David Gemmell - Dark Moon

'You are quite correct, sir.'

'Take the coins in your hand. Feel the weight and the warmth. Gold has a special feel, Niro.'

The cleric's thin hand gathered the coins. 'So it does. So it does.'

'My convoy will be here by midnight. There will be no need to register its arrival.'

The man rose and swirled his cloak around his broad shoulders. 'Might I know your name, sir?' asked Niro.

'I am Lunder. Serve me well, Niro, and you will enjoy great fortune.'

'I thank you, sir. And you have saved me a journey.' Niro opened the desk drawer and produced a folded sheet of paper bearing the Duke's seal in red wax. 'I was asked to deliver this to you this morning.'

'What is it?' asked the merchant.

'I have no idea, sir. I am not privy to the Duke's thoughts.' Lunder took the paper and broke the seal. Then he smiled.

'I am invited to dine at the palace this evening,' he said.

'Congratulations, sir. I am informed that the Duke's chef is exceptional.'

The Duke's carriage - handsomely crafted from mahogany, and fitted with seats of luxurious padded leather - was drawn by six greys. Lunder sat back and enjoyed the ride.

Velvet curtains kept out the winter wind and two copper warming-pans full of hot coals hung from hooks in the roof, filling the compartment with gentle heat.

Lunder was as happy as any man born in a crofter's hut could be to ride in such a carriage. He wondered what his father would think of him, if he could but see what a man he had become! A house with twenty-six servants, a mistress of great beauty, and a personal fortune greater even than the Duke's. All this, plus an estate in the islands should the Daroth prove to be the menace everyone feared. Lunder could hear the iron-shod wheels rattling over the cobbles, but inside the compartment there was little sense of movement. He gazed at the ornate panelling, wonderfully carved from red mahogany. I should have a carriage like this, he thought. And I will.

His thick fingers reached into the pocket of his velvet coat, drawing out a gold necklace and a tear-shaped amethyst set in filigree gold. An ancient piece, it had cost him 200 silver pieces. The amethyst was a present for Miriac, who loved such baubles. He would wake her when he got back, and watch her bright blue eyes go wide with joy. It was not a cause of irritation for Lunder that Miriac's ardour could only be awakened by such gems. Lunder himself found the acquisition of fresh wealth a continuing aphrodisiac.

Added to which, all the presents he gave her were, in fact, registered in his name at the treasury, with bills of sale. If ever he tired of her, all the jewels would be his again.

He heard the driver call out to the horses and the carriage slowed to a stop. The journey had been much swifter than he had calculated. Surely they could not be at the palace already? He rapped at the small hatch.

'Why are we stopping?' he called. There was no answer. Pulling back the curtains, he gazed out onto a grisly sight. The carriage had stopped in Gallows Square. Torches were lit all around it, and in their flickering light he could see ten corpses hanging by their necks. 'Move on!' he shouted at the driver. This was no sight for a man about to dine.

A figure moved to the carriage door, wrenching it open. A soldier in a plumed helm pulled down the steps.

'Out you get, sir,' he said.

'What are you doing? I am a guest of the Duke; he is awaiting me.'

'Indeed he is, sir. Now step down.'

Lunder's mind raced, but he could think of no reason to refuse further. Taking hold of the door frame, he pulled himself upright and climbed down the steps. Duke Albreck was standing there, the councillor Pooris with him, and that fellow Niro from the warehouse offices.

'Good evening, my lord,' said Lunder. 'I am at a loss . ..'

'You recognize this man?' asked the Duke, pointing to the first of the corpses. It was Cellis the cleric.

Lunder's mind reeled. 'You recognize him?' demanded the Duke again. The other corpses were sentries from the south gate.

'Yes, my lord, but I assure you . ..'

'Your assurances mean nothing, Lunder. You have defrauded me, and caused unnecessary suffering in Corduin. Your goods are forfeit; your lands are forfeit. Your wealth is forfeit.'

Lunder was trembling now. 'My lord, I allow that I have been . . . lax in my dealings. But I never intended to defraud you. All the goods are waiting in my warehouses. I... I make a gift of them to you.'

'They are already mine,' said the Duke coldly. 'Hang him.'

Lunder heard the words - but could not believe them.

'Sir, I beg you ...' he said, as two soldiers grabbed his arms and began to haul him towards the scaffold steps. As he reached them, he started to struggle, but a third man stepped forward and smote him hard in the face with a clenched fist. Lunder was half hauled up the steps. At the top his hands were tied behind him, a noose looped over his head and tightened around his neck. He began to sob, and scream for mercy. Then the floor gave way beneath him - and he dropped into darkness.

'I do not understand why he did it,' said the Duke. 'He was already rich. The prices he charged me were exorbitant, and his profits must have been huge.'

'For some men there is never enough wealth, my lord,' said Pooris. 'He knew that when the official warehouses were empty, people would pay anything for his goods. By smuggling them in, he would claim they were purchased before your decree was made.'

'I do not understand such greed,' said the Duke. 'But I understand the value of loyalty. You, Pooris, have done me a great service. You may have Lunder's house and his lands.'

'I thank you, my lord,' said Pooris, bowing deeply.

'And now my dinner awaits,' said the Duke, moving to his carriage and stepping inside. Niro approached Pooris. 'My congratulations, sir,' he said, with a bow.

The little politician chuckled. 'Seventeen warehouses packed with food - enough supplies to last most of the winter, and the treasury fuller than at any time since the war began. A satisfactory day, I think.'

'Indeed, sir.'

'Are those new boots I see, Niro?'

'Yes, sir. I bought them this afternoon.'

'They look expensive.'

'They were, sir. Compliments of the merchant Lunder.'

'What a benefactor he proved to be,' observed Pooris.

Early the next morning, Pooris rapped at the door of Lunder's house. Together with a troop of guardsmen, he entered the main hall and called for the Lady Miriac. She emerged from an upstairs room and, dressed in a gown of white, walked down the long staircase. Pooris marvelled at her beauty - the shining hair like spun gold, the porcelain loveliness of her skin. He took her into the main room and, as gently as he could, explained the circumstances of his visit. She sat demurely, saying little and showing nothing of her emotions.

'So,' she said, when he had finished, 'Lunder is dead, and the house is yours. How soon must I leave?'

'There is no need to leave, my lady,' said Pooris. 'In fact, I would very much like you to stay. I have brought with me a small gift for you.'

Reaching into his pocket he produced Lunder's necklace, with the shining amethyst shaped like a tear-drop. With delight he saw her eyes sparkle, and her hand reach out.

The walls of Karis's apartments were covered with sketches on paper. On the north wall were delicately drawn landscapes, showing the highlights of the land to the north of Corduin; the hills and valleys, the level ground close enough to the city walls for the Daroth to deploy catapults. On the west wall were sketches of the city's fortifications, the numbers of men needed to man the ramparts, the logistics of supplying them with food. On the south wall a huge map of Corduin itself, which Karis had marked with symbols denoting buildings to be used as hospitals or supply depots.