He paused and knelt by the corpse.

The body wore a silk robe and there was a heavy gold cross on a solid gold chain twisted around the neck and hanging down the back. There was an incredible amount of blood, as if the man had exploded, and the head . . .

Brown heard the scream from below on the hillside and paused only to curse.

Lucca staggered around the corner of the cottage.

“No fucking idea,” spat Brown. “Someone has to cover the cottage. There could be more.”

He turned and ran down the hill.

Long Paw saw the bursts of red light, and then the cottage caught fire; a flash of light in the grey, and then smoke. Smoke out the front door . . .

Something moved on the hillside. The rain was tapering off; he could see the mountain peak beyond the cottage and the flash of a weapon reflecting light.

The truly abnormal is easy to see. It doesn’t match the patterns that people build so carefully in their minds; it is alien. The thing he saw was wrong: the size of a small deer or a large dog, dark red or black, moving at speed through the gorse. It was not like anything he’d ever seen.

He dropped back into the olive grove.

“Move away from the wall,” he shouted at Donna Beatrice, and when she didn’t respond, he caught her wrist and pulled her along until they were in among the horses. Long Paw watched their heads come up.

“That’s right, ladies,” he said aloud. “Something wicked. Just give it a kick, eh?” He drew his sword and took his buckler off his hip.

“Stay close,” he said in his best Etruscan.

The woman whimpered.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said quietly.

The horses were spooked, right enough. Every head was up; eyes were rolling, and tails lashing.

Something red-black flashed over the wall.

M’bub Ali’s stallion screamed and reared.

And then the thing came over the back of the horses. Long Paw had time to be afraid; the face like a suckerfish, the body too thin to be real.

It had talons as long as daggers, wicked as stilettos, and a long, glowing sword in its right hand.

Brown’s mare kicked at it; one of M’bub’s horses landed a bite and slowed it.

Long Paw’s blade dropped under his buckler, and his left foot slid forward.

As it crossed the back of the horses, it went from saddle to saddle, and the horses panicked, and where it stepped on a bare back, the talons ripped flesh from the packhorse, but the stallion and two of the mares stood their ground.

Long Paw watched it for a little more than one beat of his heart. And then it was all training.