Dark Moon (11 page)

Does anything matter to you? she asked herself. Or does life have nothing more to offer than a stunning victory in battle or a sweaty rut with a powerful man?

‘Both are one and the same thing,’ she said aloud. The ceiling shifted and swam. At first she thought it was another tremor, but then, as her stomach lurched, she realized it was the effect of the wine. Rolling to her knees, she forced herself upright. Taking a deep drink from a pitcher of water, she moved to the bed and sat down. As always her powerful constitution began to override the alcohol in her system.

Weariness flowed over her, and she wished now that she had not sent Giriak away. It would have been pleasant to lie close, feeling the warmth of his body as she drifted into sleep.

The bedroom door opened and she felt the touch of a cool breeze. Opening her eyes, she sat up. But it was not Giriak who entered.

Sirano stood in the doorway, and Karis was surprised by the change in the man. His handsome face was thin and drawn, his cheeks covered by black stubble, his eyes dark-rimmed and weary. His clothes, so beautifully fashioned from black silk, were sweat-stained and creased, and his black hair was lank and dark with sweat. Moving to the bedside, he gave a tired smile.

‘You are beautiful naked, Karis,’ he said. The words were forced, no more than echoes of what would only a few days before have been genuine emotion.

‘You look dreadful,’ she told him. ‘How long since you slept?’

‘Days. I swear I am close though. The Pearl’s defences are thin. If I had the energy, I would have stayed for the breakthrough tonight. The Spell of Seven almost made it. It could not save all the victims. That’s when I knew.’

‘How many did you kill, Saro?’

‘Kill? Oh, the girls … two. Five survived. But I am almost there, Karis.’

‘You will ruin your city and destroy yourself in the process. Do you know the quakes are spreading further? A rider came in today. He said Corduin was struck three times in the last month. Is this your doing?’

He nodded. ‘Do not concern yourself. With the power of the Pearl, I can rebuild and Morgallis will be a hundred times more beautiful than before. And we will have eternity to make it even better. Immortality lies within that sphere.’

‘We?’ she countered.

‘Why not, Karis? You and I. Young for ever.’

‘Perhaps I do not want to be young for ever,’ she told him.

‘You say that only because you have not yet felt the winter fingers of the grave upon your skin.’ His eyes were bright and feverish. Karis rose from the bed and filled a goblet with water, which she offered to him. ‘Wine,’ he said. ‘Give me wine.’

Hurling the water to the floor, she poured the last of the wine into the goblet. He took it from her with a trembling hand and drank deeply. ‘I am so tired.’

‘Then go to your room and sleep.’

For a moment he was silent, his expression thoughtful. ‘I am not a vain man,’ he said at last. ‘I know that you find me attractive. And I truly believe you are the most divine of women. Why then do we never sleep together?’

‘This is not the time to talk of it, Saro,’ she told him.

He smiled. ‘I know the answer – but I wanted to hear you say it. You are a mercenary. When your contract is finished, you move to the highest bidder. It would complicate matters if you were emotionally involved with one of the four Dukes. Not so?’

‘Exactly so,’ she agreed. ‘Knowing this, why do you persist?’

‘I yearn for the unattainable,’ he said. His expression softened. ‘Do you trust my word, Karis?’

‘I have no reason to doubt it.’

‘Then grant me permission to stay until dawn. I have the need to feel the warmth of human skin against my own. I shall not make any attempt to seduce you – that I swear.’

‘What of your mistress? Is her skin not soft and warm?’

‘May I stay?’ he said.

She looked at him, then sighed. ‘You may stay – until dawn.’

Sirano rose and slowly stripped away his clothes before stumbling to the bed. When Karis pulled back the coverlet and slipped in beside him his body was cold to the touch. Putting her arms around him, she drew him close.

‘She is dead, Karis,’ he whispered. ‘Her body is no longer soft and warm.’

‘You sacrificed her?’

‘With my own hand.’

Karis did not speak. His breathing deepened and soon he was asleep in her arms. But no sleep came to Karis. The girl had been no more than eighteen, and was besotted with Sirano, her doe-eyes never leaving his face. She lived to please him. Now she had died to please him.

Karis lay still for some time, then eased herself away from the sleeping man. Rising silently, she moved to where her clothes lay discarded on the floor. Slipping her dagger from its sheath, she returned to the bed. One thrust was all it would take.

