'Two days,' she said.

'Two days?' he stared at her incredulously.

'Why are you surprised? You do not know Heraklion. Distances between provinces and their cities are vast. You could travel for seven days in Hethoum and not see a city, or a village, or a person.'

'Why is that?'

'The population is small, and the area is vast. You have to travel for many days to reach the coast.'

'And we will not pass a village or a city before we enter Barbessel?'

'No.'

'Do the people all live the same way?'

'No.'

'How much should I know?'

'There are areas of Heraklion that everyone knows, and areas that have as yet been unexplored, or explored only briefly. There are many peoples and places that I have never been, and I am twelve!'

'How much should I know, then?'

'I will draw you a map. Stop the wagon.'

'How will you draw me a map?' he demanded. He had seen no evidence of a written language. He reined in the ponies and she jumped down. Squatting on the ground she drew a rough sketch-map of what she knew of Heraklion, and then, to his amazement, began to write some sort of hieroglyphics in the earth to denote provinces and their principal cities. He soon learned that they were two days' ride from the western coast, one day's ride from the north, the border with Barbessel. To the east was Hor-Lak, to the south Hadramaut. At the border with Barbessel, she drew what looked like a mountain.

'Those are the mountains we can see from here?' he demanded.

'Yes.'

'They are not a day's ride from here.'

'I did not say that they were.'

'But beyond them is Barbessel.'

'Precisely.'

'Then.....'

'After midsun we need to strike off to the east. There is one day's ride to the east, then another half day's ride to the mountains.'

'Why can we not go straight north?' Talbrik asked.

'Because we are about to enter the bogs of Praphet' Lienne said.

Talbrik looked at her, and laughed. She jumped back onto the wagon and they were on their way again. 'What are the bogs of Praphet?' he asked.

'Where the water drains down from the mountains to the south of Barbessel, the ground has become marshy, and impossible to cross. There is a legend that a man called Praphet discovered them two centuries ago.'

'Did he build the track we are now on?'

'I do not know.'

'Has anyone tried to build a road across the marshlands?'

'It is now an impenetrable jungle. It would be difficult to make a road through the jungle. What purpose would it serve? There is a perfectly good road here. We are on it.'

'It would make the journey time to Barbessel shorter.'

'In what way?'

'The distance would be less.'

'Barbessel will still be there when we get there using the road we are on now,' Lienne said, frowning. 'I cannot think why anyone would need to get there quicker.'

'Suppose, when I get there, Marcellus has moved on elsewhere?'

'Then someone would know where he had gone, and you would be able to follow him. Why must you find him quickly?'

Talbrik shrugged his shoulders.

'I suppose it is not important.'

'Of course it is not important.'

'Then again, suppose that you were badly injured, and I had to get you quickly to Barbessel, otherwise you might die? I would have to find a quicker way then.'

'I do not see why. If it is ordained that I am going to die before you can get me to Barbessel, or anywhere where I might be treated and thus saved, then that is the way it will be, and I will die. Getting me to Barbessel in a shorter amount of time is not going to make any difference.'

'I do not understand your logic. A shorter distance and journey time between here and Barbessel could mean the difference between your life and your death.'

'I do not see how it could.'

Again Talbrik shrugged his shoulders. She was clearly not receptive to the suggestion that time was important in some matters. At midsun the track swung sharply at right angles to the east and as he looked to the north Talbrik could see the marshlands with the fringe of forest spreading out before him. He reasoned that they must have been travelling up a slight and imperceptible incline, for the trees, tall as they were, had not been previously visible. A short while later he stopped the wagon and they looked for something to eat, finding only the pink tuber-fruit that Talbrik had already tasted and found to his liking.

'Are there any villages nearby?' he asked, sinking his teeth into the soft pink flesh.

'There is a village a few miles from the border, which we should reach by nightfall if we do not stop again,' Lienne said.

'Will there be an establishment where we can get something to eat?' he asked.

'Yes, but they will expect payment of some sort.'

'Do we have anything we can exchange for food and drink?'

Lienne shook her head.

'There is nothing in the wagon.'

'Are you worth anything?' Talbrik demanded. Lienne coloured instantly, and turned an angry glare on him.

'Only joking,' he explained, holding up his hands, but she could not grasp the concept of his humour, and he was unable to explain further.

