Samar Dev said to Karsa, 'I think their use of the term "revenant" is meant for anything or anyone not from their world. But the foes they speak of come from ships. That seems unlikely were they in truth undead. The breath of shamans sounds like sorcery.'
'Boatfinder,' Karsa said, 'when I am done here you will lead me to the revenants.'
The colour drained from the man's face. 'It is many, many days of travel, Deliverer. I think to send word that you are coming – to the clans of the north-'
'No. You will accompany us.'
'But – but why?'
Karsa stepped forward, one hand snapping out to clutch Boatfinder by the neck. He dragged the man close. 'You shall witness, and in witnessing you will become more than what you are now. You shall be prepared – for all that is coming, to you and your miserable people.'
He released the man, who staggered back, gasping. 'My own people once believed they could hide,' the Teblor said, baring his teeth. 'They were wrong. This I have learned, and this you will now learn. You believe the revenants are all that shall afflict you? Fool. They are but the first.'
Samar watched the giant warrior walk back to his butchering.
Boatfinder stared after him with glistening, terror-filled eyes. Then he spun about, hissed in his own language. Six warriors rushed forward, past their leader, drawing knives as they approached Karsa.
'Teblor,' Samar warned.
Boatfinder raised his hands. 'No! No harm is sought you, Deliverer.
They now help you with the cutting, that is all. The bounty is prepared for you, so that we need waste no time-'
'I want the hides cured,' Karsa said.
'Yes.'
'And runners to deliver to us those hides and smoked meat from this kill.'
'Yes.'
'Then we can leave now.'
Boatfinder's head bobbed, as if he could not trust his own voice in answer to that final demand.
Sneering, Karsa retrieved his knife and walked over to a nearby pool of brackish water, where he began washing the blood from the blade, then from his hands and forearms.
Samar Dev drew close to Boatfinder as the half-dozen warriors fell to butchering the dead bhederin. 'Boatfinder.'
He glanced at her with skittish eyes. 'You are a witch – so the Deliverer calls you.'
'I am. Where are your womenfolk? Your children?'
'Beyond this swamp, west and north,' he replied. 'The land rises, and there are lakes and rivers where we find the black grain, and among the flat-rock, berries. We are done our great hunt in the open lands, and now they return to our many camps with winter's meat. Yet,' he gestured at his warriors, 'we follow you. We witness the Deliverer slaying the bhederin. He rides a bone-horse – we do not see a bonehorse ridden. He carries a sword of birth-stone. The Iron Prophet tells our people of such warriors – the wielders of birth-stone. He says they come.'
'I have not heard of this Iron Prophet,' Samar Dev said, frowning.
Boatfinder made a gesture and faced south. 'To speak of this, it is the frozen time.' He closed his eyes, and his tone suddenly changed. '
In the Time of Great Slaying, which is the frozen time of the past, the Anibar dwelt on the plains, and would travel almost to the East River, where the great walled camps of the Ugari rose from the land, and with the Ugari the Anibar would trade meat and hides for iron tools and weapons. The Great Slaying came to the Ugari, then, and many fled to seek refuge among the Anibar. Yet the Slayers followed, the Mezla they were called by the Ugari, and a terrible battle was fought and all those who had sheltered among the Anibar fell to the Mezla.
'Fearing retribution for the aid given to the Ugari, the Anibar prepared to flee – deeper into the Odhan – but the leader of the Mezla found them first. With a hundred dark warriors, he came, yet he stayed their iron weapons. The Anibar were not his enemy, he told them, and then he gave warning – others were coming, and they would be without mercy. They would destroy the Anibar. This leader was the Iron Prophet, King Iskar Jarak, and the Anibar heeded his words, and so fled, west and north, until these lands here and the forests and lakes beyond, became their home.' He glanced over to where Karsa, his supplies gathered, sat astride his Jhag horse, and his voice changed once more. 'The Iron Prophet tells us there is a time when, in our greatest peril, wielders of the birth-stone come to defend us. Thus, when we see who travels our land, and the sword in his hands… this time is soon to be a frozen time.'
Samar Dev studied Boatfinder for a long moment, then she faced Karsa.