In the lantern light his face looked very young, boyish and innocent. You are not innocent, she thought. You are a killer, succumbing to evil.

A brilliant light shone down upon the bed, illuminating his face, and Karis swung round. The western wall was glowing bright, as if lit from within. A tall figure emerged from it; his face was slender, and framed with white fur save around the eyes and nose. Karis flipped the dagger, then hurled it. It sailed through the figure and clattered against the far wall.

‘
You have nothing to fear, child
,’ whispered a voice inside her head.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, aloud. Beside her Sirano stirred and woke.

‘I am Ranaloth,’ said the apparition.

‘The spirit of the Pearl,’ said Sirano. ‘Are you ready to give me what I want?’

‘I cannot. Nor should you make any more attempts to steal it.’

‘I will beat you, Eldarin. Just as I destroyed your people. You cannot stop me.’

‘You are not quite correct. I could stop you. I could kill you, child. Instead I appeal to you, Sirano, not to continue. The Pearl is more important than your ambition. And should you succeed, you will unleash a terror you cannot control.’

‘Empty words,’ sneered Sirano.

‘The Eldarin do not lie, Duke of Romark; we put that behind us a thousand years ago. You see the Pearl as a weapon, as an aid to your dreams of conquest and immortality. But it is not a weapon. And it will not, even if pierced, give you what you desire.’

‘Do not seek to fool me, old man,’ said Sirano. ‘I am a Master of Spells. I can feel the power within the Pearl, and soon I will draw it to me.’

The figure stood silently for a moment, then Ranaloth spoke again. ‘A long time ago the Eldarin faced another evil,’ he said. ‘We contained it, removed it from the world. The Pearl holds that evil at bay. Do not …’ Suddenly the light around the apparition flickered and the old man staggered. ‘Your sorcerers continue to attack us,’ he said. His shoulders slumped, and he spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘Now,’ he said, an infinite sadness in his voice, ‘it is too late.’ Turning to Karis, he told her, ‘Leave this city and take to the high places. Your world is finished. Desolation and horror await you.’

The light dimmed and the figure disappeared. The two humans sat in silence for several moments, then Karis rose from the bed. ‘What have you done, Saro? What has your evil brought us to?’

‘Evil?’ he sneered. ‘What is evil? All men of power are called evil by their enemies. It means nothing, it is just a word.’

‘The Eldarin said our world is finished. He promised desolation and horror.’

‘He lied!’

‘Why would he lie? What would be his purpose?’ Karis shook her head. ‘No, Sirano, his words rang with the truth. You destroyed the Eldarin. You plunged the world into war. And now you have unleashed an evil force that might destroy us all.’

‘What evil force? I tell you he lied, and I’ll tell you why. It was because he knew I had him! And I will have his power!’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Karis. ‘And you no longer have me.’

‘We have a contract!’

‘The unearned monies will be returned to you. My men and I will leave with the dawn.’

‘As you will,’ he said. ‘Perhaps when you come back to me on bended knee I will forgive you, Karis.’

She laughed at him. ‘You will need to be immortal, Saro, to live long enough to see that day. Now be so kind as to leave me in peace. I need some sleep.’

The door closed behind Sirano and Karis stood silently, listening as the sound of his footsteps receded. Once sure he was not coming back, she moved swiftly to the large wardrobe and took from it her riding clothes: breeches of brown oiled leather and a shirt of thick, cream-coloured wool, knee-length boots with a two-inch heel, and a sleeveless leather jerkin, the shoulders and upper back reinforced by a delicately wrought cape and hood of tiny mail rings. Moving to the mirror by the bedside she brushed back her shoulder-length black hair, drawing it tightly into a ponytail which she tied at the nape of her neck. Without the softening effect of her hair hanging loose Karis looked older, and she stared hard at her reflection. The dark eyes had seen too much pain, and it showed in the guarded gaze. Leaning forward, she lifted her hand to her temple. A single grey hair shone there. Angrily she plucked it out. Twenty-eight is not
so
old, she reminded herself.

‘Move yourself,’ she said, aloud. ‘You don’t have time to stare into mirrors.’

