William King - Stealer of Flesh

“I regret I must take my leave of you, Prince,” said Kormak. “And seek a bed for the night.”

“It would do me great honour if you accepted my hospitality, Guardian. You will lose no time or money and more importantly you will not get your throat slit in some low dive. It does happen here.”

“Men have tried to cut my throat before, Prince. I am still here.”

“I have a library containing many volumes that might interest you. I have scrolls concerning the Ghul and their city in which you might find knowledge valuable on your quest. I have maps too. I am quite the collector in my way.”

Kormak glanced at him sidelong. In that moment he was reminded a little of Lord Tomas who had freed Razhak originally. Luther had a similar intensity. Still the things he offered might prove useful. “That would indeed be useful.”

“Then it is settled. You will accompany me to my mansion and you can consult with my library and I will avail myself of the opportunity to pick your brain of knowledge and bore you with displays of my own erudition.”

“Very well, Prince Luther, I accept your offer. For this night alone.”

“Capital.” They rode through the North Gate. It was like riding into a tunnel, dark and shadowy. It was full of men with donkeys and camels and carts all trying to get passed the guards. Prince Luther was obviously recognised for he was waved through as were all those with him.

The streets of the Old City were very different from those of the new. They were laid out in perfectly straight lines and all of the buildings showed a similarity of architecture, a symmetry of proportion, that marked them as having been built at the same time, in a different age of the world.

“Laid out according to the geomantic principles of the ancient Solari,” said Luther, when he noticed Kormak’s glance. “They built this city in the First Age of Men when the power of the Empire was at its height.”

All of the streets led to a gigantic citadel whose single central tower rose like a spear aimed at the sky. At first glance the buildings were as impressive as all the work of the ancients but when he looked closer he could see everything had been repaired in a patchwork fashion, that many of the mansions were crumbling, that smaller buildings and newer had sprung up between the older ones.

“The city was not always in the hands of the Sunlanders,” Luther said. Once again it was as if he was reading Kormak’s thoughts. “There were centuries of neglect while the Seleneans held Sunhaven. They did so until the Oathsworn reclaimed the Tower of the Sun. Some say it is only a matter of time before they do again. Our hold on this land is still quite precarious. Without aid from the West we can hold out for a generation at most.”

“The Kingdoms of the West have their own problems,” Kormak said. “They are not united as they were in the Time of the Oathswearing.”

“The same problem could be said to exist here,” the Prince said. “There are those who think we should come to an accommodation with the moon-worshippers. Others think we should withdraw before we are over-run.”

“What do you think?” Kormak asked.

“I believe it is inevitable that the city will fall back into the hands of the Seleneans. This is an isolated pocket of Solar worship now. We are surrounded on all sides by lands that are either debated or have been swamped by the moondogs.”

They rode into a wide avenue of walled mansions, all with a clear view of the tower. It was clear they had been spotted for servants were already opening the gates of Prince Luther’s mansion while guards watched from the flanking towers. As they rode into the courtyard it occurred to Kormak that every wealthy man’s house in the city must be a small self-contained fortress.

Now he was trapped within one.

A fountain stood in the courtyard. Solar angels held great amphora above their heads and from them poured water. Orange trees stood in small enclosed walled gardens. Servants came forward to take the horses. Kormak allowed his to be led to the stable.

A majordomo advanced on Prince Luther, bowed and presented him with some scrolls. The Prince broke their seals casually and read them as they walked into the cool interior of the building. A halo of servants trailed them as well as the two bodyguards who had disbursed the Prince’s money to the crowd. The rest of them seemed to have taken entry into the house as a signal that they were dismissed. Clearly there was a routine to this place and everyone knew their part in it.

Luther strolled through corridors lined with beautiful statues and entered a low courtyard opened to the sky. There was seating all around it. On a chair at its edge, a woman sat, reading a book.

“Sister,” Luther said. “We have a guest.”

The woman looked up and assessed Kormak with a cool gaze. There was a definite family resemblance to the Prince. They had the same dark curly hair, very white teeth and compelling dark eyes. She was very lovely. She put the book down on the table beside her, after marking her place with a silk ribbon.

She rose and made a courtly curtsey. Kormak responded with a formal bow. She placed her hand over her heart. “Welcome to our home, Guardian of the Dawn.”

“Olivia is the scholar of the family,” Luther said. “She has studied art, philosophy, history and alchemy. She understood the significance of the way you wear your blade as soon as she saw it.”

“You are a long way from Mount Aethelas,” the woman said.

“Sir Kormak is on a quest. He hunts a demon.”

“There are no shortage of those in the Wastes beyond the Holy Road.”

“He hunts one in particular, a Ghul.”

“I thought those were all gone from the world. Imprisoned by Solareon or exterminated by your Order, Sir Guardian.”

“There is one left,” Kormak said. He felt like he was interrupting a conversation between these two. Prince Luther seemed happy to answer any questions his sister addressed to Kormak.

“But not for long if Sir Kormak has his way,” Luther said. The woman sank back into her chair and with a graceful gesture indicated they should join her. She rang a bell, three times, with a particular rhythm. It must have been an accepted signal for in a short time a servant girl arrived with a silver tray containing apple tea for three. It was very sweet. Prince Luther added honey.

“How did you encounter, my brother, Sir Kormak?”

“He was talking to our father,” said Luther before Kormak could reply. Kormak studied the Prince and his sister. He was trying to recall the old hermit’s features. It was possible that there was a family resemblance there.

“I can see you have baffled the Guardian.”

“The hermit is really your father?” Kormak said. “I thought you used the expression merely as a sign of respect.”

“No! Our father has foresworn the world and its guilty pleasures. He has renounced all his estates and worldly goods and mistresses in favour of my sister and myself. He seeks to save his soul and redeem his sins.”

“He has many sins to atone for,” said Olivia. Luther shot her a warning glance. She shook her head almost imperceptibly as if she was telling her brother she would not be silenced.

“Our father was a famously wicked man, Sir Kormak,” she said. “He studied for the priesthood when he was young and then abandoned the path when his elder brother died and he inherited the estate. It is said he broke all of his priestly vows in a single night that they still talk about down in the Street of Seven Pleasures.”

“I have heard of novices who did the same,” Kormak said.

“From your own order?” Luther sounded curious.

“My order does not ask men to foreswear pleasures of the flesh.”