The wolf's head thudded to the ground beside him. The Champion's sword wove a deadly dance between its mates and they too fell dead. He wiped the blade on the wolf's hide then extended a hand to raise his Emperor. But the Emperor was staring into the depths of the cave, transfixed by a pair of startlingly green eyes.

    Sigismund the Grim raised himself to his feet. He was wary and on his guard. The two men stood there waiting, swords in hand.

    Suddenly a figure leapt over the rock at the back of the cave and stood before them. She was strange and fantastical. She appeared to be about fifteen years old. She wore a tunic and trousers that came down to her knees. She was barefooted. Her arms and legs were thin and tanned. Her hair was curly black and her ey...

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