Dark Moon (40 page)

Across the avenue stretcher-bearers, Brune among them, were carrying away the Corduin wounded and dead. Vint moved amongst them, checking the numbers of injured and slain. He crossed to where Karis was standing with Tarantio.

‘Forin lost thirty-nine men: thirty-seven dead, two badly wounded. Just under sixty other men died, or will not fight again. As far as I can tell we killed around two hundred and thirty Daroth.’

Karis nodded, but said nothing. ‘You did it, General,’ said Vint. ‘You turned them back.’

‘We’ve certainly made them think,’ she agreed.

Vint offered Tarantio his sword. The dark-haired warrior grinned. ‘Keep it! But be careful how you sheathe it.’

Vint nodded. ‘If I had known how deadly it was, I’d have thought twice about catching it.’ He glanced up. The sun was still climbing in the sky. ‘Sweet Heaven,’ he said. ‘You would have thought it would be dusk by now, and yet it is not an hour since the charge began.’

Forin joined them. ‘Will someone help me get this damned breastplate off?’ he said. ‘I can’t breathe in it.’ The armour was covered with deep dents, and there was a gash across the back where the metal had split. Once Tarantio and Vint eased the breastplate clear, Forin stripped off his shirt. His upper body was covered in bruises, and there was a shallow cut on his shoulder. ‘I’m not looking forward to going through that again,’ he grumbled, sitting down on a broken wall.

‘You fought well, big man,’ said Vint. ‘I think you killed three of them.’

‘Two. Tarantio took the last. But I marked a few too.’ He looked up at Karis. ‘You think they’ll come back today?’

‘Men wouldn’t,’ she said. ‘The generals would get together and rethink their strategy. They are not men, however.’

‘Do you have another fiendish plan for them?’ asked the giant.

‘No,’ Karis admitted. ‘Send for me if they charge again.’ With that she turned and strode away, the dog Stealer padding alongside her.

‘She’s not much on celebration, is she?’ remarked Ozhobar.

As the day wore on, and the Daroth remained in their camp, an air of jubilation swept through the city. The invincible Daroth had been turned back by the strength and courage of the soldiers, and by the strategic brilliance of Karis. Crowds formed outside the palace, cheering her name.

Inside, Karis lay in a hot bath with Stealer lying at the edge, looking quizzically at his adopted mistress. Her thoughts were many and confused. Far from jubilation, she felt a sense of panic – almost of loss. It had begun when she had seen Necklen hanging from the rooftop; the old man meant more to her than she had realized. Then, when Forin charged in with his men, and she saw them cut down, one after another. With each one that died, a part of herself faded. War and death.

She was suddenly tired of both. And yet this was just the beginning. The Daroth would be wary now; they would circle the city, looking for a weak spot, then launch another attack … and another. Even if Corduin held, what would be gained? There were seven cities of the Daroth, and their power was enormous.

Karis sighed, then ducked her head under the warm water, washing her dark hair. ‘What is it for?’ she asked Stealer. Cocking his head he gazed back at her. ‘Is there a point to it all?’

‘A drowning man doesn’t stop to think about whether the sea has a reason for being,’ said a voice. ‘He just swims and fights for life.’

‘What are you doing here, Forin?’

‘I came to talk, but I’d just as soon have a bath.’ Stripping off his bloodstained clothes, the red-bearded giant moved down the marble steps and sank down into the water. ‘Ah, but that is good.’

‘I don’t want company,’ she said, but there was no force of conviction in her voice.

‘Yes, you do. You’ve lived and breathed the Daroth threat for weeks now – scheming, planning, worrying. And all for this day. Now it is over. And all the tension of those dark days is settling over you like a black mist.’

‘I’m sick of it,’ she said. ‘Sick of seeing death and violence.’

‘You are right to be sick of it, it is a sickening business. As to the point …? Ask the living. There are crowds outside chanting your name … well, not exactly your name. “The Ice Queen”, they are calling you now. They think you are a deliverer sent by the gods. Better than the “Whore of War”, anyway.’

‘I don’t care what they think.’

‘You should; they are what this is all about: the bakers and the carpenters, the dreamers and the poets. But you won’t see that today, will you, Karis?’

‘What is it you want from me?’ she asked, rising from the water and climbing the steps. Servants had left thick towels by the bath side and Karis wrapped one around her torso, using a second to dry her hair. ‘Well?’ she persisted.

‘I don’t know. How did the hot water feel upon your skin?’

‘What has that to do with anything?’

