Watching Hawkwood approach, Nevens straightened. From his expression it was not hard to read his mind. Seeing his companion cut down so brutally, not by an Indian but by a white man, had, no doubt, been as shocking as the deed itself. The threat to hand him to the Indians for questioning had probably awakened countless childhood memories and tales of blood-thirsty natives. The sight of Lawrence and Oneas departing had only added to his fear. It was obvious his mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to save himself.

It was a futile exercise.

Hawkwood was almost level with them when Cageaga stepped behind the lieutenant. In a move so fast that it had barely time to register in Hawkwood’s brain, he drove the head of his war club against the base of the lieutenant’s skull. Nevens collapsed without a sound.

Squatting down next to the body, Cageaga drew his knife.

“Yahtea!” Tewanias’s command cut through the air.

Cageaga paused. He looked up, staring first at Hawkwood and then at a point over Hawkwood’s shoulder. Hawkwood turned. Tewanias did not speak either but remained where he was. His eyes were on Hawkwood. They moved to Cageaga. He shook his head. “Yahtea,” he said again.

No.

Showing no emotion, Cageaga returned the knife to its sheath and stood up. Tewanias looked back at Hawkwood, held his gaze for another second and then turned away.

Hawkwood crossed to the body. He did not look for signs of life for he knew there would be none. The blow, delivered by an adept, had been meant to kill. He presumed Tewanias had sent Cageaga a signal while his back had been turned. It had been a deliberate act, designed to deny Hawkwood the task of having to carry out the sentence himself.

At least, Hawkwood assumed that had been the reason; that Tewanias had directed Cageaga to deliver the blow because he’d thought Hawkwood might balk at killing a man in cold blood. Hawkwood wondered about that and then realized there might have been another reason. Tewanias hadn’t acted to spare Hawkwood from killing Nevens but to save him from having to make the decision whether to do so or not.

They carried the bodies off the road and into the forest and concealed them beneath spruce branches and snow. The few drops of blood that had been spilled were easily dealt with.

Tewanias then recalled the lookouts, who reported that the column was still nowhere in sight.

Which gave them time, Hawkwood hoped, to look for a killing ground.