‘Leave that to Selv and me. We don’t shock easily. Any more...’

With a grunt the assassin straightened and went to retrieve his other weapons. Minala watched him.

‘There were two others,’ she said.

Kalam paused over a body, looked up. ‘What?’

‘Guarding the horses. They look...’ She hesitated, then continued grimly, ‘They were torn to pieces. Big chunks ... missing. Bite marks.’

The assassin voiced a second grunt, rose slowly. ‘I hadn’t had much to eat lately,’ he muttered.

‘Maybe a plains bear, the big brown kind. Took advantage of the ruckus to ambush the two guards. Did you hear the horses screaming?’

‘Maybe.’ He studied her face, wondering what was going on behind those almost silver eyes.

‘I didn’t, but there were plenty of screams and sound does jump around in river beds like these. Anyway, it’ll do as an explanation, don’t you think?’

‘Just might.’

‘Good. I’ll ride back for the others now. I won’t be long.’

She swung her mount around without using the reins, since she still held the crossbow in her hands. Kalam wasn’t sure how she managed it. He recalled her crouch over one stirrup hours earlier, her dance across the saddles. This woman can sit a horse.

As she rode back up the bank, the assassin surveyed the grisly camp. ‘Hood,’ he breathed, ‘I need a rest.’

‘Kalam, who rode with Whiskeyjack across Raraku . . .’ Captain Keneb shook his head and poked again at the fire.

It was dusk. The assassin had just awakened from a long, deep sleep. His first hour was never a pleasant one. Aching joints, old wounds – his years always caught up with him while he slept. Selv had brewed a strong tea. She poured Kalam a cup. He stared into the dying flames.

Minala said, ‘I would never have believed that one man could kill eight, all within minutes.’

‘Kalam was recruited into the Claw,’ Keneb said. ‘That’s rare. They usually take children, train them—’

‘Train?’ the assassin grunted. ‘Indoctrination.’ He looked up at Minala. ‘Attacking a group of warriors isn’t as impossible as you think. For the lone attacker, there’s no-one else to make the first move. Eight – ten men ... well, they figure they should just all close in and hack me down. Only, who goes first? They all pause, they all look for an opening. It’s my job to keep moving, make sure every opening is closed before they can react. Mind you, a good veteran squad knows how to work together...’

‘Then you were lucky they didn’t.’

‘I was lucky.’

The older boy, Kesen, spoke up. ‘Can you teach me how to fight like that, sir?’

Kalam grunted. ‘I expect your father has a better life in mind for you, lad. Fighting is for people who fail at everything else.’

‘But fighting isn’t the same as soldiering,’ Keneb said.