‘Give it a try anyway,’ Kalten said. ‘If your bolt falls short – or even goes over – somebody of Rendorish persuasion’s bound to catch it for you.’

Kurik laid his crossbow across the top of the broken wall to steady it and took careful aim.

‘God has revealed it to me!’ Ulesim was shrieking to his followers. ‘We must destroy the bridges which are the work of the Evil One! The forces of darkness beyond the river will assault you, but Ramshorn will protect you! The power of the Blessed Eshand has joined with that of Holy Arasham to fill the Talisman with unearthly might! Ramshorn will give you victory!’

Kurik squeezed the lever of his crossbow slowly. The thick bow made a deep-toned ‘twang’ as it sped the bolt towards its mark.

‘You are invincible!’ Ulesim was shrieking. ‘You are –’

Whatever else it was that they were was never revealed. The vanes of a crossbow bolt were suddenly protruding from Ulesim’s forehead just above his eyebrows. He stiffened, his eyes wide and his mouth suddenly gaping. Then he crumpled into a heap atop the rubble.

‘Good shot,’ Tynian congratulated Kurik.

‘Actually, I was trying to hit him in the belly,’ Kurik confessed.

‘That’s all right, Kurik,’ the Deiran laughed. ‘It was more spectacular this way anyhow.’

A vast groan of shock and dismay ran through the crowd of Rendors.

Then the word ‘crossbow’ raced through the mob. A number of unfortunates had obtained such weapons from the Lamorks in one way or another. They were torn to pieces on the spot by their frenzied compatriots. A fair number of the black-robed men from the south ran off through the streets, howling and tearing at their garments. Others slumped to the ground, weeping in despair. Still others stood staring in stunned disbelief at the place where Ulesim had only recently stood haranguing them. There was also, Sparhawk noticed, a fair amount of on-the-spot politics going on. There were those in the crowd who felt that they had a claim on the recently-vacated position, and they began to take steps to ensure their elevation to eminence, reasoning that power rests more securely in the hands of sole survivors. Adherents of this or that candidate joined in, and the huge crowd was soon embroiled in what could only be called a general riot.

‘Political discussion is quite spirited among the Rendors, isn’t it?’ Tynian observed mildly.

‘I noticed that,’ Sparhawk agreed. ‘Let’s go and tell the Preceptors about Ulesim’s accident.’