'Well, then, I will work for our meal,' he said.

'That is not usually acceptable,' she said.

'Then I will take what we need and they will get nothing in exchange, if that is their attitude!'

Now she smiled.

'You may be able to pay for a meal with your craft,' she said.

'My craft?'

'You are an assassin, remember?'

Talbrik grinned.

'I am Talbrik of Ascalonius!' he said. 'There will be work for an assassin such as me!'

'There may be.'

'Someone will need someone killed or got rid of!'

'It is possible.'

'Let's go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we eat!'

By dusk they could see in the distance some buildings, which Talbrik thought resembled some he had seen in Prakussara, simple, stone buildings with thatched roofs. Candlelight provided the only illumination. Once Talbrik thought he saw a long, dark shape, probably an animal of some sort, slinking about the undergrowth outside the village, but it was quickly gone. They pulled up outside a long low building with a central entrance and plenty of candles, and as they entered it was obvious at once that it was some kind of hostelry, for there were a number of round tables with chairs, and a roaring log fire in the far wall. They sat at one of the tables. There were two other men in the room, one of whom was eating, the other waiting to serve.

'I will do the talking,' Lienne said in a low whisper. 'You are unable to talk since birth. You do not know enough Herakian to get by yet. Tomorrow it will be different.'

Talbrik nodded, understanding.

The man carrying a cloth and a jug approached them. He and Lienne had a brief conversation, one or two words of which Talbrik recognised instantly, but he was annoyed to see that the man was shaking his head, and that as the conversation progressed Lienne showed signs of becoming upset. Eventually the man pointed to the door and walked away.

'He says there is nothing you can do that would pay for a meal,' she said.

'Then we will take what we want,' Talbrik whispered.

Lienne laid her tiny hand on his arm.

'You cannot do that. You would be hunted down and we would both be executed. You cannot take what you want without paying.'

'I took the wagon.'

'That was different. The men from whom you took the wagon were themselves thieves. They would have been hunted and executed.'

'Then what are we to do? We cannot starve!'

'We will have to leave.'

'What about him?' Talbrik said, indicating the other man. Although he was well into his meal, there was still plenty of food at his table, certainly enough to satisfy Talbrik and Lienne.

'What about him?'

'Ask him if there is any work I can do for him, and if he will give us food.'

'I will ask. Be careful, the landlord is watching. If he sees you talking to me he will become suspicious.'

Talbrik nodded and closed his mouth tight. The girl went to the other man's table and Talbrik observed that during their conversation she several times pointed to him and the other man nodded his head as if in agreement. At last she beckoned him over.

'You do not have to speak,' she whispered. 'Just listen. This man is looking for someone to escort him to Barbessel. He carries no weapons but he believes his life to be in danger. I have told him that you would be pleased to guard him for the rest of his journey, and for this he is prepared to pay for a meal for us both now, and food and drink until we reach Barbessel.'

Talbrik nodded. Plates and cups were produced by the landlord and they began to eat, taking their share of the food back to their own table as their new employer did not wish to share his table with them.

As the last rays of the evening sun disappeared behind the hills on the western horizon, the man retired to his room and Lienne and Talbrik returned to their wagon. A man from the inn came to take the gandhen away for food and shelter.

'Did you ask his name?' Talbrik demanded.

'No. It is not important.'

'I like to know who I am working for.'

'He did not wish to reveal his name to me. That was one of the conditions of employment for us.'

'Us?'

'I am also employed.'

'As what?'

She did not answer.

'What are you to do for him?' Talbrik demanded.

'What would you imagine a young girl could do for such a man?'

He stared at her open-mouthed.

'You are too young!'

'It is commonplace on Heraklion,' she said, but he could see that she had been crying. Talbrik caught her by the arm as she was climbing out of the wagon.

'You cannot,' he said.

'I have given my promise.'

'I cannot allow you to do this.'

'There is no alternative. We have taken his food and drink. We have entered into a contract with him.'

'You have done this before?'

Lienne shook her head. Her eyes were moist with tears. She pulled away from him and ran back into the inn. For a while Talbrik stared at the walls of the wagon, trying to come to terms with what was going on, but he could not. Abruptly he took his sword and entered the inn. By now all but one of the candles had been extinguished.

