Askari ran on, moving now towards the east, seeking to cut across the trail left by the beasts. The tracks would tell the story better than she could imagine it. The search took far longer than she had anticipated, and there was less than an hour’s daylight remaining when she came upon the trail. She was tired now, having been on the move at speed for around two hours. Carefully she studied the spoor. It was difficult to estimate the numbers of beasts, for the tracks overlapped one another, but it seemed there must be more than thirty of them. Stavut’s boot prints were clear, here and there. One huge Jiamad was walking alongside him. Guarding the prisoner? Now with a clear trail Askari ran again, heading northeast. The ground rose steadily towards a high stand of pine. The wind was blowing from the west, so the Jems would not be able to pick up her scent. Even so she moved more warily. The last thing she needed was to run straight into their camp.
As she neared the tree line she heard a horse whinny. Coming to a stop she notched an arrow to her bow. From the trees ahead she saw Decado ride into sight. He waved and smiled. ‘You are a long way from your friends, beauty,’ he said.
‘And you are a short way from death,’ she said.
‘Pish! We are all a short way from death.’ Lifting his leg over the saddle horn he jumped lightly to the ground. ‘So what brings you here?’ he asked, walking to a jutting rock and sitting down.
‘Does it not concern you that I might kill you?’ she asked.
‘You didn’t kill me that first night, beauty. You just let me go. Why was that?’
‘Obviously a mistake,’ she told him.
‘Probably.’
‘And stop calling me beauty. I am not her.’
‘Confusing, though,’ he said. He winced suddenly and rubbed at his eyes.
‘What is wrong with you?’
‘Nothing of note. I get head pains sometimes. Mostly they are bearable. Sometimes — as when you found me — they are. . not so bearable. This one is — happily — not too debilitating. So, why are you here?’
‘I am looking for a friend.’
‘You are lucky, then, for you have found one.’
‘You are not my friend, Decado. I am speaking of a true friend, a man named Stavut.’
‘The one walking with the Jiamads?’
‘You have seen them?’
‘Indeed I have. I came upon them earlier. Thought I would have to fight my way clear. Happily he has them well disciplined, so there was no trouble.’
‘He is not a prisoner, then?’
‘It would be an unusual definition of the word prisoner. He commands them, and they obey. We had some conversation. Strange man. A little deranged, I think.’
Askari laughed then. Decado smiled. ‘I have amused you?’
‘That you, of all people, should accuse another of being deranged.’
‘Yes, ironic, isn’t it? Of course I could argue that it gives me a better insight.’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘No offence, but I don’t suppose you’d consider getting naked with me. It would help relieve my headache.’
‘I don’t believe you! I loathe you, Decado. What on earth would make you think I’d want to sleep with you?’
‘I wasn’t talking about sleep. Just sex. However, a simple no would have been sufficient.’ He glanced up at the sky. ‘Are you still thinking of finding your friend?’
‘Of course.’
‘You won’t do it before dark on foot. Climb up behind me and I’ll take you to them.’ Rising from the rock he walked to his horse, stepped into the saddle, then held out his hand to her.
‘Why should I trust you?’
‘I can’t think of a single good reason.’
‘Nor I,’ she said, with a smile.
Returning the arrow to its quiver she took his hand. Decado slipped his foot from the stirrup and Askari levered herself up to sit behind him.
The meeting with Gilden had depressed Stavut considerably. He liked the man and, more, respected him.
Gilden was brave, honourable, and good-hearted. Yet the hatred in his face when he talked of vermin had shocked Stavut. As he walked on, the ground rising higher and higher towards the northeast, he kept thinking of Gilden’s savage reaction. It wouldn’t have surprised him a few weeks ago, he realized. In fact, he too had felt the same about Jiamads. But then he had never known any. Now he knew there was no evil in them. They were savage in the same way as the wolf or the lion. They killed to eat. There was no hatred in them, no malice.
Last night he had witnessed a fight between Shakul and another huge beast. It had begun so swiftly Stavut had had no chance to intervene. The two beasts had rushed at one another, snarling and biting. At first Shakul had been pushed back, but then he struck his opponent with a ferocious right hand. The beast staggered. Shakul leapt upon him, bearing him to the ground. He hit him twice more, open-handed, the sound sickening. The beast slumped. Then Shakul rose above him, standing very still. The dazed Jiamad slowly moved to all fours, then nuzzled the ground at Shakul’s feet. The other members of the pack gathered round. Then each began to stamp his feet on the ground.
Shakul walked back to where Stavut stood, mesmerized by the scene. ‘What was that about?’ the merchant had asked.
‘Place,’ said Shakul. ‘Place in pack.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Shakul’s place.’
‘He wanted to take your place as. . what?’
Shakul’s huge hand touched Stavut’s shoulder. ‘Bloodshirt,’ he said. Then he tapped his own chest.
‘Shakul.’ He pointed to the beast he had fought. ‘Broga.’ Then at Grava, who was sitting close by.
Stavut understood then. The pack order was decided by battle. The realization left him suddenly uneasy. ‘Does this mean you and I will fight one day?’
Shakul’s shoulders heaved as he gave the staccato growl Stavut understood to be laughter. Then he walked away.
Throughout the morning the pack pushed on. Stavut had no idea how fast the army of the Eternal marched, nor indeed whether they had anything to fear from them. It was likely they would merely pass through the land. However, Stavut had no wish to depend on luck. His view was to put as much distance between the army and the pack as possible. Unfortunately this meant climbing higher into the mountains.
The Jiamads were taking turns now hauling his wagon, but the trail was becoming more and more difficult. It was also narrowing. To Stavut’s right there was a fearsome drop. As he walked he stayed close to the cliff wall on his left. Shakul came alongside him, staring at him.
‘Bloodshirt sick?’
‘No. Frightened. I hate heights,’ he said, pointing to the edge.
Shakul walked to the lip of the precipice and stared over and down. ‘Long way,’ he said.
Then he marched on, scouting the path ahead. Grava came alongside, his long tongue lolling from his mouth. He said something utterly unintelligible. Stavut nodded. ‘Good point,’ he replied. Grava nodded and spoke again. Happily he wandered off before Stavut was forced to admit he hadn’t understood a word.
The pack moved on. Up ahead came the sound of falling rocks. Stavut raised his arm and halted the beasts. Grava ran forward to check for danger. When he returned Stavut could see he was agitated. He ran to Stavut and began to speak. ‘Slow down,’ said Stavut. ‘I can’t understand you.’