Within moments, the Fat Mistress was afire. From atop the Tower, arcs of orange fire crashed down onto the ship’s’ deck, spreading fiery tendrils in every direction. Those on the deck ran screaming, trying to escape the inferno, many already alight. Stones crashed against the side of the merchant ship, shattering its rails and sending splinters flying. The more agile of the crew jumped into the water, but arrows from the guards stationed in the Tower, took care of them.

‘It’s almost like they’re dancing,’ the beggar chuckled, watching in fascination the frantic figures on the ship trying to douse the fire with sand. ‘Poor bastard,’ he muttered as they saw a horse, his mane on fire, gallop across the deck, killing many under his thundering hoofs, before crashing still against the mast-pole. Fingers of red capered into a sky wreathed in smoke of variegated shades of grey. The Fat Mistress was a pyre. The green waters around it now rippled like a scarlet mirror. Through the smoke, Mati saw the flying arrow that took the life of her new colleague, the first ‘plague victim’. The other already lay dead, his face crushed under the sea of feet. ‘Sorry about your friends,’ she said to the third man.

He waved a hand. ‘We didn’t like each other. But do I get the same deal now that he isn’t here to collect?’ The lascivious eyes glinted, leering at Mati’s chest. She smiled and unsheathed her poison dart. He did not know it was empty. The grin vanished from the man’s face and he shut his mouth. ‘What will you do now?’ Mati asked, wondering if she ought to let him live.

‘Find another place to beg. Something tells me this harbour is going to be unpopular for a while.’

She decided against taking another life on her ledger, and let him scramble after the coins on the floor. Too many lives had been sacrificed to the Storm God today. She could still hear the frightened neighing of horses left behind by their fleeing masters. She followed the sounds to a barn behind the row of warehouses. A score of abandoned horses stood in a horse-keeper’s stable. One did not find many horses in Kalinga.

The Storm God looked down upon these creatures of the Greens, which turned men weak and lazy. But necessity was stronger than divine precept. Mati shoved a bare foot into a stirrup and swung herself into the saddle. But a lone woman on horseback was certain to attract attention.