The landlord's eyes narrowed as he entered, and as he stood behind a kind of table, Talbrik saw that he was within reach of a kitchen knife. Behind him, a half-naked girl stood in a doorway to what was obviously the kitchen.

'You require a woman perhaps?' the landlord asked quietly. Talbrik shook his head. In other circumstances he may have taken the woman.

'Where is the girl, the young girl,' he said in a whisper.

'I thought you could not speak,' the landlord said. All the while Talbrik had been advancing across the room, and as the landlord's hand closed over the hilt of the knife, Talbrik's sword whipped up to press against his throat.

'Now you know I can,' he said in halting Herakian, but enough to make himself understood.

The landlord muttered something unintelligible in Herakian. Talbrik pressed the point further against the trembling man's skin. The woman emerged from the kitchen doorway and stood cautiously behind the landlord.

'You are from Ancyros?' she whispered, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes.

He nodded.

'Where is the young girl who was with me?' he demanded.

'In one of the upstairs rooms.'

'Take me. Show me. Quickly!'

The woman nodded. As she came from behind the landlord Talbrik saw that she was about twenty years old, extraordinarily beautiful, with long auburn hair tied in a pony-tail. Her clothing was sparse, and filthy, leaving her breasts exposed and reaching only to the very tops of her thighs. He was in no doubt as to what she was employed for. Talbrik picked up the kitchen knife and backed away from the landlord.

'If you move, if you make a sound while I am collecting my daughter, I will kill you. Skende?'

The girl quickly translated what Talbrik had said, and the landlord, an old, balding, small man, nodded excitedly. They went up the wooden stairs and the girl pointed to a door.

'That is his room,' she said.

'Wait here,' Talbrik said, and launched himself at the door, breaking it open with his foot. Inside the room it was quite dark, and the man lay on a simple couch while Lienne was in the process of removing, or putting on her clothes. Talbrik glared ferociously at the man.

'Am I too late?' he demanded of Lienne. 'If I am too late this is his last night on Heraklion!'

Lienne, startled at the interruption, ran to his side, her small breasts bobbing against his arm as she tried to pull on her tunic.

'What are you doing?' she cried.

'Is it too late? Did he touch you?' Talbrik demanded.

'No! Why did you come here? Now you have spoilt everything!'

'He did not touch you?'

Talbrik's arm shot out suddenly and the kitchen knife pinned the man to the wooden bed-head, preventing him from moving.

'No, he did not touch me!'

'Ask him if he has money.'

Lienne stared at Talbrik, her eyes welling with tears.

'Ask him!'

She turned to the man on the couch, who was desperately trying to remove the knife from his arm, which was bleeding copiously.

'Arva gelt?' she said. The man nodded and his eyes travelled to a chair, where there was a small leather purse. The man's hand suddenly reappeared clutching a sword that he must have been hiding under the bedclothes. The blade flashed towards Talbrik but he parried it with his own and drove his blade to the hilt into the man's heart. He died without a sound. The girls looked at each other horrified. Talbrik pointed to the purse.

'Take it,' Talbrik ordered her, and when she had it in her hands, he pulled her from the room, and together with the kitchen girl they went back downstairs to find that the landlord had not moved from where he had been standing.

'Tell the landlord to see to his customer. Tell him that the legendary Marcellus of Barbessel was here tonight. We are leaving,' Talbrik said. Lienne stared at him momentarily, then spoke rapidly in the local dialect and the landlord nodded, frightened, and hurried up the stairs. The kitchen girl rushed after them as they went to the door.

'You cannot leave me here with him!' she cried. 'He will kill me! I helped you! Take me with you.'

'How much is she worth? I assume she is a slave of some sort,' Talbrik said to Lienne.

'She is a kitchen girl. Yes, she is a slave. She is worth a silver coin, at least. She is beautiful.'

'I had not noticed,' Talbrik said. He opened the purse and examined the contents, then selected a small coin and left it on the table.

'Call up to the landlord,' he told the kitchen girl. 'Tell him I have purchased you from him and you now belong to me.'

Outside, they went in search of the gandhen and found them in a stable at the rear of the main building. Within minutes they had hitched them to the wagon and the three of them piled onto the seat and moved off.

Talbrik grinned.