‘It felt good, didn’t it? Cleansing the skin, relaxing the muscles. Had the Daroth broken through, we would have all been dead. No more baths. No more wine. No more loving. They didn’t break through, Karis. You stopped them. And here we are. And life is sweet! Tomorrow …? Well, tomorrow can look after itself. What do I want? Pointless to say that I want you for eternity. We may only have a day. But if we don’t use it then the Daroth might just as well have won.’

She sat down on a bench and smiled. ‘That was a long-winded way of saying you want to take me to bed.’

He grinned at her. ‘What I wanted most was to see you smile.’

She looked into his green eyes and was silent for a moment. ‘Come and join me in a drink,’ she said at last. He rose from the water and she threw him a towel.

Necklen, Vint and the Duke Albreck were waiting in her outer rooms. The Duke stood as she entered, then averted his eyes. ‘My apologies, General,’ he said. ‘We will come back when you are attired for company.’

Karis bowed. ‘With respect, my lord, please be seated. I am too tired to dress, and will soon be asleep. But for the moment I have enough wits about me to conduct a conversation.’

‘As you wish,’ he said, but he was clearly uncomfortable. Seating himself, he was about to speak when Forin walked in naked. Hastily the giant swept a towel around his hips, but as he bowed the towel fell away. Necklen roared with laughter and even the Duke smiled. Then Albreck turned to Karis. ‘Firstly, let me congratulate you on today’s victory. The people seem to believe it was a miracle. For myself I know it to be the result of careful planning and meticulous strategy. I am proud of you, Karis. Whatever happens from now on, nothing will change that.’

Karis reddened, seeming at a loss for words. The Duke rose and bowed to her, then swung to Forin. ‘You lost a lot of men today, Captain. But you fought like a lion. Should Corduin survive this war, then there will be a place for you in my personal guard.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I’ll enjoy that.’

The Duke moved to the door. ‘When you have rested, Karis, please come to my rooms. I would like to discuss tomorrow’s plan of defence.’ He paused before the door, which Necklen opened for him. Karis lay back on the couch, fatigue making her head swim.

‘We’ll let you get some rest, princess,’ said Necklen, tapping Vint on the shoulder. Vint did not move; his face ashen, he was staring at Forin with undisguised hatred. Necklen leaned in to him. ‘Time to go, my friend,’ he whispered. Vint took a deep breath, pushed himself to his feet and stalked from the room. Necklen followed him.

‘I think I’ve made an enemy of Vint,’ said Forin. There was no reply from Karis, and the giant, moving alongside her, saw that she was asleep. Gently he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Pulling the sheets and blankets over her he kissed her brow, then dressed and wandered out of the palace.

Necklen caught Vint just as the swordsman was passing the side gates of the palace. ‘Join me for a jug?’ asked the older man.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘It’s what she is, Vint,’ said Necklen. ‘I love her like a daughter, but she’s wilful.’

With great effort Vint held back the angry retort that swelled in his throat. Necklen was a good man, tough and loyal, and he meant well. The truth was simple: a man rarely understands the value of what he has – until he loses it. ‘You mustn’t blame Forin,’ said Necklen.

‘Blame? I don’t blame anyone. I am angry, but that will pass. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll return to the wall.’

Vint strode off. Everywhere there were crowds on the streets, laughing, singing, drinking. He moved through them like a wraith, oblivious to their joy. The black-clad figure of Tarantio was sitting on the battlements, staring out over the walls.

‘Anything happening?’ asked Vint.

‘No. A whole group of them, maybe two hundred, have been sitting in a circle for the last couple of hours. Where’s Karis?’

‘Resting, apparently.’ Tarantio caught the edge in Vint’s tone and said nothing. ‘Where next, do you think?’ asked Vint. ‘The east gate?’

‘I have no idea. They are shocked, that’s for sure.’

Vint glanced back to where the Daroth bodies had been dragged earlier. All that remained was what appeared to be a huge pile of white sacks and oddments of armour and weapons. ‘What happened to the Daroth dead?’ he asked.

‘That’s them,’ said Tarantio. ‘The bodies just shrivelled away. The stench was dreadful for a while. I saw a snake shed its skin one time; it was something like that.’

‘It was the same at the miracle forest,’ Vint told him. ‘They really decompose fast, don’t they?’

‘If that is what is happening,’ said Tarantio. ‘That farmer who was taken by them … Barin. He said they were immortal – reborn every ten years. Maybe there’s a new body for them back in their city.’

‘What a loathsome thought.’

