
“No. She thinks we are both dead men, and she doesn’t want to risk being taken by the slavers.”
“That’s a hard point to argue with,” agreed Shadak. Then he shrugged. “Ah well, she chose her own road. Let us hope it was a wise one.”
“What of the raiders?” asked Druss, all thoughts of Tailia gone from his mind.
