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Figures on the plain Walking, dust roiling up behind the frohtless eyes and expressions twisted with fearful recognition – faces seeing their own deaths – blind to his own presence as theyup within him, a vast sense of loss Grief, then the bitter whisper of betrayal

Someone will pay for this Someone will pay

Someone

Sohts were another’s, but the voice, there in the centre of his skull – that voice was his own

A dead warrior walked close Tall, black-skinned A sword had taken leamed, latticed with red cracks from some fierce impact

A flash of motion

Metal-clad hand crashed into the side of Udinaas’s head Blood sprayed He was in a cloud of grey ash, on the ground Blinking burning fire

He felt gauntleted fingers close about his left ankle His leg was viciously yanked upward

And then the warrior began dragging hi?

‘The Lady is harsh’

The Lady?

‘Is harsh’

She awaits us at journey’s end?

‘She is not one aits’

He twisted as he was pulled along, found hi back at the furrow he’dto the horizon And black blood elling fro me? Whom do I wound ?

The thunder of hoofs

‘She coled to raise his head

A piercing screaing Udinaas Cutting it in half The hand fell away from his ankle and he rolled to one side as iron-shod hoofs thundered past

She blazed, blinding white A sword flickering like lightning in one hand In the other, a double-bladed axe that dripped soht but bones, bound by fire

The huge skeletal beast tossed its head as it wheeled round The woold A headdress of arching, gilt scales rose like hackles about her head Weapons lifted

And Udinaas stared into her eyes

He flinched away, scrabbling to his feet, then running

Hoofs pounded behind hihter Dawn Menandore-

Before hiside the one dragging hi froain and again They keep dying-

He ran