Once the shock of her defection had worn off, Sirano would take steps to stop her. Of all the mercenary leaders Karis was, quite simply, the best. She knew it. He knew it. He would not allow her to join one of his enemies, and Karis had no wish to be strapped to an altar and sacrificed to the Pearl.

Looping her sword-belt around her slender waist and twirling her sheepskin riding cloak about her shoulders, she took a last look around the room. The dagger she had hurled at the Eldarin ghost lay against the far wall. She sheathed it in the hidden scabbard of her right boot. Lastly she opened the small chest by the far wall and took from it a heavy pouch containing forty gold pieces, which she thrust deep into a hidden pocket inside her jerkin. Gathering her hunting-bow and quiver, she walked from the room, moving silently along the corridor and down the winding stairs to the courtyard door.

At the stables she bridled and saddled Warain, the strongest and fastest of her geldings. It irked her to leave behind the other two, but they were stabled at the barracks and fetching them would add an hour she could not afford. Warain’s great grey head nuzzled her, and she rubbed his broad brow with her knuckles and then led him from the stall.

A bleary-eyed stableboy rose from his bed of straw. ‘Can I help you, sir?’ he asked.

Karis loomed over the child, then took his chin in her hand. ‘Do I look like a man to you, boy?’ she asked him.

He blinked nervously. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I was half asleep.’

Karis shook her head, annoyed at the irritation she felt. The boy was probably not yet past puberty, but even so … ‘Go and fill me a small sack of grain,’ she ordered him. He ran off to the far end of the stable, returning with the feed-sack moments later. Looping it over the high pommel of the saddle, Karis ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Do not mind me, child. It has been a long and exhausting day.’

‘I saw only the boots and the sword, ma’am. You are very beautiful,’ he said gallantly.

‘Tell me that in ten years, and I’ll promise you a night to remember!’ Karis swung into the saddle as the boy opened the stable door. She ducked down into Warain’s neck and steered the gelding through the open doorway. Warain was over sixteen hands tall and the lintel stone above the door brushed her shoulders.

Sitting up, she heeled Warain forward and rode slowly down Long Avenue towards the Western Gate. She had left behind all of her clothes, and various gifts and souvenirs that others would have considered of sentimental value. But Karis was not a sentimental woman. She had only one regret – not being able to say goodbye to the veteran warrior, Necklen. The old man had become a friend – and friendship with a man was rare for Karis. He loved her like a man should love a daughter. Anger flared as old memories burst to life. If she had known a father like Necklen, maybe now she would be happy.

Tugging on the reins, she halted Warain. There was still time to find Necklen and urge him to ride with her. He would come willingly. Karis was torn. His company always lifted her spirits, but the perils would be great and she had no wish to lead the old man to his death. ‘I will send for you,’ she whispered, ‘when I have a new command.’

The streets were deserted as she rode, but everywhere there were signs of Sirano’s obsessive desire to open the secrets of the Pearl. Huge cracks showed on the sides of buildings and several walls had fallen. The road ahead was buckled, sharp paving stones twisted up from the surface like broken teeth. She could see the main gates now, and the two sentries standing below the tall arch. She had timed her departure well, and the dawn light was just creeping above the eastern mountains. No-one was allowed out of Morgallis at night without a pass.

‘Good morning,’ she said, as she drew abreast of the men.

‘Good day to you, Karis,’ said the first guard amiably. He gave her a wide smile. His face was familiar, and she struggled for a link. The name came first.

‘You are looking well, Gorl. Perhaps too well,’ she added, pointing at the man’s paunch. ‘How long since you marched on a campaign?’

‘Almost a year – and I don’t miss it. Got me a wife now, and two nippers.’

‘A wife? And you swore no one woman could satisfy you.’

He shook his head, and grinned. ‘That was afore I knew you, lady. You taught me different.’ Then she remembered: Gorl had been one of her many lovers. Was it on the Mountain Campaign, she wondered? No, that was the slim bowman who had died near Loretheli. ‘Where are you riding to, this chilly morning?’ asked Gorl, the question cutting through her thoughts.

‘I quit Sirano’s service last night. I think I’ll ride for the sea. Rest up with a few sailors.’

Gorl chuckled. ‘By the Gods, you’re a wonder, Karis! Live like a whore, fight like a tiger, look like an angel. It was two years before I got you out of my blood. Or thought I had.’

‘I think of you fondly too,’ she said. ‘Now open the gate.’