The bearded soldier who had spoken to Vint just before the attack walked up the rampart steps. He was weaving slightly, and holding a jug in his hands. ‘What a day!’ he said, slumping down beside the two men. ‘What an incredible day! Did you know the whores are not accepting money today? Everything’s free: women, drink, food. What a day!’ The man lay down on the stone and, using the empty jug for a pillow, fell asleep.

‘Let’s hope he has the same sentiments tomorrow,’ said Tarantio. ‘People are treating this as a great victory, when in fact it is only the starting skirmish.’

Brune ran up the steps, tripped at the top, recovered his balance and then moved alongside Tarantio, handing him a package wrapped in muslin. Tarantio opened it to find fresh bread, salted beef and a pottery jar containing butter. ‘It’s amazing back there,’ said Brune. ‘Everyone’s so happy. A woman kissed me!’

‘She must have been drunk,’ teased Tarantio.

‘Yes, she was,’ admitted Brune. ‘It was still nice, though.’

‘How is the eye?’ asked Vint.

The sandy-haired youngster gave a shrug. ‘It’s not as good as it was when it went gold. But it’s all right.’

‘You can shoot straight now?’

‘I don’t know. Haven’t tried.’

‘Brune has decided that war is evil, and he will have no part in killing,’ put in Tarantio. ‘Isn’t that right, Brune?’

‘Yes. I don’t want to kill nobody.’

‘Putting aside the double negative for a moment,’ said Vint, ‘I think that is a laudable point of view. But what do you do when a Daroth warrior is about to behead you with a large sword? Do you just die – or do you fight?’

‘I’ll die, I reckon,’ said Brune.

‘Could you offer some validation for this philosophy?’

‘What did he say?’ Brune asked Tarantio.

‘I think he wants to know why you have decided not to fight.’

‘Oh. It was the Oltor. I can’t explain it, but when he was … you know, part of me, I could feel what he was thinking. What he was feeling. And it was good, you know? It was …’ he paused ‘… right. Yes, that’s it. It was right. You understand?’

‘Not a word,’ admitted Vint. ‘You think it would be better to be dead than to fight for your life?’

‘Yes, I think so. That’s what the Oltor done.’

‘And they were wiped out.’

‘Yes, but they’re back now.’

‘What is he talking about?’ Vint asked Tarantio.

‘It is a long story.’

Vint was about to question him further when movement began in the Daroth camp. Hundreds of Daroth warriors moved to the lower hillside and began to dig while others could be seen returning from the woods carrying the trunks of felled trees. Within minutes the area was the scene of frenzied activity. The diggers soon disappeared from sight, but the watching men could see earth being thrown up from the pit. The Daroth brought up empty wagons, which they filled with earth; these were then trundled away, returning empty minutes later. Ropes and pulleys were assembled above the pit, drawing up dirt, while planks and timbers were lowered down.

Realization dawned on Vint and he felt a chilling fear spread through him. ‘They’re building a tunnel,’ he said. ‘They are going to burrow underneath us!’

The house was cold and Tarantio lit a fire. Brune was staying in the new barracks building with the other stretcher-bearers, and the house seemed lonely without him. ‘
I miss him too
,’ said Dace. Tarantio smiled. ‘
You remember that first day? “He hit me with a lump of wood”
,’ he mimicked.

‘
He is a good man. I hope he survives
.’

Tarantio sat before the fire, enjoying the new warmth. ‘
We don’t make many friends, do we, Dace? Why is that?
’

‘
We don’t need them, brother
.’

‘
So why Brune? Why do we miss him?
’ Dace remained silent and Tarantio wandered out to the kitchen. There was a stale loaf there and he cut several slices from it, bringing them back to the fire and toasting them. He ate only one, then lay down on the goatskin rug, weariness washing over him. The Daroth were still digging, the mouth of the tunnel illuminated by lanterns. Soon they would erupt out of the ground somewhere within the city.

‘
We won’t die, brother
,’ said Dace. ‘
I’ll kill them all
.’

‘
I’ve always loved your sense of humour
.’

‘
Don’t go to sleep yet. I feel the need to talk awhile
.’ Dace sat up and added a log to the fire. ‘Chio? Chio!’ he said, aloud. He swore softly, and tried to summon Tarantio. He could now feel the weakness in their body, the muscle fatigue and the bone-numbing weariness. It was not a sensation Dace enjoyed. Pushing himself to his feet he walked to the kitchen and drank several cups of cold water, then scraped the last of some honey from a pottery jar. It was sweet and good.