a gallop.
“They’ll find your friends,” the woman promised Vaelin. “I told them to keep any archers alive. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you say goodbye before I flay them.” Tugging her reins, she pointed her stallion’s nose north. “We ride for the tor. And you,” she added, casting a baleful glance over her shoulder at Sherin, “had better pray your skills match your legend.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
The tor rose from the plain into the late evening sky, resembling the long-rotted stump of a great tree. The Stahlhast woman had maintained a rigid silence throughout the three-day journey north, ignoring Sherin’s cautious attempts at conversation and spending the evenings sitting at a separate fire. Vaelin could read the depth of the woman’s bloodlust in every glance she shot his way, causing him to ponder the wisdom of allowing himself to sleep. However, after the first night passed without incident, he concluded she was as bound by duty as Sho Tsai or any other soldier. Despite their supposed barbarism, it seemed the Stahlhast didn’t lack discipline.
“So, this is where they get their iron,” he said, eyeing the flanks of the tor, scraped raw and pale by what must have been the labour of generations.
“Metal from the tors, meat from great herds of deer and musk oxen,” the Jade Princess confirmed. “As you said, they want for little and yet strive for more.”
The Stahlhast woman led them towards a dense cluster of stone houses guarding the south-facing approach to the tor, passing a few cultivated fields along the way. Vaelin was struck by the fact that the people tending the fields were all of Far Western appearance. He assumed they must be slaves but saw no guards or whip-bearing overseers. Also, the people were all clad in cloth of good quality and went about their labour with an energetic diligence, many singing songs as they worked.
“Who are they?” he enquired of the Jade Princess.
“Slaves once,” she said, a line appearing in her usually flawless brow as she surveyed the fields. “But no longer, I fear.”
“Why fear it? Liberation is always to be celebrated.”
“A slave in body can still be a slave in mind,” she replied. Her usual flippancy was gone now, her voice possessed of a grave surety that spoke to the vastness of her experience. Sometimes it was easy to forget she had walked this earth for more years than he could imagine. “A slave won’t fight for an owner, but they will fight for a god, especially a god who breaks their chains.”
They skirted the houses where the close-packed streets were rich in the babble of children at play. The town also lacked the stench typical to a place reserved for the lowest orders. Smiling faces were everywhere as people greeted neighbours or chided their offspring. Vaelin noticed that their happiness was not matched in the caustic gaze the Stahlhast woman afforded them, her lips twisting in open contempt. He also saw how the smiles faded and the townsfolk averted their gaze as she passed by.
“It must be hard,” he said to her, “having your property stolen by the Darkblade.”
“Shut your mouth!” she snarled, hand twitching as she resisted the urge to reach for her knife. “His word is not to be questioned by the likes of you.”
She spurred her horse to a canter, aiming for a large encampment in the eastern lee of the tor. The tents were elaborate constructions of animal hide, all patched with numerous repairs that told of many years’ use. They were arranged in an arc around a large corral where a herd of horses raised dust as they gambolled and grazed. Vaelin estimated the camp must be home to at least a thousand people. One of the riders posted in a loose picket line came galloping to intercept their approach, then reined to a halt as the Stahlhast woman waved him aside.
She slowed to a walk as they entered the camp and people emerged from their tents to stare at the strangers she had led into their midst. Vaelin saw little of the curiosity that had coloured the faces of those in the Venerable Kingdom when they beheld foreigners, but plenty of the same suspicion. Men and women of fighting age stared at Vaelin with expressions of naked challenge, whilst others leered at Sherin and the Jade Princess and called out no doubt lustful insults in their own language.
“Calm down,” Sherin told Vaelin as he bridled at the sight of one man holding his