"We have to go now!" Frost hissed as she ran into Alam's tent.

"Why are you covered in blood?" Alam stood up in shock. She was a mess.

"Here is your box. I hope it was worth it." She threw it to him and ran to Tajar's tent.

Alam caught it in two hands. The world changed jarringly. Colour was gone but his sight was much clearer than the last vision - less obscured. The woman in the vision was weeping. Her face was puffy with tears. In response, a baby started crying. Alam recognised that he was again seeing through the infant's eyes though he had no emotional connection with the baby, or the woman for that matter. The woman kissed him, or at least kissed the baby whose eyes he was seeing through, over and over. She placed the child on the cold, hard ground and backed away from him and out of his vision.

Suddenly Alam was back in the tent.

"Why are you showing me this woman and baby?" he muttered to the box.

Is the baby in danger?

Is the woman Clarisai?

He gripped the box and closed his eyes in an attempt to bring the vision back. It did not work.

Frost stuck her head in Alam's tent. "What are you doing? We need to go! Now!"

Alam silently grabbed a blanket, wrapped his meagre possessions in it, and followed Frost and Tajar outside. Within minutes they were at the large corral where Khashbal Clan kept their horses. They rushed and easily overpowered the two warriors who were supposed to be looking after the animals. In truth they had been taking better care of their wine skins than the horses. After they were gagged and bound the three companions opened the gate to choose a steed. Frost and Tajar grabbed the first ones that they could reach, but Alam climbed the corral gate and peered over the milling horses.

"Hurry up!" Frost said. "What are you looking for?"

"Mist. Tajar, help me find her. It won't be hard. If she's here she'll be the biggest one."

"This is taking too much time!" Frost complained.

"Then stop talking and help us," Tajar bit back. He let go of the horse he had chosen and started walking through the agitated animals.

"I see her!" said Alam. He vaulted over the fence and strode up to his horse. "Hello girl. I've missed you."

How and where Frost had found the saddles, bits and bridles Alam and Tajar did not ask as they put the tack on their horses.

"Help me break the corral," said Frost.

"Why?" asked Alam. It was an unthinkable crime.

"So we can't be followed of course!"

"But those horses are the lives and wealth of their owners!" Alam argued back.

"They are also our death!"

"Have you no honour?" scorned Tajar.

"If all the horses escape how will the clan survive?" demanded Alam.

"At the moment I'm thinking more about how we will survive."

"Clearly," said Tajar.

"Frost," Alam said with forced patience. "Here on the Plains honour is important in both life and death. It is considered better to die an honourable death than live a long life in shame. We will leave the corral intact, with all the horses inside."

"Fine!" she spat. "As long as you realise that your honourable life is going to be less than a day long!"

The first hints of dawn were touching the eastern horizon when they left the camp riding hard. After a few minutes riding they rounded a small hillock and came face to face with two perimeter guards.

"Announce yourselves!" one of them shouted in alarm. The moonlight caught on their pointed spears.

Tajar, Alam and Frost reined in their horses.

"We are free to go as we wish." Frost stated calmly. "King Kirill himself has said so."

"Those are the criminals that were freed," the other guard said to his companion. "I saw it myself."

"Very well. Travel safely and congratulations on your freedom."

***

Dawn was coming. During the night, from the safety of the shadows, Serik had seen the white haired woman sneak out of her tent only to return in a state of agitation some minutes later. His brows creased with concern when he then saw her hastily leading Alam and Tajar out of their tents and towards the corral. They were packed lightly for travel. They were running away.

The time had come to warn Urlock. After that the Khashbal chief would have to be warned that a murderer, a demon of a man, was amongst them.

***

Chief Urlock was happy. The weather was warm, the bounty from the valley raid had fetched good trades at the market, Alam and Tajar had survived, and most importantly Shaleh was betrothed to a respected man from the most powerful tribe on The Endless Plains. Nurlan had even give both him and Shaleh a gift instead of expecting a dowry to be paid to the Khashbal Clan. Clan Meet could not have gone better. For the first time in weeks he woke up feeling positive about the future. He gazed affectionately at Pim asleep next to him and at Shaleh across the tent on her pallet. All was well with the world.

A gentle tapping sounded on the tent flap.

"Chief Urlock?" It was Serik.

Urlock's spirit plummeted. His scoutmaster would never interrupt him this early unless something was wrong. As quietly as he could, he slid out of bed.

He dressed quickly and went to meet the clan's longest serving warrior.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"We need to go see Kirill."

"Why?"

"Firstly to warn him that there is a killer lurking in the camp somewhere. I followed him for as long as I could but he has evaded me."

"What do you think he wants?"

"It has something to do with Tajar, Alam and the white haired woman, but I do not know what."

"If that is the first thing, what is the second?"

"Tajar, Alam and the woman fled just before dawn."

"Why?"

"Who can say? They looked like thieves afraid to be caught."

"What have those stupid boys gotten mixed up in?" Urlock muttered. "Thank you Serik. You did the right thing by waking me. We will tell him about the killer, but there is no need to inform him of Alam and Tajar's flight quite yet."

When they reached Kirill's tent the door guards were absent and the flap was wide open. Suddenly a horn blared into life from inside the tent. It was the call for warriors - the call to battle. Wailing sprang up from inside the tent. Urlock drew his sword and rushed inside. What he saw was appalling.

