Zerd saw me and swung his hand in greeting.

“Mount your new bird and come with us.”

He must be in a good temper. Breathlessly I ran in and made them saddle Urns. I mounted him cautiously. It was the first time. But he was quite still for me. Beautifully trained. I touched on his rein and at once he turned and carried me out to the cavalcade. His whole body was throbbing with black life. I rode to the head and joined Him.

He didn’t speak, which disappointed me.

We rode through the camp, among the fires sizzling to their death in the rain, under the fleshy canopy of the foliage.

We rode into the dark forest.

I wanted to ask where we were going but dared not. Instead I studied the rider beside me. We must be going to some great parley, for I had never before seen him in such clothes. Over his shoulders and chest was a strapwork of leather, each strap buckled where it crossed another, the buckles being red gold set with polished agate. A gold band about his brow held the flow of Iris hair which hangs heavy all in one curve like a black mane, and set in the band, at the centre of his brow, was a polished agate. The straps were studded with bosses of red gold, and jagged spikes of unpolished raw agate, and were covered over their leather with a tracery of coloured enamel. At his belt hung the bossed sheaths of his longsword, his dagger, a ceremonial dagger, and two oblong mirrors hung there too, thick to avoid cracking and silver-edged to avoid cutting. He wore on the arm nearest to me a long, heavy wrought-gold armlet, with chips of ivory and crystal set into it. It enclosed the whole forearm and a flap extended down over the back of the hand. This, though magnificent to see, makes the wrist less supple to use swiftly. It is a compliment, a formal assurance to a doubtful friend that though ceremonial daggers are worn they will not be used. But I noticed Zerd wore his on his left arm.

The nocturnal forest rustled, whispered, crept.

Small scurryings fringed the passage of our birds’ claws; the creepers overhead made swift unnatural sounds and when I thought of snakes my flesh crept, as it does not in the daytime; green and pallid yellow half-moons of eyes stared at us from different directions and then vanished.

Once there came a muffled exclamation from behind us, and one of the men cast his spear. A shrill scream split the forest, something wheeled away over my head and for a moment I caught a glimpse of a completely unearthly narrow head, a voraciously open mouth with jaws serrated to form sharp rudimentary teeth, and eyes blinking in sudden terror. Then it was gone.

“One of the reptile birds, rare nowadays,” Zerd remarked to me.