David Gemmell - Dark Moon

'Let him try a shot or two with this,' he suggested.

'You are most kind.'

'It is very pretty,' said Brune. 'How does it work?'

Tarantio touched the top of the crossbow to the ground, placing his foot inside the iron stirrup at the head, then drew back the string. Taking a small black bolt from the bowman he slid it home. 'Aim it towards the target, then squeeze this lever under the stock,' he told Brune. Brune lifted the crossbow and squeezed. The bolt vanished into the sand-sacks some eight feet to the left of the target.

'That was closer,' said Brune. 'Wasn't it?'

The men with the bowman laughed. The bowman himself moved to stand before the sandy-haired Brune, looking closely into his eyes. 'Which is your bad eye?' he asked.

'This one,' said Brune, tapping his right cheek.

'Can you see out of it at all?'

'I can see colours with it, but it doesn't work very well.'

'Have you always had this problem?'

'No. Only since someone hit me with a lump of wood.'

'Your friend is almost blind in the right eye,' he told Tarantio. Take him to Nagellis, in the North Quarter. There is a magicker there named Ardlin, who has a house beside the Three Heads fountain.

You can't miss it - it has a huge stained-glass window showing the naked form of the Goddess Irutha.'

The man smiled. 'It is a fine window. Ardlin is a healer of great talent.'

'Thank you,' said Tarantio. 'You are most kind.'

'Think nothing of it, my friend.' The bowman offered his hand. 'My name is Vint.'

Tarantio looked into the man's smoke-grey eyes. 'And I am Tarantio,' he told him, accepting the handshake.

Vint's face hardened. 'That is a pity,' he said. 'I was rather hoping that when we finally met I would dislike you.'

'There is much to dislike,' said Tarantio. 'You just don't know me well enough yet.'

'Let us hope that is true,' said Vint. 'Where may I call upon you?'

'I have rented a house not far from here. I believe the street is called Nevir North. The house has red tiles and two chimneys. The owners placed a stone wolf to the right of the gate.'

'This afternoon then, an hour before dusk?' offered Vint.

'That is suitable,' agreed Tarantio.

'Sabres?' asked Vint.

'Bring two,' said Tarantio. 'I prefer short swords, but I'll gladly borrow one of yours.'

'No, no. Short swords it is. Would you object if I brought some of my younger students?'

'Not at all.'

'They can carry his body back,' said Dace.

Tarantio turned away. Brune handed back the crossbow and hurried after him. 'What is happening?' he asked.

'Let's find this magicker, Brune,' said Tarantio. 'I can't teach the bow to a half-blind archer.'

'Why is that man going to fight you?'

'It is what he does,' Tarantio told him.

Karis was not easily shocked. Her early life of pain, betrayal and brutality at the hands of her father had birthed in her a cynicism that allowed her to accept the outrageous as if it were commonplace. But when she crested the last rise before the Great Northern Desert, she was stunned. Expecting a vista of bare rock and drifting sand, she was met by a landscape of verdant green dotted with woods and streams.

She knew this area well, having fought two skirmishes here last year. There was no way she could have lost her bearings. To her left, the sun was low in the sky. Ahead, therefore, was north. No question of it.

Guiding the great grey gelding down the slope, she rode to the grasslands and into a grove of trees beside a rippling stream. Dismounting, she loosened Warain's saddle-girth, but did not remove the saddle. Then she let him wander and graze. Warain was well trained, and would come to her fast at a single whistle. Sitting beside the stream, Karis drank deeply, then emptied her water canteen and refilled it.

Perhaps the Eldarin have come back, she thought. What had happened here was the very opposite of the disaster that had struck Eldarin lands during the short-lived war. But the instant the thought came she dismissed it, recalling the words of the Eldarin spirit which had appeared in her room. '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.'

This place does not feel evil, thought Karis. The water is sweet and good, the grass rich and green. What evil, then?

Karis was tired. She had been riding for three days, and had eaten little. Yesterday all she had found was a bush of sweet berries, but these had given her a sour stomach. The day before that she had brought down a pheasant, and cooked it in clay. But there was little meat on the bird.

Allowing Warain to graze for an hour she slept briefly, then summoned the gelding, tightened the saddle and rode back into the dry hills. Ordinarily she would have camped by the stream, but her mind was troubled.

She built a small fire and lay down beside it. It was not cold enough to require a camp-fire, but the flames comforted her, inducing a feeling of safety.

What was the evil the Eldarin had contained?

Karis wished she remembered more of her mother's stories. The flesh-eating tribes of giants had a name, but she could not recall it. She awoke in the night as Warain's front hoof pawed at the ground. Rising, she pulled her bow from the back of the saddle and strung it. 'What is it you hear, grey one?' she whispered, notching an arrow to the bow. In the distance a wolf howled. Warain's head swung towards the sound.

In the bright moonlight Karis scanned the area. There was no sign of movement. 'The wolves will not trouble us, my friend,' she said, moving to the horse and patting its long, sleek neck. Warain nuzzled her shoulder.

'You are the most beautiful male in my life,' she whispered. 'Strong, and true. When we get to Corduin, I'll winter you with Chase. You remember Chase, don't you? The crippled rider.' She scratched the grey's broad brow. 'Now settle down and rest.'

The fire had died and she lay down beside the embers, wrapping her cloak about her.

Just before dawn she woke, and sat up, hungry and irritable. Yesterday she had spotted a deer, but had not killed it. It seemed a great waste of life and beauty to slay such a magnificent beast for the sake of a meal or two. Now she regretted it. Drinking deeply from the canteen, she rose and saddled the gelding. 'If we see a deer today,' she told the horse, 'it dies. I swear my stomach has wrapped itself around my backbone.'

Stepping into the saddle, she rode down once more into the new grassland, heading for Corduin.

The memory of the guard back at the gate was beginning to irritate her. She remembered he was a ten-heartbeat lover - grunt, thrust, sweat and collapse. But where? What had he said - fight like a tiger, live like a whore, look like an angel? He meant it as a compliment, but the word whore did not sit right with Karis.

She used men as she used food: to satisfy a hunger, a need she could not -would not - rationalize. Unlike food, however, the men rarely satisfied her.

Even as the thought came to her she remembered Vint, the pale-eyed swordsman. He knew how to satisfy a woman's hunger. His body was lean and hard, his caresses soft and gentle. And, as an added bonus, there was no emotion in him - no fear of love, or jealousy. She had heard that he became the Duke of Corduin's Champion after Tarantio had refused the post. So far he had killed five men in duels. If he was still in Corduin . ..

The sun was high, the sky cloudless as she rode through the green hills. To her right she saw a red hawk swoop down on a luckless rabbit. Hauling on the reins, she scanned the area for a falconer. Hawks, she knew, preferred feather to fur; they had to be wedded to it. But there was no man in sight. The hawk struck the rabbit, sending it tumbling, then settled down to feed as Karis rode on.