For the moment, we slept in our blankets without using the tent. We were traveling northeast, and at first the weather was considerably warmer and drier than that of the County we had left behind. We had a southerly breeze at our backs, and our horses’ hooves raised clouds of dust so that we were forced to wrap scarves about our noses and mouths.

But after the first week, the wind changed and blew hard from the north, making the nights much colder. By dawn the grass was usually white with frost. We started to use the tent; erecting it each night and dismantling it each morning became part of our routine, accomplished without thought.

The plain we traveled across was vast and sparsely populated. We skirted the rare towns and changed our mounts at hamlets or roadside inns where Grimalkin seemed to be known to the landlord. She had clearly taken this route more than once.

One night, during the second week of our journey overland, we were sitting around the campfire, listening to the howling of wolves in the distance, when Grimalkin started to tell us more about the purpose of our journey.

“We have crossed three countries so far; nations that, once roused, may prove to be at least a temporary buffer against the Kobalos. But tomorrow we will reach one of the small principalities that border the lands of our enemies. When the war begins, they will be the first to fall. There we will encounter our first Kobalos.”

“Just one?” I asked.

Grimalkin nodded, her eyes glittering like the stars that were clustered overhead. “The Kobalos have many orders of mage, and almost as many brotherhoods of assassins. As I told you back in Chipenden, the most formidable of these are known as the Shaiksa—they are referred to in Nicholas Browne’s glossary. Just over a year ago, one came to the border of the principality of Polyznia. He issued a challenge, offering to fight human champions in single combat—at least, any who dared accept, because he quickly demonstrated his ability to dispatch most of his opponents within moments. His name is Kauspetnd. I suspect that he is the most formidable member of his brotherhood.”

The behavior of this assassin seemed strange, but before I could remark upon it, Jenny spoke up.

“What’s the point of that? What does the assassin hope to achieve, apart from the deaths of his opponents?” she asked.

“That’s a good question, child,” Grimalkin replied. “But we must remember that we are dealing with minds alien to our own. The Shaiksa assassins live to fight and kill; they love to demonstrate their formidable prowess. However, something else may be happening here. I believe the haizda mage that your new master slew was a spy—but also something more. As well as gathering information, he was testing our strengths and vulnerabilities before the coming war. And that is precisely what the Shaiksa assassin is doing, in a different way.”

“So you think he is trying to prove his superiority?” I asked.