105
Warily the Vakeros move forward to surround you, their spears held out at arm’s length as if they are afraid to come too close. Their officer, a young lieutenant, steps a pace nearer and you can see that he is sweating profusely. It is a warm night but this is not the reason he is perspiring: he is terrified. Then he recognizes the style of your tunic, and when he looks carefully at your face you see the whipcord tension in his body begin to ease.
‘You’re a Kai?’
‘Yes,’ you reply. ‘I’m a journeyman bound for Elzian.’
The Vakeros signals to his men and expertly they couch their spears and form up into a column in readiness to march.
‘Well, Master Kai,’ says the lieutenant, ‘you’re going to have to come with us.’
