TEN

Risp watched captain Esthala throw on her cloak and tug her gauntlets from her swordbelt. There was the taste of iron in the air, a pungent aura of panic spreading through the hidden camp. The day was fast drawing to a close, shadows engulfing the spaces between the crags. Esthala’s husband, Silann, had dismounted to help down one of his wounded soldiers. Risp turned and studied the battered troop, seeing faces flushed and faces pale and taut with pain, seeing the blood splashed on most of the soldiers and the tenderness with which they pulled bodies down, and the way the horses stamped and tossed heads in the aftermath of battle. A moment later Esthala walked past her to accost her husband.

‘Have you lost your mind?’ she hissed, but not quietly enough to be missed by the nearby soldiers. ‘This was not supposed to happen.’

He shot her a glare. ‘A caravan. We recognized one of the guards, and for damned certain he recognized us!’

‘What of it? A dozen old soldiers on the trail — that means nothing!’

‘A disbanded unit once more under arms, you mean. And to that old man it meant something. I think even the one commanding those guards had marked us as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But listen, Esthala, it’s been taken care of. No survivors barring a child who was quick to run off — and who’d listen to a child? The caravan was struck by bandits and that is all.’ His rush of words ended and he stood staring at his wife, his face smeared in dirty sweat.

‘A child escaped you? Go back and hunt him down!’

‘He’ll never survive the hills. No food, no water. The night will probably kill him — he looked no more than six years old. He rode out across a mudflat and lost his horse to it.’

‘Then he should be easy enough to find,’ said Esthala, crossing her arms.

Silann was scowling. ‘I’m not in the habit of killing children.’

‘I will lead a troop if you deem it necessary,’ said Risp, drawing them both around. Fed up with this unprofessional display, where whatever marital problems they possessed continually overwhelmed all propriety, she continued in a reasonable tone, ‘Silann’s unit is all chewed up. They’re tired and they have friends to bury.’

‘And what think you Hunn Raal will say to this?’ Esthala demanded. ‘We’re not yet ready for open bloodshed. You said so yourself.’

Risp shrugged. ‘My cousin understands the risks. You have plenty of country to cross, and thinking you can do it unseen is unrealistic. I agree with Silann that we need not worry about some hysterical, shocked child, but if you wish it, captain, I will find that child and we can put this matter to rest. Silann,’ she added, one brow lifting, ‘it seems your soldiers are out of shape. A few caravan guards mauled you badly.’

‘Veterans among those guards, Risp. And the old man was Gripp.’

‘Gripp Galas?’

‘The same. He killed the first two who came at him.’

‘How did he fall?’

‘A spear to the back.’

‘Who fired the wagons?’ Esthala demanded.

Silann turned away. ‘That was a mistake.’

Risp said nothing. The venom between husband and wife was growing ever more vicious. There was a son who had left the family, Risp recalled, taking the priestly orders and so disappointing his ambitious parents. No doubt they each blamed the other, but it was likely not the least of their mutual irritations. Glancing away, she could see the pillars of black smoke in the distance to the south, rising above the rough rocks. ‘Is Hish Tulla in residence at her keep? Does anyone know?’

‘No,’ replied Esthala in a tone that could dull knife blades. ‘She is still in Kharkanas.’

‘So it’s not likely they’ll investigate. As I recall, that old castellan of hers has no imagination and isn’t one to abandon the keep on account of a little smoke. If he sends anyone, it’ll be tomorrow and you’ll be long gone from these hills. I’ll catch you up on the north road.’

‘Take six of your own,’ Esthala told her. ‘If you come upon anyone from Tulla Keep, offer to ride with them if any searching takes place, and do not take no for an answer. I doubt they will look beyond the scene of the fight itself. The burnt loot is a problem — that’s a hoard of wealth gone up in smoke, after all.’ She fixed her husband with another iron glare. ‘See to your soldiers, husband.’

Risp gestured to her sergeant who stood a few paces away. ‘Ready the horses. Choose five with tracking skills and good eyes.’