Later that afternoon, Oracus said goodbye to Eistra and left Lalacia with Kivali and Quent. All day, Oracus had been longing to see Bandor again, and just as they reached the base of the mountains, he felt his Lavorian’s mind scratching against his.

“Hello, stranger,” Oracus said excitedly.

“I thought you'd forgotten about me,” Bandor replied, his words echoing in Oracus’s head.

“Of course not,” Oracus answered. “We just left later than we’d intended.”

“Is everything okay?” Bandor asked. “I can feel your anxiety.”

“I’m fine, I think,” Oracus replied. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you though.”

Within an hour, Bandor had rejoined the group and they were following a winding footpath that directed them south between the high peaks. Oracus immediately told Bandor of his dream in the library, and they then spent the rest of the day debating whether it was a real vision or not. Bandor had suggested speaking to Kivali, but Oracus wanted to keep it to himself, at least until he had met Catania in Tallarin and had the chance to compare her to the Catania in his dreams.

Between secret chats with Bandor, Oracus would spar with Kivali. Since his single victory in the Raspian Forest several days ago, he’d been unable to defeat her again, and he was being struck down with boring regularity.

“Come on, Oracus. I haven't needed to use my power once yet!” Kivali cried impatiently as the late afternoon sun was beginning to set.

Oracus hit the ground again, this time holding his knee. When he glanced back up at her, she urged him to attack, and he duly obliged. When he swung at her head, she ducked, and as he stabbed his blade at her ribs, she vanished from sight, only to reappear behind him and hold her sword at the back of his neck.

“Let us hope King Jowra falls onto your sword out of pity,” Quent chuckled with delight.

They continued along the mountain path until the sun had fallen behind the peaks and darkness had settled around them. Oracus’s legs were beginning to ache, and he longed for a place to camp, but then Bandor stopped in his tracks and ordered them all to be quiet.

“What's wrong?” Oracus asked him aloud.

“I can hear voices coming from the path ahead,” Bandor replied quietly.

“Then we need to get out of sight!” Kivali hissed urgently. She ushered them all into the thicket beside the path and they lay very still in the bushes. “Don't make a sound,” she ordered.

Oracus peered nervously through the leaves until a strange group of creatures passed them by, most of them chattering in nasal tones. The dozen creatures that were talking were thin and pale, with filthy rags that covered their torsos. Their fingers were long and dexterous, and their faces sharp and cunning, with fangs creeping over their bottom lip. Oddly, Oracus recognised the creatures, because one had served him rotten food during his short imprisonment in Fervia. The memory of the creature sniffing his arm made his shudder. The other three beasts that walked with the spindly creatures, however, Oracus didn’t recognise. They were all big and dumb, with darker skin and a huge oval head on top of a thick neck. Their arms were so long their fists almost dragged along the gravel path, and as their stumpy legs plodded forwards, their bare feet scuffed clumsily on the ground. They wore only brown leather shorts, leaving their hairy barrel chests exposed to the cool night air. While they walked, two of the beasts were scratching their heads stupidly, while the other was smelling his armpit.

“Look, they have prisoners!” Bandor observed.

Oracus had been so interested in the creatures he hadn’t noticed the two shackled men in the centre of the group. They both looked exhausted, but were being prodded with a sharp stick to keep them moving forwards. Oracus’s eyes widened, and he wondered what might happen to the men.

When the group finally passed by and were out of sight, Oracus sighed with relief. “That was a close one!” he said. “It’s lucky we have Bandor here or we would have ended up like those two prisoners.” He stood up and brushed himself down. “What were those things anyway?”

“Grevlors and Lisors,” Kivali answered as she followed Oracus out of the thicket. “Jowra’s minions. They search the mountains for travellers and take them back to his cities to be imprisoned. The Grevlors are the sly, sinister ones, and the Lisors are basically their bodyguards. But the Lisors are as stupid as they come.”

Back on the path, Oracus started heading south again. Until Kivali stopped him.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Oracus stared blankly back at her. “To Tallarin – as we have been for the whole journey.”

“You’re just going to leave those two men to be taken?”

“What are we supposed to do?” Oracus argued.

“Save them!”

“Didn’t you see the horde of Grevlors and Lisors that were surrounding them?” Oracus pointed out. “What do we do about them?”

“It was hardly a horde,” Kivali said with a roll of her eyes. “And it’s your choice whether we sneak by them while they’re sleeping, or we fight them and kill them all.”

“I can't say I prefer either of those options to be honest,” Oracus answered stubbornly.

“You’re a Rider, Oracus, and so am I,” Kivali said. “It’s our duty to help those men.”

