David Gemmell - Dark Moon

Calmly she stepped forward, laying her hand on the shoulder of the councillor and drawing him back.

'We did not come here to kill Daroth,' she said coolly. 'But if necessary we will do this. How does one challenge your captain?'

'You already have,' said the Duke. 'He says he will fight the largest of you - the red-bearded one.'

'I choose who fights,' said Karis, 'and I will not use my strongest warrior. It would be beneath him to fight a single Daroth. Before this duel takes place, however, Lord Duke, what are the rules? When my chosen fighter has killed your captain, do we then have possession of the man Barin?'

'If you kill my captain you own all his possessions, for he is pod-lost and cannot live again.'

'And we will be allowed to leave the city?'

'Why would we keep you here? We know all we need to know of your puny race. Your young ones are sweet and tender, your old ones stringy. Who will you choose to fight for the human?'

'Where is the captain?' she demanded.

A Daroth rose from beside the Duke and Karis looked hard at him. The warrior was huge, barrel-chested and powerful. She swung to Tarantio and he nodded acceptance. 'I think your captain looks old and fat,' she said. 'I will therefore use my smallest warrior.'

'When he dies,' said the captain, 'you will become mine. I will feast on you tonight, female. I will swallow your eyes whole.'

Karis ignored him and walked back to Tarantio. 'Can you take him?' she asked, her voice just a whisper.

'I can take anything that lives,' Dace told her. Drawing his short swords, he stepped out to meet the captain. The Daroth was carrying a long, serrated broadsword. As Dace took up his fighting stance he felt a hot stab of pain in his mind, like a flame searing up from his neck and into his cranium. He staggered back.

'They are telepaths,' came the voice of Tarantio. 'Fight through the pain. I will try to block the fire.'

Dace's anger swelled. Huge as the Daroth was, still he felt he needed the advantage of magic. You may be big, thought Dace, but you are a coward! The pain flared once more.

'He is in here with us,' whispered Tarantio. 'He can hear us.'

'I think I'll kill him now,' said Dace. He darted forward, ducking under a ferocious cut to slam his sword-blade into the Daroth's belly. The blade did not penetrate more than half an inch. Dace leapt back, swaying away from a slashing blow that would have opened him from shoulder to belly.

'The armpit,' said Tarantio. 'Remember the tomb. They have no bone protection there.'

The Daroth backed away, his elbows dropping protectively to his sides. 'Yes, I had remembered, brother,' snapped Dace. 'So good of you to remind our opponent.' The Daroth, now holding his blade double-handed, ran forward and sent a wicked sweeping cut which Dace parried. Such was the power of the blow that the smaller warrior was sent hurtling to the floor. As Dace rolled to his knees, the Daroth leapt towards him with sword raised. Dace switched his grip on his right-hand sword, holding it now like a dagger. He waited until the last moment, then surged upright, dancing aside as the serrated sword came down. As his sword slammed into the Daroth's armpit, plunging through muscle and tissue, a hideous croaking scream came from the captain, who stumbled and fell to his knees. Dace plunged his second sword into the Daroth's body, alongside the first blade, then levered it up and down. Milk-coloured liquid sprayed from the wound, drenching Dace. Dragging his swords clear he threw himself upon the dying Daroth's back and smashed again and again at the nape of the giant neck and the raised vertebrae showing there. The white skin peeled away, exposing bone. One of the vertebrae cracked, a second suddenly dislodging. The Daroth's head fell sideways. Dace delivered a tremendous blow to the neck, which snapped with a sound that echoed around the hall. The Daroth captain pitched forward from his knees, his face striking the stone floor. The fiery pain in his mind faded away, but still Dace continued to hack at the neck, his blows frenzied and powerful. The head rolled clear.

'That is enough,' he heard Karis say. Dace blinked. He had an urge to rip out the Daroth's dark eyes and swallow them whole. Tarantio surged back into control.

Karis walked to the sickle table and stood silently for a moment. 'As I thought, old and fat,' she said. 'I would like the man, Barin, brought out now. I will trade the rest of his possessions for the prisoners you hold. Added to this - upon my return to Corduin - I will also arrange a wagon of salt to be brought to the edge of your lands.'

'I accept your trade, female,' said the Duke. 'You have entertained us well today. Come the spring - when the

Daroth army descends upon your city - you will entertain us more.'

'We will surprise you, my lord, I think.'

'I do not believe so. The human who fought for you is unique. You do not have enough like him to trouble us.'

Karis smiled. 'That remains to be seen. I look forward to your visit.'

There were 107 captives, all of them past middle age, and several white-haired elders. They were herded out to the open ground before the dome, where Karis greeted them. The last to arrive was Goran's father, a burly man with dark curly hair and beard. Goran ran to him, and hugged him. Barin ruffled his son's hair, then looked up at Karis. 'We must leave quickly,' he said, his voice low. 'There is no honour among these monsters. And their word is not iron.'

Karis nodded, and led the refugees back along the main street of the city of domes. Daroth came from every doorway to stare at them as they made their way towards the grasslands. Karis noticed that all the Daroth eyes were fixed upon the lean figure of Tarantio. He had killed one of them in single combat, and all had felt the blows of his swords.

They reached the outskirts of the city without incident and headed south. 'You must beware of warmth and pain in your mind,' said Barin. 'This will indicate they are reading your thoughts.'

Karis passed the warning back to the others. 'What do you think they will do?' she asked the man.

'The blood relatives of the Daroth cut down by your swordsman will follow you. They will try to take you alive, and keep you until the entombing. Then you will

be fed to the wife of the Daroth your man fought - save for your heart, which will be placed in the coffin with the body of her husband.'

'What did the Duke mean about pod-lost?' asked Karis.

'The Daroth are virtually immortal. They exist in a single body for no more than ten years. Then, when the pods are ripe and a new form emerges, the old body is shed. Your man ended the life of the Daroth captain.

Under normal circumstances he would have been born again, but his pod was either flawed in some way, or diseased. Whatever the answer, his immortality ended in that hall. Now his relatives will seek to avenge his passing.'

'But why me?' she asked. 'Why not Tarantio who actually killed him?'

'You are the leader. It was you who instigated the duel.'

'What do you suggest?'

'Head for high ground where the air is thin and cold. It affects the Daroth far more than us; they are heavy, and they do not like the cold.'

'You know of such a place?'

'There is a pass through the mountains - some twelve miles east of here. It is very high.'

Once out of sight of the city, Karis led the column down into a deep gully, then changed the direction of travel from south to east. Vint rode alongside her. 'Where are we going?' he asked.

Karis told him of Barin's warning. 'If they do come after us, I do not see how we can fight,' said Vint.

'There is always a way to fight,' snapped Karis. 'My father had a pet python; he used to feed it with live mice. The python was around six feet in length. He made me watch the snake feed. It was . . . nauseating.'