Snare. Katharine Kerr

      ‘Well, yes.’ Soutan hesitated, his eyes rolling like a spooked horse’s. ‘But –’

      ‘We can’t leave the khan unguarded.’ Warkannan interrupted him. ‘Now, if you figure out a better way to kill our spy, just let me know. I’ll give you one more day. If you can’t think of anything, then we’re leaving the comnee behind.’

      Zayn had been working at learning the language of the Cantons with a zeal that surprised everyone in the comnee. All the adults and older children knew some of the trade talk; many had picked up words and phrases beyond those necessary for the selling of horses. Veradin, who had travelled east often in her long life, spoke it very well indeed. Zayn went from one person to another, learning what they knew and badgering everyone to let him practise. Finally Ammadin asked him why he was putting so much effort into learning Vranz.

      ‘I hate to be in a strange country and not understand a damned word,’ Zayn told her. ‘A man could be insulting you, and here you wouldn’t even know.’

      ‘It sounds like you travelled a lot before you joined us.’

      ‘The Great Khan’s business keeps his cavalry on the move.’

      ‘Oh? How many languages do people speak along the border?’

      Caught – Zayn gave her a sickly sort of smile. ‘Ah well,’ he said at last. ‘I was just speaking generally.’

      ‘I see.’

      He arranged a fake smile, she waited. At length he muttered something about helping Dallador prepare jerky and walked away fast. If I only hadn’t given him my damned word I wouldn’t pry! Ammadin thought. With a growl of irritation she got up and fetched her saddlebags.

      Ammadin left the camp and found a quiet spot near a stream, where she could sit in the cover of a pair of frond-trees to wait for the Riders. Lately she’d had no luck scanning for Zayn’s enemies. Every time she focused the crystal upon them, the sorcerer would chant command words that clouded her crystal. She had, however, managed to hear his chant of power several times, a strange triad of words in the ancient spirit tongue.

      It was time, Ammadin decided, that she tried using her new magic against him. She opened her saddlebags and took out not only the spirit crystals, but four brass cases. Each held a wand about a foot long, carved from Kazraki oak, wound round with red and gold threads, and decorated with two hawk feathers and three golden spirit beads. She left the shade and cleared a place to work out in the full sun. While she chanted a prayer to the six gods, she stuck the plain ends of the wands into the ground to mark a square, roughly four feet on a side. In the middle she laid Long Voice and Spirit Eyes close together, each on top of their pouches, to let them feed while they waited. She laid the other crystals out in the sun, too, but beyond the wand-marked square so they could feed in peace.

      Exposed to the sun the spirit beads began to glow. At first they merely glittered as any gold would in sunlight, but after a few minutes they seemed to catch fire. A pale blue spirit danced upon the surface of each one like a flame fanned by some hidden breeze.