Chapter twoA live enemy armed with a sword remained ahead of me. I did not turn to stare back at the owner of that mocking, laughter-filled, marvelous voice. Generally speaking it is not wise to turn your back on your foe. This fellow, a somewhat larger than smaller specimen of a Varang, with monkey-like features, fringe of hair over his eyes, round cupped ears and a moustache down to the first buckle on his armor, carried a longsword, a clantzer of the pattern favored in north Balintol. Fully expecting him to screech maniacally after the fashion of Varangs, and charge down on me to hack off my head before I was up, I dealt four swift blows at the entangling bandages. He did not charge. His eyes appeared to glitter through the fringe of hair. He swung the sword over his head. But he did