David Gemmell - Waylander III - Hero In The Shadows

'Is that all the servants are saying?' asked Waylander, as they mounted the steps.

'No, sir. They are saying that there are demons abroad in the land. Is it true?'

'Yes,' said Waylander. 'It is true.'

Omri held his hand over his chest, made the Sign of the Protective Horn, and asked no more questions.

'Have you ever met the Duke?' Waylander asked Omri.

'Yes, sir. Three times.'

'Tell me of him.'

'He is a powerful man, both in mind and in body. He is a good ruler, fair and not capricious. He was originally of House Kilraith, but once he became Duke he renounced, as is the custom, all claims to leadership of Kilraith, the title passing to Aric. He is married to a Drenai princess and has several children, but only one son. The marriage is said to be happy.'

'A long time since I heard the words Drenai princess,' said Waylander. 'There are no kings in Drenan now.'

'No, sir, not now,' agreed Omri. 'The Duke's wife, Aldania, was the sister of King Niallad. He was murdered by a foul assassin just before the Vagrian War. After the war, so the story goes, the despot Karnak refused to allow her to come home. He forfeited all her estates and monies and issued a decree of banishment. So she married Elphons and came to Kydor.'

They reached the entrance hall. Beyond the double doors, Waylander could see horses and men waiting in the sunshine. Ordering Omri to organize refreshments for the riders, he walked into the long reception room. Lord Aric was there, wearing breastplate and helm. The black-bearded magicker Eldicar Manushan was standing by the far wall, his blond page beside him. A youth, dressed in dark riding clothes, and wearing a chainmail shoulder guard, was standing close by. His face was familiar, thought Waylander. He felt a small knot of tension form in his belly as he realized why. This was the grandson of Orien, and the nephew of Niallad, the Drenai king. For a moment only, Waylander saw again the tortured features of the dying monarch. Pushing the memory away he focused on the heavy-set man sprawled in the wide leather chair. The Duke was powerfully built, with great breadth of shoulder and massive forearms. He glanced up at Waylander, his cold eyes locking to the Grey Man's dark gaze.

Waylander offered the seated man a bow. 'Good morning, my lord, and welcome to my home.'

The Duke nodded curtly, and beckoned Waylander to the seat opposite.

'The day before yesterday,' said the Duke, 'some forty wagoners and their families were murdered less than two hours' ride from here.'

'I know,' said Waylander. 'I rode over the ground late yesterday.'

'Then you will also know that the killers were . . . shall we say? . . . not of this world?'

Waylander nodded. 'They were demons. There were some thirty of them. They move upright and the distance between the tracks suggests that the smallest is around eight feet tall.'

'It is my intention to find their lair and destroy them,' said the Duke.

'You will not find it, my lord.'

'And why is that?'

'I followed the tracks. The demons appeared in a circle some two hundred paces from the wagons. They disappeared in another circle, taking the bodies with them.'

'Ah,' said Eldicar Manushan, stepping forward, 'a Third Level manifestation, then. A powerful spell must have been cast in that area.'

'You have come across such . . . spells before?' asked the Duke.

'Sadly, yes, sire. They are known as portal-spells.'

'Why Third Level?' asked Waylander.

Eldicar Manushan turned towards him. 'According to the Ancients' texts, there are three levels of gateway magic. The Third Level opens on to the world of Anharat and his demons, but summons only mindless blood-feeders, such as the beast described by our host. The Second Level allows, it is said, the summoning of powerful individual demons, who can be directed against specific enemies.'

'And the First Level?' asked the Duke.

'A First Level spell would summon one of Anharat's companion demons – or even Anharat himself.'

'I understand little of magic and its uses,' snapped the Duke. 'It has always sounded like babble to me. But a Third Level spell is what brought these demons, yes?'

'Yes, sire.'

'And how was this done?'

Eldicar Manushan spread his hands. 'Once again, sire, we have only the words of the Ancients, as stored in sacred text. Many thousands of years ago man and demon coexisted on this world. The demons followed a great sorcerer god called Anharat. There was a war, which Anharat lost. He and all his followers were expelled from the earth, banished to another dimension. This very land, which now prospers under your rule, was instrumental in defeating Anharat. It was then called Kuan-Hador, and its people were versed in great magic. With the banishing of Anharat and his legions Kuan-Hador began an age of great enlightenment. However, Anharat still had followers among the more savage tribes, and these banded together to destroy Kuan-Hador, butchering its people and plunging the world into a new age of darkness and desolation.'

'Yes, yes,' said the Duke, 'I have always liked stories, but I would appreciate it if you would leap across the centuries and tell me about the demons who attacked the wagoners.'

'Of course, sire. My apologies,' said Eldicar Manushan. 'It is my belief that one of the spells used in the original battle against Kuan-Hador has been – somehow – reactivated, opening a Third Level portal. It may be that it was cast again by a sorcerer, or merely recharged by a natural event, lightning, for example, striking an altar stone where the spell was first spoken.'

'Can you reverse this spell?' asked the Duke.

'If we can find the source of it, my lord, I believe that I can.'

The Duke returned his attention to Waylander. 'I am told that a party of your friends was attacked recently by these demons, but that two of the party had magical blades which held the beasts at bay. Is this true?'

'That is my understanding,' said Waylander.

'I would like to see these men.'

'One is severely wounded, my lord,' Waylander told him. 'I will send for the other.' A servant was despatched, and some minutes later Kysumu entered the room. He bowed low to the Duke, and also to Waylander, then stood silently, his face impassive.

'It would be a great help, my lord,' said Eldicar Manu-shan, 'were I able to examine the sword. I could then, perhaps, identify which spells were cast upon the blade.'

'Give him your sword,' ordered the Duke.

'No man touches a Rajnee blade,' said Kysumu softly, 'save the one for whom it was forged.'

'Yes, yes,' said the Duke, 'I am also a great believer in tradition. But these are extraordinary circumstances. Hand it over.'

'I cannot,' said Kysumu.

'This is senseless,' said the Duke, without raising his voice. 'I can call fifty men to this room. Then they will take the sword from you.'

'Many will die,' said Kysumu calmly.

'You threaten me?' said the Duke, leaning forward in his chair.

Waylander rose and moved to stand before Kysumu. 'I have always found,' he said, 'in circumstances like these, that there is a subtle difference between a threat and a promise. I have read of these Rajnee blades. They are linked to the warriors who hold them. When a warrior dies his blade shatters and turns black. Perhaps the same would happen if he allowed Eldicar Manushan to take it from him. If that proves to be the case then we will have lost one of only two weapons proved to be of use against the demons.'

The Duke rose from his chair and stepped close to the small swordsman. 'Do you believe that your blade would become useless if handled by another?'

'It is more than belief,' said Kysumu. 'It is knowledge. I have seen it. Three years ago a Rajnee surrendered to an opponent and offered his sword. The blade splintered as soon as the opponent took hold of the hilt.'