'I think I may enjoy my new life as an assassin,' he said.

Lienne was still crying, and appeared to be falling asleep. The kitchen girl turned her big attractive eyes on Talbrik.

'You are a fool,' she told him. 'There will be a bounty on you now. You have robbed and killed one of the most important men of Barbessel.'

'I have done nothing. I am Talbrik the Assassin. The man who was killed here tonight was killed by Marcellus of Barbessel. In any case, I would remind you that you belong to me,' he said sternly. 'I have paid for you. Mind your manners.'

'You paid for me with money that did not belong to you!' the girl said fiercely. Talbrik stopped the wagon and turned to her.

'Do you wish to dispute the matter of my ownership of you?' he said unpleasantly.

'No.'

'What is your name?'

'Avelline.'

'It will do, I suppose.'

'Where are you headed for?'

'Barbessel.'

'You are a fool! They will be waiting for you!'

'I already told you, they will be waiting for Marcellus of Barbessel!'

'The landlord will describe you to the authorities. He will tell them you were travelling in a wagon with two girls.'

'Are you suggesting that we return to the village and kill the landlord also?' Talbrik asked.

'No!'

'What then?'

'The authorities will be watching out for a man driving a wagon in the company of two women, one of them a young girl!'

'Then we will ditch the wagon at first light, by which time we will be getting near the border with Barbessel.'

Avelline nodded thoughtfully.

'You could make up a story about someone stealing the wagon from us, leaving us to walk.'

'I will make sure I retain one of the gandhen,' Talbrik said, smiling. Avelline considered this momentarily.

'For yourself to ride?'

'Who else would ride it? I am hardly likely to allow my slaves to ride it, am I?'

'You are not really going to keep me as your slave?' Avelline said. Talbrik smiled at her but did not answer. The gandhen trotted on toward the Barbessel border.

'Tell me how you come to be here, Avelline,' Talbrik said.

'It is a long story.'

'We have the night ahead of us. I want to get as near to the border as I can before I despatch the wagon.'

'The girl is asleep.'

'Put her on the sacking in the back. Then tell me how you came to be at that inn.'

Avelline gently lifted the sleeping form of Lienne into the rear of the wagon.

'I was brought from Caspax three years ago,' she said. 'I was one of about twelve. We were kidnapped, and transported to Hethoum. We were chained together and taken to the nearest city where we were put up for auction. I was bought by a man to cook and - you know - for him. He could only afford one slave. He took me to his apartment in some tall building in the middle of the city and I was his, well, his slave. I was forced to do everything he told me to. If I refused, or if I did things wrong, he beat me with a crop. Eventually he became dissatisfied with me and I was put up for sale, and after a while I was bought by a woman to work in her establishment. As a prostitute. Men came to the house and selected one of us and paid the woman lots of money and took us to rooms. Sometimes they would pay for more than one of us. I stayed there for about a year. I believe I was fairly popular. Then the woman was arrested and taken away and the establishment was closed down and we were taken to the auctions and I was purchased by the landlord. I have been with him ever since. I wait at tables and if a customer wants me he has me, provided he has the right money.'

'You sound extremely philosophical about it all,' Talbrik said.

'What else could I do? It was perform and survive or refuse and die. The beatings I got from the first man were pretty awful, I can tell you. He made me parade around the room in front of him stark naked while he leered and touched me and drooled.'

'And the brothel? You fared better there?'

'Not really. Most men carry swords and knives and whips. To keep slave girls in order. We are valued less than animals. It is degrading.'

'But you preferred it to dying?'

Avelline laughed. It was hollow, empty laughter.

'Men are so arrogant! They think they are so much better than women! What would you have done? What would you have done if some rich woman had bought you and made you parade around her room stark naked while she watched you and fondled you? What would you have done, eh? And let me tell you this! There are male slaves too! Just remember that!'

Talbrik smiled.

'Don't take it out on me! I didn't bring you here in the first place! I didn't put you through it all! You have my sympathy. I promise you!'

Avelline glared at him fiercely.

'But I still belong to you! You paid the landlord for me with the silver coin!' she said in a fierce whisper.

'You're free to go,' Talbrik said. 'I give you your freedom.'

She stared at him, her mouth half open.

'You do what?'

