‘A little,’ Miskyia said, ‘but we must finish off that priest, this Wislaw, once and for all.’
Iwa felt a black cloud stir deep inside her mind. Who is he to thwart my desires? The voice of Lord Bethrayal whipped through her head.
‘Come,’ Miskyia said, taking her hand, ‘we must travel by the old mountain path.’
‘Do I have to go?’ Staying in the temple where the Lord Bethrayal was safe and surrounded by powerful magic seemed the obvious thing to do, at least until he could take form without her.
‘The Karzełek are overconfident,’ Miskyia said simply. ‘They have long forgotten the harsh taste of battle. It will take all their strength to overcome the woyaks, they cannot deal with Wislaw as well.’
‘But you could…’ She let her voice trail away. Inside her, the spirit of Lord Bethrayal bayed for blood and vengeance. She could feel it, like a captured wolf straining on a lead.
‘I’ve used so much of my strength in protecting you. Keeping you alive takes almost all my power; there isn’t enough left to deal with Wislaw. You cannot break through the priest’s barriers and counter his magic by yourself, and Lord Bethrayal cannot move without you.’
Around them the Karzełek were ready. Someone slipped a cloak over her shoulders but she let it fall away. If she was going into battle then she’d go as one of the clan. She remembered Katchka’s old saying, Beware the she-wolf, for it is the mother who will defend her cubs to the last, more ferociously than any male.
With a cry the Karzełek moved off, their feet hardly making a scratch as they ran down the paths, heavy shields and spears carried lightly in mighty arms. Iwa followed; behind her she could sense the spirit of Lord Bethrayal moving as the mist. On either side a group of Karzełek kept pace, their leaders careful not to let her out of sight.
Chapter Twenty-Three
At the edges of the larger world they halted. There was nothing to mark the boundary but a vague sense of unease. The Karzełek haven’t the craft to slip through the barrier, Iwa realised, just as the hunters and woyaks could crash round on the outside and never find their way in.
Then, as the forest witch uttered a spell, the barrier shimmered and the Karzełek stepped out into the wider world. There was a roar as they caught the unfamiliar scents and saw a different moon in the sky. The air came hot with their breath, ghosting in the night as they reached out along half hidden trails.
‘What news from your scouts?’ Miskyia asked as the pace slowed.
‘They have reached the river,’ the Karzełek leader said. So the witch must have led a party of Karzełek out here before, Iwa realised. No wonder she’d been gone so long. But what of the world outside? She’d still not got used to the idea that time moved differently in the hidden places, the craft keeping to its own course. How long had it been since she’d run away from the camp? Her head spun. Keeping the link with Lord Bethrayal had taken much more out of her than she realised.
Crossing the boundary into the outside world had been more difficult this time, and her mind was fuzzy as she drifted numbly into a semidarkness.
‘And the woyaks in the camp?’ Miskyia’s words came to Iwa as if the witch was far away.
‘They are unaware of our presence,’ the Karzełek barked as Iwa drifted back into the world once more. ‘We could take them now, slaughter them like sleeping children.’
‘Do not underestimate the woyaks,’ Iwa said bitterly, her emotions turning to surprise as she realised that the Karzełek leader actually seemed to be considering her words. ‘They might look like idiots but they keep their camp well guarded.’
‘None of them dare venture out into the forest at night,’ Miskyia said, ‘the paths are clear, at least.’
‘My scouts have prepared the way!’ the Karzełek leader replied.
‘Then it is time to split our forces,’ Miskyia said. ‘You must give us time to get to the river before you attack the camp. Draw the woyaks off to the main gate so that none will see us cross the water. We cannot risk being detected, especially by that fool priest.’
‘My scouts will keep watch from the high ground,’ the Karzełek leader grunted. ‘Fear not, when we see your boat upon the river we will attack.’
‘May the power of the Lord Bethrayal keep and protect you,’ Miskyia grasped the Karzełek’s claw in a ritual sign of friendly parting, ‘and make sure that you keep to the forest paths; it is so long since they have felt your tread and it would be easy to lose your way in the dark.’
‘The way is well marked,’ the Karzełek leader said. He turned and barked an order in his own language. As one, the Karzełek picked up their pace and veered off to the right. Miskyia turned to the left and motioned for Iwa to follow. The Karzełek who had run with Iwa before followed her, ten in all, their spears held ready.
How long have they planned this? she thought as they made their way through the scrub. By now their pace had slowed, the Karzełek moving for stealth rather than speed and, every so often, one would halt and sniff the air. They must have a keener sense of smell than us, Iwa realised, which startled her, since the Karzełek stank so badly that it was a miracle that they could smell anything else. I wonder what we smell like to them. She chuckled, more in an attempt to allay her own fears than anything else.
They took the old fishermen’s path that the Salmon clan sometimes used, a lonely track that ran wide through the forest before dipping down
