the substantial herd of rodara trailing the small group. An unexpected wealth for so few Awl, leaving possession open to challenge, and it was clear to Redmask as he drew rein on a rise overlooking the encampment that word had preceded them, inciting countless warriors into bold challenge, one and all coveting rodara and eager to strip the beasts away from the mere handful of Renfayar warriors.
Alas, he would have to disappoint them. 'Masarch,' he now said, 'remain here with the others. Accept no challenges.'
'No-one has come close enough to see your mask,' the youth said. 'No-one suspects what you seek, War Leader. As soon as they do, we shall be under siege.'
'Do you fear, Masarch?'
'Dying? No, not any more.'
'Then you are a child no longer. Wait, do nothing.' Redmask nudged his horse onto the slope, gathering it into a collected canter as he approached the Ganetok encampment. Eyes fixed on him, then held, as shouts rose, the voices more angry than shocked. Until the nearer warriors made note of his weapons. All at once a hush fell over the encampment, rippling in a wave, and in its wake rose a murmuring, the anger he had first heard only now with a deeper timbre.
Dray dogs caught the burgeoning rage and drew closer, fangs bared and hackles stiff.
Redmask reined in. His Letherii horse tossed its head and stamped, snorting to warn off the huge dogs.
Someone was coming through the gathered crowd, like the prow of an unseen ship pushing through tall reeds. Settling back on the foreign saddle, Redmask waited.
Hadralt, firstborn son to Capalah, walked with his father's swagger but not his physical authority. He was short and lean, reputedly very fast with the hook-bladed shortswords cross-strapped beneath each arm. Surrounding him were a dozen of his favoured warriors, huge, hulking men whose faces had been painted in a simulacrum of scales, copper in tone yet clearly intended to echo Redmask's own. The expressions beneath that paint were now ones of chagrin.
His hands restless around the fetishes lining his belt, Hadralt glowered up at Redmask. 'If you are who you claim to be, then you do not belong here. Leave, or your blood will feed the dry earth.'
Redmask let his impassive gaze slide over the copper-faced warriors. 'You mouth the echoes, yet quail from the source.' He looked once more upon the war leader. 'I am before you now, Hadralt son of Capalah. Redmask, war leader of the Renfayar clan, and on this day I will kill you.'
The dark eyes widened, then Hadralt sneered. 'Your life was a curse, Redmask. You have not yet earned the right to challenge me. Tell me, will your pathetically few pups fight for you? Your ambition will see them all killed, and my warriors shall take the Renfayar herds. And the Renfayar women – but only of bearing age. The children and elders will die, for they are burdens we will not abide. The Renfayar shall cease to be.'
'For your warriors to gain the right to challenge my kin, Hadralt, they must first defeat my own champions.'
'And where are they hiding, Redmask? Unless you mean that scarred dray that followed you in.'
The laughter at that jest was overloud.
Redmask glanced back at the lone beast. Lying on the ground just to the right of the horse, it had faced down all the other dogs in the area without even rising. The dray lifted its head and met Redmask's eyes, as if the animal not only comprehended the words that had been spoken, but also welcomed the opportunity to face every challenger. He felt something stir in his chest. 'This beast understands courage,' he said, facing Hadralt once more. 'Would that I had ten thousand warriors to match it. Yet all I see before me is you, Hadralt, war leader of ten thousand cowards.'
The clamour that erupted then seemed to blister the air. Weapons flashed into sunlight, the massed crowd edging in. A sea of faces twisted with rage.
Hadralt had gone pale. Then he raised his arms and held them high until the outcry fell away. 'Every warrior here,' he said in a trembling voice, 'shall take a piece of your hide, Redmask. They deserve no less in answer to your words.
You seek to take my place? You seek to lead? Lead . . . these cowards? You have learned nothing in your exile. Not a warrior here will follow you now, Redmask. Not one.'
'You hired an army,' Redmask said, unable to keep the contempt from his