'I give you your freedom. You chose to come with me rather than stay at the inn with the landlord.'

'What else could I have done?'

'I don't know. I paid for you with money I took from the man I killed. It wasn't my money, therefore I do not own you. Therefore you are free.'

'Free to do what?'

'What do you mean?'

'Where can I go like this, half naked and penniless?' she demanded.

Talbrik shrugged his shoulders.

'We'll get you some clothing when we reach Barbessel.'

'You mean that? You mean I am really free?'

'I said so didn't I? Now settle down. Are we still travelling alongside those bogs?'

'Bogs?'

'The marshlands. Lienne was telling me about them. The Bogs of Praphet or something like that.'

'Yes, the marsh is the other side of the ditch.'

'Is it deep?'

'Deep enough for what?'

'For the wagon.'

'Yes, I should think so.'

'Right. At first light we will ditch the wagon and walk the rest of the way. Is it far now?'

'We are virtually at the border.'

'Will there be border guards?'

'No. No guards. The border with Hethoum is open. The provinces are allies.'

'Right. When she wakes up we ditch the wagon.'

'And the gandhen?'

'Why not?'

'They will not survive out here.'

'Why?'

'There are predatory animals. The gandhen have been totally domesticated. They are not wild, like silthen, or deichen, which are never anything except wild.'

'Are they like the big beasts I saw earlier?'

'Silthen are ferocious and cannot be trusted. Some men keep them for hunting down escaped slaves. Deichen are for riding and pulling wagons, like gandhen. They can never be completely tamed but if you can get near enough you can ride them. Some of the warriors ride them.'

'The ones I saw were bigger than these.'

Avelline shook her head.

'They are grazing creatures. They are inquisitive and quite dangerous if they charge, but ordinarily they do not harm men. Also, it is said that there are some dangerous creatures in the marshes.'

'We will take the gandhen with us.'

'The greatest danger, of course, will be from brigands.'

'Brigands?'

'There are groups of brigands who would think nothing of killing you and taking Lienne and myself. They hunt around the border. They ride fast gandhen and they carry spears and bows and arrows which they shoot from the backs of their deichen. I am surprised we have got this far without falling foul of them.'

Talbrik reined in the ponies and told Avelline to wake Lienne. He jumped down from the wagon and started to unhitch the gandhen, and then froze as he felt the cold steel of a spear-point pressed against the back of his neck.

'Do not move,' a voice said, and Talbrik understood perfectly well what he must not do. He raised his hands slowly above his head in a gesture of surrender.

'Who are you?'

'Talbrik the Assassin,' he replied.

'Where are you headed?'

'Barbessel.'

'A contract?'

'A - maybe a contract.'

Avelline appeared at the front of the wagon, with Lienne peering sleepily from behind her.

'Your women?'

Talbrik nodded. He desperately wanted to turn round, but dared not. He did not trust his reflexes against an Herakian warrior. This was undoubtedly a brigand, and there would undoubtedly be more than just the one.

'Climb down,' the man said. Talbrik was aware of footsteps behind him.

'Search the wagon,' the man said. From the corner of his eye Talbrik saw three men climb into the wagon and another slide underneath.

'Just fruit inside,' a voice called.

'Something here,' the man underneath the wagon said, and slid out clutching a small sack.

'Feels like coins,' the second man said.

'Open it and have a look,' the first man ordered.

Talbrik heard the chink of coins.

'Quite a good haul. Where were you taking this money?' the leader asked Talbrik.

'I didn't know it was there,' Talbrik said.

The men standing around him laughed heartily.

'Your wagon?'

'It was. It is presumably yours now,' Talbrik said.

Again the men laughed.

'Astute.'

'Was it always your wagon?'

'Since I did not know that there was money concealed beneath it, you may surmise that it was not always mine.'

'And the women?'

'They also I have only recently acquired.'

'Your speech is not that of an Herakian native.'

'I am finding it hard to keep up with you. I arrived in Hethoum only yesterday.'

'And yet you claim to be Talbrik the Assassin.'

'That is what I am now known as.'

'Turn around.'

