David Gemmell - Dark Moon

'You are among the top fifty lovers I have known.'

His laughter pealed out. 'Ah, but I have missed you, lady. You help to remind me that I am - despite my talents - merely mortal. But you do not fool me. I am in the top ten.'

'Arrogant man,' she said, allowing him to move closer to her.

'Arrogance is one of my many virtues. Will you allow me to accompany you on your mission?'

'Yes. I would have requested you.'

'How pleasing.' Leaning in, he kissed her lips, gently at first and then with increasing ardour. His hand caressed her breast, then his arm circled her waist, lifting her on to him. They made love slowly, and Karis allowed her mind to relax. He was right; he was high on the list of good lovers. But, as enjoyable as it was, there was no time to fully appreciate his skills. Karis increased the rhythm, then began to moan, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Vint's hands gripped her hips, and he too began to move with greater urgency. He sighed as he climaxed. Satisfied that she had fooled him, Karis kissed his cheek, then moved away.

'I needed that,' he said, with a smile. 'I was prepared for a duel, and the blood was up. Sex is certainly a fine substitute for fighting. Not perfect, mind, but close.'

'Who was the lucky opponent?'

'A man named Tarantio. Said to be something of a swordsman.'

Karis laughed aloud. 'Ah my dear, dear Vint. You are the lucky man. Tarantio would have cut your ears off.'

His face hardened, and no sign of humour remained. 'Don't mock me, darling. There is not a man alive to best me with any kind of blade.'

'Trust me, Vint,' she said, her face serious. 'I have seen you both fight and there is in you a quality of greatness with the blade. But Tarantio . .. ? He is inhuman. You were not here when he fought Carlyn; it was awesome.'

'I remember the story,' said Vint. 'Carlyn killed the legendary Sigellus and was challenged by one of his pupils. It was said to have been some fight.'

'It wasn't a fight, Vint, not even close. Tarantio cut him to pieces; he sliced off both the man's ears, cut his nose, then criss-crossed his face with deep cuts. Each one could have been a death stroke, but Tarantio was playing with him. And Carlyn was almost as good as you, my dear.'

'I think you underestimate me, Karis. I am not without a few tricks of my own.'

'I wouldn't want you to be killed. Where would I go for good love-making?'

'I take it Tarantio is also among the top ten of your lovers?'

Karis forced a laugh. 'You will never know. Now tell me where I can find him.'

'You will invite him on to our quest?'

'Yes. And pay him anything for the privilege.'

Vint rose from the bath. Robes had been left draped across a bench seat. Donning one, he passed the other to Karis. 'Are you doing this to stop me from carrying out my duel?'

'Not at all,' she assured him. 'I do not interfere in the lives of my men. If you wish to die young, then make good on your challenge - but not until we return.'

Vint smiled. 'Who could deny you anything, Karis?'

There was a discreet tap at the door. When Karis opened it, the dark-haired boy Goran stood outside. Karis ushered him in and he stood on the threshold looking nervous and ill at ease. 'What did you want?' she asked him.

'Can I come with you tomorrow?'

'I do not think that would be wise, boy. Our chances of returning alive are not great.'

'They took my father. I ... I need to find out whether he lives.'

'You were close?' she asked.

'He is the finest man who ever walked,' said Goran, his voice thickening and tears forming in his eyes.

'Please let me come.'

'Oh, let him come, Karis,' said Vint. 'The boy has spirit, and wouldn't you want to look for your own father?'

Karis's eyes were cold as she turned to Vint. 'If it was my father,' she said, 'I'd help the Daroth skin him!'

Brune sat quietly in the garden behind the house, watching a line of ants moving up a rose-bush. They filed slowly up the stem of a late-flowering bud, then down again. Brune focused on the bud, which was covered with greenfly. The ants were moving up, one at a time, behind the greenfly, and appeared to be stroking the aphids. This puzzled Brune: it was as if the tiny black insects were paying homage to their larger green cousins. But that was ridiculous. Narrowing his eyes, Brune looked closer. Then he smiled. The ants were feeding. Stroking the greenfly caused the aphids to produce a viscous discharge. Brune clapped his hands and laughed aloud. 'What is so amusing?' asked Tarantio, stepping out into the sunshine. He was carrying a black crossbow with a slim stock and wings of iron, and a quiver of stiffened leather containing twenty short black quarrels.

'The ants are milking the greenfly,' Brune told him. 'I didn't know they did that.'

'What are you talking about?' Tarantio laid bow and quiver on the stone table beside the bench on which Brune was sitting.

'The rose-bush. Look at the ants.'

Tarantio walked the length of the garden, some sixty paces, and knelt down by the bush for a few moments.

Then he returned to the seated Brune. 'I see they are swarming near the greenfly, but what makes you believe they are milking them?' he asked.

'You can see it. Look, there's one feeding now; he's filling his food sac.'

'Are you mocking me, Brune? I can hardly see the bud from here.'

'It's my new eye,' said Brune proudly. 'I can see all sorts of things with it, if I try hard. I was watching the ants earlier. They swap food. Did you know that? They rear up in front of each other, then one vomits . . .'

'I am sure it is fascinating,' said the swordsman swiftly. 'However, we have work to do. I have purchased this crossbow and I'd like to see how your new eye affects your aim.'

Tarantio showed Brune how to cock the weapon, then bade him shoot at the trunk of a thick oak some twenty paces away.

'Which part of the trunk?' asked Brune. Tarantio laughed and moved to the tree, scanning the bark. There was a small knot no more than an inch in diameter. Tarantio touched it with his index finger.

'Just here,' he said. As he spoke, Brune hefted the

weapon. 'Wait!' cried Tarantio. The black bolt slammed into the knot, barely inches from Tarantio's outstretched hand. Furious, he stormed back to where Brune stood. 'You idiot! You could have killed me.'

'I hit the knot,' said Brune gleefully.

'But the bolt might have ricocheted. It happens, Brune.'

'I'm sorry. It was just so easy. Don't be angry.'

Tarantio took a deep breath, then sighed. 'Well,' he said at last, 'we know the gold was well spent. The magicker did a fine job. Perhaps a little too fine.' Leaning in close to Brune he stared into the young man's eyes.

'What are you looking at?' asked Brune nervously.

'Your left eye. I could have sworn it was blue.'

'It is blue,' said Brune.

'Not any more. It is a kind of golden brown. Ah well, maybe it is just part of the magic from the golden orb.'

'He wasn't supposed to change the colour,' objected Brune, worried now. 'He wasn't, was he?'

'I don't suppose that it matters,' replied Tarantio, with a smile. 'Not if you can see ants feeding. Anyway, it is a good colour. And it better matches the gold of your right eye.'

'You think so?'

'Yes.'

They heard the sound of horses on the road outside. Tarantio's face hardened as Vint came riding to the gate. The Corduin swordsman gave a broad smile and waved as he dismounted. He opened the gate wide, and a second rider came through. Tarantio watched as Karis dismounted, tethering her grey to the gatepost.

'Good to see you again, Chio,' she said.

'And you, Karis. Come to see him die?' he asked.

'Not today. What brings you to Corduin?'

'I grew tired of war,' he told her. 'Added to which I was