And so it was that Oracus and Kivali followed the Grevlors and Lisors until they set up their camp. Together with Bandor and Quent, they watched from a safe distance while the creatures started a fire in the face of a cave, and then ate a raw rabbit each; meat, fur, bones, and all. In the corner of the cave, the starving prisoners had been tied to the wall.

“They're horrid,” Oracus muttered as he watched a Lisor scratch its bum and then pick its nose with the same finger.

As the Grevlors and Lisors argued over their sleeping arrangements, one of the captives started whimpering and begging for his release. “Please can yer let me go?” he pleaded with a sniff. “I ‘av children at ‘ome.”

“Go and shut him up, Garumph,” a Grevlor snarled at a Lisor.

“Do it yourself!” Garumph droned slowly in return.

“If you don't, I'll tell Gravaz of your disobedience,” the Grevlor threatened.

The mention of Gravaz’s name was enough to convince Garumph, and the Lisor reluctantly stomped over to the mumbling man and hit him hard across the face.

Oracus and Kivali waited until the group had drifted to sleep before they began their rescue mission. Their plan was to sneak into the cave and untie the prisoners without waking their captors, and then leave without them ever knowing of their presence. They approached the cave on tiptoe, and Oracus was so scared he held his breath until they were inside. The cave was dark, but the embers of the fire provided them with just enough light to see. There was an awful smell to the cave too, and Oracus attributed it to the filthy creatures that occupied it.

When they reached the prisoners, Oracus was quick to work on the shackles that bound them. But when the prisoner who had been struck by the Lisor awoke to see them standing over him, he let out a shriek of panic.

Kivali hissed at him to be quiet, but the damage had already been done. All around them, the Grevlors and Lisors were beginning to stir. And when they opened their eyes, they were shocked to see Oracus and Kivali standing in their midst. There was a short moment when everyone stared at one another, and then the aggressive shouting began and the scraping of metal weapons on rock rang off the walls. Within seconds, Oracus and Kivali’s exit had been blocked by Grevlors with sharp daggers and Lisors with heavy wooden clubs.

“Very foolish,” said one of the Grevlors in a creepy tone. He moved closer to them. “If you drop your blades then we may let you live.”

“If you drop your blades then we may let you live,” Kivali responded bravely.

The Grevlor’s sinister scowl eased, and its face lifted into an even more sinister smile. It cackled unpleasantly, and then the cave echoed with the laughter of every Grevlor.

“You will die in pain, Human,” the Grevlor said fiercely. It lifted its weapon to attack, but before it could even take a swing, Kivali had teleported behind the Grevlor and cut off its head with her sword. The other Grevlors and Lisors looked at each other as their friend’s head rolled across the cave floor, and then pandemonium erupted. The screams and curses that came from the creatures was like nothing Oracus had heard before, and he suddenly found himself raising his sword to deflect the strikes from their daggers.

None of the Grevlors seemed to know how to fight, but with so many of them in such a confined space, they were difficult to defend against, and Oracus had no choice but to thrust his sword through a couple of their chests. The bodies fell at his feet, and remorse briefly crossed his mind before more Grevlors attacked him.

It took only a few seconds before Bandor was in the cave too, and then the Grevlors fell at an alarming rate until only the three Lisors were left standing. The fighting ended abruptly, and Oracus, Bandor and Kivali stood side by side, facing the Lisors who were twice their size.

“You should leave now before we decide to kill you,” Kivali urged.

The three Lisors glanced at each other, then at their fallen comrades, before dropping their clubs and fleeing down the mountain path.

Oracus felt pleasure in their victory, but he had received a painful cut on his arm, and he noticed Kivali had blood on her forehead too.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

She wiped the blood away and nodded. “I’m fine. Go and see to the prisoners.”

Oracus had almost forgotten what they entered the cave for in the first place. Behind them, the two prisoners were awake and watching them, and Oracus approached them to untie their bonds. The prisoner who had shouted out and alerted the Grevlors repeatedly muttered his apology from behind a swollen face, while the other wouldn’t stop offering his thanks.

When the men were finally free of their shackles, Oracus led them out of the cave and towards where Kivali and Bandor were helping Quent out the bushes he was hiding in.

“Well that took you long enough!” he said with a frown. “At this rate, we’ll never make it to Tallarin.”

“The coward would have stayed in these bushes even if the Grevlors had killed us,” Oracus said to Bandor, and Bandor privately agreed.

“You’re going to Tallarin?” one of the prisoners asked sheepishly. “We live there. Would you mind if we accompanied you?”

Quent gave them both a derisive look. “So long as you don’t slow us down,” he said.

Now up to six, the group continued their journey south in the dark. The two newcomers were offered food and water, and after they passed a mountain spring where everyone could bathe, they found a cave of their own to camp in for the remainder of the night.

It was to take another two days to reach Tallarin, and Oracus prayed they wouldn’t bump into any more of King Jowra’s servants.