Slowly Talbrik turned to face his captors. Before him stood a man at least two inches taller than himself, an enormous man with a shock of jet black hair and a beard the same colour. He wore a leather tunic and leather pants, and carried a short spear. At his belt there was a knife and a whip, coiled. The other men were similarly dressed, and although none were quite as tall as the leader, all were big, powerful men. A few paces away a young woman stood holding the reins of their mounts.

'On your way to Barbessel.'

'As I told you.'

'A contract.'

'Maybe.'

'We found the bodies of two men back along the trail. This was their wagon, perhaps?'

'Perhaps.'

'We found the body of a man in the inn back along the trail. Was it you that killed him?'

'It was not.'

'The landlord put a name to the killer.'

'Oh?'

'The landlord said that his guest was murdered by Marcellus of Barbessel.'

'So?'

'You say your name is Talbrik the Assassin.'

'That is the name I go by.'

'You are not Marcellus of Barbessel, then?'

'That is not my name.'

'It is just as well you are not Marcellus of Barbessel. A warrant has been issued for his execution.'

'Oh?'

'There is also a reward for his capture.'

'Oh.'

'You are certain you are not Marcellus of Barbessel?'

'I told you.'

'Of course! Silly of me! Marcellus of Barbessel has a scar running from above his eye to his cheek.'

'I do not have such a scar.'

The black-haired man stepped nearer. He raised his spear.

'It is a handsome reward. You are about his size, and your appearance is similar.'

'I am not Marcellus of Barbessel. You have not told me your name.'

The black-haired man grinned broadly.

'I am Swarbard. It means 'black and hairy'. You are from Ancyros?'

'I am.'

'And you are not Marcellus of Barbessel because you do not have the scar that he has.'

'Correct.'

'It is a great pity. You bear him some resemblance. I could have claimed the reward for his capture and death.'

'But I have no - '

Swarbard's spear flashed out suddenly, before Talbrik could think to move, and then there were half a dozen swords levelled at his chest and he felt the bright sting of a slash to his face. Raising his hand he felt fresh blood pouring down over his mouth and traced the line of the cut, from above his eye to his cheek. Lienne screamed and cowered behind Avelline, who gasped in astonishment at the suddenness of the attack.

Swarbard grinned.

'Now you look like Marcellus of Barbessel!' he roared. 'I can kill you now and claim the reward!'

Talbrik paled, racking his brain for something to say that might dissuade the brigand from ending his brief stay on Heraklion there and then. It was Lienne who broke the tension.

'To claim the reward you would have to take him to Barbessel. There they would identify him, and they would know he is not Marcellus. There is little point in killing him!'

'He is more trouble alive than dead,' Swarbard said.

'He is an assassin!' Lienne cried, leaping from the wagon. 'He has been in Hethoum less than a day and already he has killed three men!' Lienne said. 'He is a born killer.'

'A born killer would have protected his back, and his property,' Swarbard said. 'He would not have let us creep up on him like that.'

'He needs training, that is all!'

'I have all the men I need. I think I shall just kill him and take you two and the gandhen, that is what I shall do.'

'No, please, he will make a great assassin!' Lienne cried, and forced her way past Swarbard to stand next to Talbrik. He smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.

'She is my daughter,' he explained. Swarbard nodded.

'Clearly she is not your daughter, and clearly you are not an assassin, and you are from Ancyros. There is no reason why I should let you live.'

'Skenda,' Talbrik said.

'You do not plead for your life?'

Talbrik shook his head.

'There is no point. You will make up your own mind.'

'The girl has interceded for you. What would you prefer me to do? Kill you or allow you to live?'

'I might be of some use to you.'

'So you do want to plead for your life?'

'I will not beg. If you are going to kill me, get it over with.'

'In what way might you be useful to me? What can you do?'

'Fight. Kill people.'

Swarbard picked up Talbrik's sword and tossed it to him. Then he turned to his men.

'Gorno,' he called. 'Come forward.' A tall, powerfully-built man, heavily scarred, walked forward from the group.

'Here you are, Talbrik the Assassin,' Swarbard said, grinning. 'Kill him.'

Gorno drew his sword. Talbrik frowned, not understanding. Gorno lunged suddenly at him, cutting him on the upper left leg. Talbrik winced and stepped back, parrying the remainder of the thrust and preventing further damage to his leg. He glared at Swarbard.

'What's going on?'

'Kill him or be killed,' Swarbard said carelessly and walked away. 'Call me when it's over.'

