Kalam grunted. A man passed him a wineskin and, nodding his thanks, he drank deep. Saltoan, booty from the Mezla – probably the wagons I saw earlier. Same for the oxen. ‘Southeast? One of the coastal cities?’

‘Aye, Hissar. But Hissar is now in Kamist Reloe’s hands. As are all the cities but Aren, and Aren has the Jhistal within. The Wickan flees overland, chained with refugees by the thousand – they beg his protection even as they lap his blood.’

‘Not black-hearted enough, then,’ Kalam muttered.

‘True. He should leave them to Reloe’s armies, but he fears the wrath of the coddled fools commanding in Aren, not that they’ll breathe much longer.’

‘What is this Wickan’s name?’

‘Coltaine. It’s said he is winged like a crow, and finds much to laugh about amidst slaughter. A long, slow death awaits him, this much Kamist Reloe has promised.’

‘May the Whirlwind reap every reward it’s earned,’ the assassin said, drinking again.

‘A beautiful horse you have, Mekral.’

‘And loyal. Beware the stranger seeking to ride him.’ Kalam hoped the warning was not too subtle for the man.

The bandit leader shrugged. ‘All things can be tamed.’

The assassin sighed, set down the wineskin. ‘Are you betrayers of the Whirlwind?’ he asked.

All motion around him ceased. Off to his left the fire’s bone-dry wood crackled in a rising flame.

The leader spread his hands, an offended expression on his face. ‘A simple compliment, Mekral! How have we earned such suspicion? We are not thieves or murderers, friend. We are believers! Your fine horse is yours, of course, though I have gold-’

‘Not for sale, Obarii.’

‘You have not heard my offer!’

‘All Seven Holy Treasures will not sway me,’ Kalam growled.

‘Then no more shall be said of such matters.’ The man retrieved the wineskin and offered it to Kalam.

He accepted but did no more than wet his lips.

‘These are sad times,’ the bandit leader continued, ‘when trust is a rare thing among fellow soldiers. We all ride in Sha’ik’s name, after all. We share a single, hated enemy. Nights such as these, granted peace under the stars amidst this holy war, are cause for celebration and brotherhood, friend.’

‘Your words have captured the beauty of our crusade,’ Kalam said. Words can so easily glide over mayhem and terror and horror, it’s a wonder trust exists at all.

‘You will now give me your horse and that fine weapon at your belt.’

The assassin’s laugh was a soft rumble. ‘I count seven of you, four before me, three hovering behind.’ He paused, smiling as he met the bandit leader’s fire-lit eyes. ‘It will be a close thing, but I will be certain to kill you first, friend.’