Soon, the time would come when she would once again seek him. The pa-thetic mortal soul standing in her way would not frustrate her the next time she found her weapons-no, her righteous blades would cut and slash him to pieces.
The thought made her fling her arms into the air as she whirled. Such joy!
She had a gift. It was her duty to deliver it.
Whether you like it or not.
No, he could not refuse. If he did, why, she would have to kill him.
Bone white, the enormous beasts stood on the ridge, side on, their heads turned to watch Karsa Orlong as he cantered Havok ever closer. He sensed his horse tensing beneath him, saw the ears flick a moment before he became aware that he was being flanked by more Hounds-these ones darker, heavier, short-haired except-ing one that reminded him of the wolves of his homeland, that tracked him with amber eyes.
‘So,’ Karsa murmured, ‘these are the Hounds of Shadow. You would play games with me, then? Try for me, and when we’re done few of you will leave this place, and none will be free of wounds, this I promise you. Havok, see the black one in the high grasses? Thinks to hide from us.’ He grunted a laugh. ‘The others will feint, but that black one will lead the true charge. My sword shall tap her nose first.’
The two white beasts parted, one trotting a dozen or so paces along the ridge the other turning round and doing the same in the opposite direction in the gap now between them, shadows swirled like a dust-devil.
Karsa could feel a surge of battle lust within him, his skin prickling beneath the fixed attention of seven.savage beasts, yet be held his gaze on that smudge of gloom, where two figures were now visible. Men, one bare-headed and the other hooded and leaning crooked over a knobby cane.
The Hounds to either side maintained their distance, close enough for a swift charge but not so close as to drive Havok into a rage. Karsa reined in six paces from the strangers and eyed them speculatively.
The bare-headed one was plainly featured, pale as if unfamiliar with sunlight, his dark hair straight and loose, almost ragged. His eyes shifted colour in the sun-light, blue to grey, to green and perhaps even brown, a cascade of indecision that matched his expression as he in turn studied the Toblakai.
The first gesture came from the hooded one with the hidden face, a lifting of the cane in a half-hearted waver. ‘Nice horse,’ he said.