Gorno swung again at Talbrik, narrowly missing his head. Talbrik staggered back against the wagon, knocking his forehead and drawing blood. Spinning round he was barely in time to knock Gorno's sword aside, deflecting it from his stomach. At last he snapped into action. He planted his feet firmly and their blades met with a resounding crash, and Gorno fell backwards with the sheer force of Talbrik's blow. Talbrik stumbled forward, not sure what to do next, and Gorno's booted foot crashed against his shin, sending him reeling, his sword flying from his grasp. Gorno was quickly on his feet, his sword raised, and only by scrambling backwards up the slope could Talbrik evade the wild man's attack.

His hand closed over the hilt of the sword, and he wished fervently that it was a revolver, but he lifted it all the same, fending off another thrust that would have ripped open his chest. He staggered to his feet and swung his own blade, catching Gorno behind the ear, slicing off a small portion of it. Blood poured from the wound, down Gorno's neck and onto his open-shirted chest. Pressing home his advantage, Talbrik swung again, this time embedding his blade in his opponent's upper arm, again drawing copious amounts of blood. Gorno bared his teeth and snarled, leaping forward, and lashing out with his feet and his fist, and attempting to disembowel Talbrik with an upward thrust of his blade.

Talbrik lurched sideways at the last moment and planted his boot on the seat of the man's pants, sending him sprawling. He flung himself on top of Gorno, kicking, punching, biting, and managed to secure him face down on the wet grass, his sword out of reach. Raising his own sword, Talbrik prepared to drive it deep into the man's back, but Gorno reared up suddenly, dislodging Talbrik and at the same time reaching for a knife in the back of his belt. He snapped his head upwards, catching Talbrik on the bridge of the nose, and as the blood flew from it, he turned and flung himself at Talbrik, the point of his knife raised to pierce his heart. Talbrik raised his arm to fend off the blow and felt the blade of the knife penetrate his forearm to the hilt, and bit his tongue at the unbelievable pain that followed. His head reeled with the nausea and waves of pain that shuddered through his body, and he turned onto his knees and was violently sick into the grass, the vomit mixing freely with the blood which still poured from his broken nose.

He groped around for his sword, knowing that at any second Gorno would have wrenched the blade free of his arm and would kill him. At last his fingers found the blade of the sword and he dragged it into his hand, as Gorno lunged at him and twisted the knife savagely out of his arm. He watched in horror as Gorno impaled himself on the upturned blade and collapsed without a murmur on top of him. For a moment it seemed that there was utter silence, even though Talbrik was keenly aware that both Lienne and Avelline were screaming their lungs out at the terror of watching the horrific fight. Then the din resounded in his ears and he realised that for a brief moment he had stopped breathing.

As the oxygen flooded back into his lungs his body jerked back to life. He sat up wearily, covered from head to toe with blood, and turning his head was again enormously sick into the grass. The two girls hauled the dead body of Gorno off Talbrik and began to examine him. Avelline tore the bottom part of her skirt into strips and began to bandage his wounds, cleaning them gently as she did so. Lienne brought one of the tubers from the back of the wagon and cut it open for him to drink the juice. He was glad of the night, for he knew that had he seen himself there and then he would have passed out with the horror of the sight he must surely present. Even so he again felt waves of nausea cascade through him and laid back in the cool, wet grass rather than disgrace himself again. Gorno's companions had by now appraised Swarbard of the outcome of the duel and he returned, still grinning.

'Now there is room for you in my band,' he roared, slapping Talbrik's thigh and starting it bleeding again. 'I will train you. I will teach you everything I know. You will be one of my best men.'

'You will take us all?' Avelline enquired anxiously.

'Of course I will take you all!' Swarbard roared, patting her on the bottom. 'I will look after you while your lover recovers from his wounds!'

'He is not my lover,' she said, blushing fiercely.

'Then he has nothing to complain of!' Swarbard cried, and walked away from Talbrik, dragging her with him. Lienne helped Talbrik unsteadily to his feet and together they staggered after Swarbard's band.

'Perhaps now you wish you had never come to Hethoum,' she whispered, helping him to keep pace with the others. He looked down at her young face grimly, and managed a smile.

'I did not dream there could be a place like this,' he said.