Kirill's wife was sobbing and covered in dried blood. The warriors were cutting ropes that had bound her feet and hands. Her forehead was covered by a vivid purple bruise. Kirill lay dead and wide-eyed on his bed with something long and white sticking out of his chest. A flap of fabric had been cut in the back of the tent.

He rushed to Kirill's wife, whose name, he realised, he still did not know.

"How did this happen, Lady?"

"It was the foreign woman with the white hair." She was shaking.

"Go on," he urged softly.

"I woke up with a knife at my throat. She tied me up and then stabbed him in the heart. She put a gag in his mouth to hide his noise and forced me at knife point to lie to the guards when they asked if everything was fine. She then left through that hole," she said, pointing to the hanging flap of fabric.

Urlock looked at Serik and indicated the hole in the tent with a slight movement of his head.

"Track her Serik. Be swift."

Serik nodded and left the tent.

"How skilled a tracker is he?" the wife asked.

"There is no-one better on The Endless Plains. He will find the murderer."

"Thank you Chief Urlock."

"Lady Chumerra, I will fetch Tolegan and Nurlan," one of the tent guards offered.

"Good," she replied. She rose to her feet and turned to the remaining door guard. "Go to the tents of all the clan chiefs and tell them to come. There is much to be decided." Once he was gone she returned to Urlock. "Chief Urlock, will you carry my husband's leadership chair outside for me?"

"Of course, Lady," he said. She brushed herself off and seemed to control her grief. She lifted her chin. The tears were gone.

By the time all the chiefs had arrived she had managed to get warriors to hold six tapestries on poles in a circle in front of her tent. She sat quiet and still on Kirill's heavy chair. The assembled crowd were murmuring loudly. The rumour of the murder had gone through every tent in the camp.

Serik silently appeared at Urlock's elbow.

"Chief, I have followed the footprints," Serik whispered

"And?"

"As I saw last night, her tracks go straight to Alam and Tajar's coloured tents. From the tents the three of them went to the corral. I found two warriors tied up. Once I had cut their bonds and removed their gags they said that the woman, Alam and Tajar took horses and rode north."

"How long ago?"

"Three or four hours."

"What have those stupid boys gotten themselves into?" Urlock cursed quietly.

In front of them Chumerra rose from the chair and addressed the crowd. "People of the plains! By now you will have heard rumour of my husband's murder. It is true! He was slain in his sleep last night in the most dishonourable of ways!" She then recounted the same version of events that she had told Urlock and the guards in the tent mere moments ago, but gone was the weeping grief stricken woman. Before them now was a woman animated by vengeance. As she told her story the crowds around her were stirred up with indignation at the crime. Before she finished people were calling out their desire to hunt down the white haired woman.

She turned to Chief Urlock. "Chief! Did your tracker find any information?"

"Yes Lady. It was definitely the white haired woman. She left on horseback heading north some four hours ago."

"Was she alone?"

Urlock's heart sunk. He had hoped to be able to keep Alam and Tajar's involvement out of the ears of the crowd.

"No. The two warriors that Kirill freed last night ride with her."

Again the call was shouted among the crowd to hunt and kill the criminals.

"Yes, we will hunt them down! But first there is an important decision to be made for Khashbal Clan! Who will rule it now that my husband is dead? Only a Khashbali may speak to this matter!"

Silence.

Finally someone stepped forward. It was an older man. "Nurlan should rule. He is wise, strong, is of noble blood, and has all the best qualities of his father. Warriors follow him with ease because they know he will do anything he asks of them, and more."

All eyes pivoted to Nurlan whose head was bowed. The silence was heavy as people waited for him to respond. When he lifted his head he simply shook his head in refusal.

"I claim leadership!" Tolegan stepped forward instantly. "I was Kirill's most trusted warrior and have led men since I was a youth! I was raised from infancy to be a warrior and leader! There is no-one more deserving!"

"And if someone were to dispute your claim?" Chumerra asked.

"Then I would gladly challenge them in battle for it."

"Very well," said Chumerra. "I accept your challenge."

A gasp of shock went up through the crowd. All eyes darted between Tolegan, the stocky warrior of countless victories, and Chumerra, so slight and feeble.

"You can not be serious, Lady," said Tolegan.

"I am deadly serious," she replied. She took a sword from one of the tapestry holding guards and moved forward. It was ungainly and heavy in her hands. People stepped back so that the six tapestries created the boundary of a fighting arena.

"Lady, do you really wish for death so much?" Tolegan asked as his sword rang out of its sheath.

"I do. I have wanted it for a long time." A strange smile played on her lips. She raised her left hand in a flourish before placing it with her right on the sword hilt.

Serik gripped Urlock's arm.

"Chief!" he whispered. "We should leave! She is a sorcerer!"

"What?"

"Look at the tapestries." The threads shimmered with moving light. It was subtle, but could only be magic. "They appeared when she flicked her hand."

Urlock swore under his breath. "Move through the crowd and tell any Empa you see to quickly return to our tents. We leave now."

-------------------------------------

Your comments are really valuable to me. Thank you for them.

-Y. V. Qualls