David Gemmell - Waylander III - Hero In The Shadows

'What else do these . . . enhancements do, Eldicar?'

'What do you mean?'

'I seem to have . . . changed in other ways. To have lost . . . something.'

'You have lost nothing you will need as a servant of Kuan-Hador. Now, let me seal that cut.'

As the ride progressed Keeva's tension grew. From the start she had realized this was not going to be an easy task. Most of the horses shied away from Ustarte, nostrils flaring, ears flat against their skulls. There was something about her scent that frightened them. Finally Emrin had brought out an old, sway-backed mare. She was almost blind, and allowed Ustarte to approach. Emrin lifted a saddle from a nearby rail. 'I cannot ride in the usual fashion,' said Ustarte. Emrin stood still, confused. 'My legs are . . . deformed,' she told him. His expression changed to one of embarrassment.

'Perhaps a shabraque would be more suitable,' he said. 'We have several, though they are not comfortable for a long ride. But you will be able to sit sideways upon old Grimtail. Will that suit, Lady?'

'You are very kind. I am sorry to put you to this trouble.'

'No trouble, I assure you.' Emrin moved to the back of the stable and returned with a leopardskin shabraque which he fastened around the pony's neck and belly. He swung to Keeva, who was already sitting upon a tall chestnut gelding. 'I have packed supplies for around three days, and two sacks of grain for the mounts.'

'We must be swift,' said Ustarte suddenly. 'There are riders heading up from the town.'

Emrin tried to lift Ustarte to the pony. He failed. 'Your . . . robes must be very heavy,' he said. The soldier searched around the barn, returning with a three-legged stool. Ustarte stepped on to it, then carefully sat down on the mare's back.

'Keep hold of her mane, Lady. Keeva will take the reins. And you had better carry the stool with you for when you want to mount again.'

Keeva heeled the chestnut forward. Leaning down, she took up the reins of the pony. It did not move. Emrin slapped the beast lightly on the rump and the two mounts walked out into the moonlit yard. In the distance Keeva caught sight of a troop of riders cresting a hill some half a mile away.

Now, an hour later, the two women had covered very little ground. The pony kept stopping and standing stubbornly in place for several minutes at a time, breathing heavily. Its dark flanks were already wet with sweat. Ustarte seemed untroubled. 'They are not following yet,' she said. 'They are searching the palace.'

'If we were being chased by a cripple with a crutch he would have overtaken us by now,' said Keeva.

'The pony is old and tired. I think I shall walk for a while.' Ustarte slipped from the mare's back. Keeva dismounted alongside her, and the two women moved off into the darkness of the trees.

They walked in silence for another hour, then Ustarte stopped. Keeva heard her sigh. She saw tears on the face of the priestess. 'What is wrong?' she asked.

'The killing has begun.'

'At the palace?'

'No, at the Duke's Feast. The Ipsissimus has summoned demons into the hall. The people there are being slaughtered. It is vile!'

'The Grey Man?' asked Keeva, fear swelling.

'He is not there. But he is close by.' Ustarte placed the stool she was carrying on the ground and sat down. 'He is scaling the wall behind the palace, and climbing into a room. Now he waits.'

'What of the riders who came looking for you?'

'They are gathering their mounts and preparing to follow. One of the servants said they had seen us at the stables.'

'Then we must ride. On fast horses they could be upon us in less than an hour.'

Using the stool, Ustarte mounted the pony and they set off once more. The old mare seemed to have gathered strength, and for a little while they made good time. But as they reached the scree slopes above the ruins of Kuan-Hador the beast stumbled. Ustarte climbed down and placed her ear against the pony's flanks. 'Her heart is labouring. She cannot go any further carrying me.'

'We cannot escape on foot,' said Keeva. 'There is still too far to go.'

'I know,' answered Ustarte softly.

Tossing aside the stool the priestess removed her grey gloves. Slowly she undressed, the moonlight gleaming upon the striped fur of her back and flanks. Passing the robe, gloves and soft leather shoes to Keeva she said, 'You ride on. I will meet you where the trail forks on the mountain road.'

'I cannot leave you here,' objected Keeva. 'I made a promise to the Grey Man.'

'You must,' said Ustarte. 'I will deal with the men following, and I will be at the road to meet you. Now go swiftly, for I must prepare. Go!'

Keeva leaned over to take the reins of the pony. 'Leave her,' said Ustarte. 'There is one more service she must provide.' Keeva was about to argue when Ustarte leapt towards the chestnut. Panicked by her scent the big gelding reared, then sprang away down the slope.

Ustarte moved to the old pony. 'I am sorry, my dear,' she said. 'You deserve better than this.' Her talons slashed through the pony's throat. Blood spurted. The mare tried to rear but Ustarte was holding the reins. As the blood pumped out through the severed artery the pony's front legs buckled. Ustarte lay down alongside her, pushing her face into the gaping wound. Swiftly she drank.

Her body writhed and twisted, muscles swelling.

Though not an expert horsewoman Keeva did not panic as the gelding raced down the slope. With one hand on the reins, the other grasping the saddle pommel, she held on grimly. The gelding, only momentarily panicked by the scent of Ustarte's fur, calmed down swiftly, and by the time they reached the first bend in the trail he was moving at a trot Keeva gently tugged on the reins, halting the animal. She stroked the long sleek neck, and whispered soothing words, then swung in the saddle to stare back up the slope.

She was angry now. The Grey Man had asked her to see Ustarte safely away from danger, and now the priestess was going back alone to face the enemy. Keeva swung the gelding and began the long ride back to where she had last seen Ustarte.

It took some time, for the slope was steep. When finally she came upon the scene there was no sign of the beast-woman. The little pony lay dead upon the trail, her throat torn out, blood pooling on the stones. From some distance away Keeva heard a fearful roar. The gelding tensed. Keeva patted his neck. The distant roar came again, accompanied by the screams of terrified horses.

Keeva sat very still, and fear was strong upon her. A part of her wanted to ride on and aid the priestess, but the greater part desired nothing more than to flee, putting as great a distance as possible between herself and the dreadful sounds. In that moment she knew there was no right answer to the problem. If she rode to what she thought was Ustarte's rescue, and was captured, she would not be able to keep her promise to the Grey Man. If she followed Ustarte's orders and rode on, leaving the priestess to her fate, she would also be betraying the Grey Man's trust. Struggling for calm Keeva recalled the last words Ustarte had used. 'I will deal with the men following, and I will be at the road to meet you. Now, go swiftly, for I must prepare. Go!'

She did not say she would try to deal with the men, but that she would deal with them. Keeva gazed down at the dead pony. Ustarte had said she must prepare, and part of that preparation had been to kill the beast. Keeva dismounted and knelt by the body. Blood had spread out across the trail. Just beyond it Keeva saw a blood print on the stone. It was of a huge padded paw. Moving to it, she recognized it as that of a great cat.

All was silence now. There were no more screams in the distance, no echoes of terror.