“Yes, I’m certain of it. His intention is to demoralize the human foe and spread the belief in Kobalos martial supremacy. By issuing his challenge and dispatching so many of his human opponents so easily, he has demonstrated just how formidable he is. And in so doing, he is filling human warriors with dismay, destroying their morale. For him, it is a great honor to be the single vanguard of the Kobalos army.”

“Is it working?” I asked. “What about those who witness the defeats of their champions?”

“Representatives of the rulers of the northern principalities—and, in some cases, the princes themselves—have gathered on the south bank of a river that marks the border with the Kobalos territory. The lone Shaiksa assassin is camped on the far side, and each day he issues a challenge. If the challenge is not taken up, he returns the next day to mock and insult the humans.”

“Don’t any of the rulers fight for their honor?” asked Jenny.

“At first the challenges were answered by local warlords—men little better than bandits, who have sworn allegiance to a patron and, in return, are free to base themselves in forts on main highways or at river crossings and exact tribute from travelers. Most of the princes now appoint skilled champions to fight on their behalf. Every week the assassin faces some such champion—faces, fights, and kills him very quickly,” answered Grimalkin. “When, finally, one prince screwed up his courage and faced Kauspetnd in person, he lasted less than a minute.”

“Do you hope to learn about the Shaiksa by going there?” I asked. “Or is there something else that you’ve not told me?”

Grimalkin smiled, showing me her teeth. “All will be revealed in good time!” she said.

“I’d like to know now,” I insisted, meeting her gaze.

“I want to study Kauspetnd’s skills,” she told me. “We will learn and then eventually put that knowledge to good use. The time will come when he must die.”

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, and I shivered. I sensed danger ahead.

The following day, just before noon, Grimalkin rode off alone to scout ahead. She told us that she had to check that the situation at the riverbank was unchanged.

She was away for about two hours, which allowed me the opportunity to talk to Jenny and give her a short lesson. I was listing the various categories of boggart and the usual steps for dealing with them. It was a lesson that I remembered learning from my master; his face kept drifting into my mind’s eye, making it difficult to concentrate. And as I spoke, I could hear John Gregory’s voice in my ear.

“There are four main stages when dealing with boggarts,” I explained, “and we use the acronym NIBS as an aid to memory. We negotiate, intimidate, bind, and slay, in that order, though the final one is used only as a last resort. Sometimes a boggart will listen to reason and move on from a spot where it’s causing problems.”