We all looked uneasily at the motionless body and I wondered how much damage I had done with that punch; you just never can tell and that's got more than a few men hanged.
'The leader, the man who interrogated us, he was looking out through this one's eyes?' Ryshad asked after a long silence.
I nodded emphatically. 'I'm sure of it.'
'So he knows where we are?'
'I've no idea.' I shrugged. 'I just didn't want him looking at me like that.'
'Perhaps we should drop this one over the side,' Shiv said dubiously.
'If they are going to catch up with us, he could be the price for our freedom,' Ryshad reminded him.
Aiten half turned, opening his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing as a puzzled expression crossed his face. He blinked and as I looked at him, I saw the light of his genial brown eyes snuffed out like a candle. Dead blackness looked back at me as his face went slack and unknowing.
'Ait!' I screamed in horror as I dodged a sword blow that would have split my skull like a turnip. I fell backwards on to my bottom, which saved me from the follow-up.
Shiv was moving but was a fraction too slow and the next slashing down stroke bit hard into his arm, snapping the bone like a dead branch. He screamed; I braced myself on the seat and kicked out with both my feet to send whatever had been Aiten just moments before stumbling back down the vessel.
Blue light flared all around me as Shiv pulled me backwards through a spell woven from pure instinct. As the dazzle cleared, I felt a wall of air protecting us.
'Ryshad, he's got Ait, the bastard's got into his head.'
Ryshad had not waited to be told before grabbing his blade but the thing that had been Aiten was already turning to face him, sword rising.
They stood poised in a moment's stillness but when the Ice-man made his move, he did not send Aiten's sword at Ryshad; he had him drive it down right through the bottom of the boat, slicing through the oil-hardened leather like calico.
'You bastard!' Shiv spat as he clutched his shattered arm. He grimaced in pain, gasping with the effort, but I saw a tangle of green lines knit the gash in the hides together again, keeping us afloat for the moment.
I cut my sleeve free and sliced it into crude bandages for Shiv's arm. Blood was streaming down his fingers to mingle with the water sloshing around our feet.
'Let me to it,' I ordered curtly.
Shiv moved his hand, I clamped the linen down hard on the spouting gash. He whimpered with the pain and I cursed helplessly.
'Ait, Ait, fight it, throw the bastard out, fight him.'
There was agony in his voice as I looked up to see Ryshad's sword come up to meet Aiten's, a clash that raised sparks from the blades.
I watched with horror knotting my guts as the puppet that bastard Ice-man had made of his friend continued to lash out at Ryshad. There was none of Aiten's usual finesse; the strokes were signalled like those of a first-season militia recruit and I prayed that this meant Ait was fighting to regain control inside his own skull.
Ryshad's face was twisted with pain and I saw blood on his shirt. I watched with a sinking feeling as I saw Ryshad was not attacking; his sword strokes were all purely defensive. As the Ice-man tightened his hold on Aiten and drew on more of his skills, Ryshad was too slow to respond. Fear of hurting his friend was paralysing him, dooming him.
It was going to have to be me. If Ryshad went down, I could not take on the experience of a trained warrior face to face, whoever was controlling his mind. Shiv was barely conscious now and I shied away from imagining what might happen if he lost control of his spells.
I drew a dagger and moved to the edge of Shiv's barrier, glancing anxiously behind me as I did so. Shiv nodded, face taut with the effort of clinging on to consciousness, knowing what I had to do. I edged forward, as much to ensure I didn't fall out of the wildly rocking boat as to make sure I didn't alert the enemy.
Ryshad lunged forward and I was nearly trodden underfoot as Aiten staggered backwards from a blow to the face. Ryshad had hit him full with the pommel of his sword, blood blew back into my face with the sea spray. I saw the despair on Ryshad's face; that blow should have knocked Aiten clean unconscious into the Otherworld. It had to be the aetheric hold keeping him on his feet. Despair nearly cost Ryshad dear. Aiten's sword flicked forward with something like its old speed and tore a bloody rent down one arm.
I gripped my dagger and wished uselessly for some of my poisons, some of the narcotics I knew could drop a man in his tracks. There was no time. I studied Aiten's back but a heart stroke was too risky; with the boat jouncing underfoot and Aiten lunging back and forth, I chanced hitting a rib, which would be more likely fatal for me. It would have to be a blood stroke, the great vessels in neck or leg. It would drop him fast but would it be fast enough? I just had to pray Ryshad was quick enough to realise what I was doing.
Aiten's feet spread as he steadied himself in the frantically tossing boat. He went to launch a smashing blow at Ryshad's head. As he moved, so did I. Between his legs and up to the inner thigh, I sliced deep into the artery as it left the groin. He stumbled and as Ryshad saw the scarlet gush of life blood, he lunged forward to pin Aiten's arms to his side in a fierce embrace. They sank to their knees in the little boat and Aiten's struggles soon ceased. His head lolled forward on to Ryshad's breast and then sideways; I saw the blackness of possession fade from his eyes, the familiar easy brown returning to pierce my heart. His brow wrinkled faintly and he half opened his mouth as if to speak. Whatever it was went unsaid as he breathed his last in a puzzled sigh and closed his eyes like a tired child.
The agony in Ryshad's face was too much for me to bear and I closed my eyes to blot out the sight of his helpless tears for his friend.
'You bastard, you stinking arsehole, you scum-sucking son of a pox-rotted whore, you're a shit stain on the arse of the world, you'd stuff a pig for pleasure but none would have you.'
I poured out my hatred for the Ice-man in futile obscenities but got no relief. I went to open my eyes again to face the hardness of reality but found I could see nothing.
'You have quite a turn of phrase for a common slut. Still, it enabled me to find you, so I shan't complain.'
The gloom around me lightened with eerie, colourless fire and I saw the Ice-man coming slowly towards me through coiling darkness. I gasped with a terror that almost stopped my heart. What had he done? Where was I? I clutched frantically at my dagger and held it out to ward him off but it was pale and insubstantial in my hand. Shaking like a tree in a gale, I realised he had trapped me inside my own head. I don't know how I knew, I just did.
'You're very astute,' that hated voice agreed, sounding as if he were standing next to me, and I saw the lips on the image move as it floated towards me. I scowled, anger keeping terror barely at bay now the initial shock had passed. I saw the shape was indistinct, fuzzy at the edges; that gave me some measure of strength but, as I watched, it grew lighter against the blackness, more whole, more dreadful.
'I should have paid more attention to you,' he sighed. 'It's just that Geris took such pains to convince me you were nothing more than a bed-warmer, a little feminine comfort servicing him and your conjuror friend.' A revolting anticipation coloured his tone. 'I shall find a lot more to interest me in your mind and your body now I know the truth, shan't I?'
The fear of him let loose inside my mind again was beyond any terror I had known. He could do what he liked to my body; flesh heals and at worst the Otherworld beckons, but to imagine the feel of him in my very intellect again was not to be borne.