David Gemmell - Dark Moon

'That was then,' he told her. 'Now events have overtaken my plans. The Daroth are tunnelling beneath the city as we speak.'

'And the Duke has allowed you this leave of absence?'

'I am not a bondsman,' he said curtly. 'I can go where I will. Now please look to your personal possessions and make yourself ready.'

Miriac left the little man and moved back into the hall. Stopping a servant, she told him to unload her chests and return them to the master bedroom. Pooris heard her and rushed out. 'Do not be stupid,' he said. The Daroth will have no need of courtesans, my dear - save to cook you over a charcoal pit.'

Leaning forward, she kissed the crown of his bald head. 'You go, Pooris,' she said. 'I will stay and look after your house.'

'You don't understand ...'

'I understand well enough. The Daroth are tunnelling

beneath us and you believe the city is about to fall. You wish to save yourself - that is entirely natural. Do as you think fit, Pooris. But I will remain.'

'But ... I need you.'

'No. You want me. There is a difference.' He stood very still, and she could see the confusion on his face.

Even more, she could understand the warring emotions within him. Pooris was not a coward but, like all politicians, he was a pragmatist. If the Daroth had won — which he believed they had - then it was only sensible to retreat before them. Now Miriac had presented him with a fresh dilemma. He loved her, and, as a man, wanted to protect her. He could not do this from Hlobane or Loretheli. Realistically, however, he could not do it here in Corduin either; the tiny councillor would be no match for a Daroth. 'I want you to be safe,' she told him. 'You are very dear to me. I think you have made the right decision.' She saw him relax then, as she had known he would.

Without further conversation, she went upstairs to her rooms and began to unpack the chests. She had promised Tarantio to return at dusk, and had been wondering how to break the news to Pooris. Now there was no need.

The councillor came to her an hour later, and stood in the doorway of her bedroom. 'Please come with me,' he said. 'I beg you.'

'No, dear heart.'

'I have great wealth, much of it invested in Loretheli and the islands. You would be like a queen there.'

'Go, Pooris. The Daroth may even now be riding to intercept the convoys.'

Moving forward, he kissed her cheek, then turned and ran from the room.

Miriac heard him on the stairs, then returned her gaze to the long mirror on her dressing table. 'You are a fool,' she told herself. Then she remembered the time with Tarantio, the warmth of his body upon hers.

She had thought of him every day since the curious events two years before, after the duel with Carlyn. The Duke had asked her to entertain his new champion, and she had done so to the best of her considerable abilities. It had been a wondrous night, and she had been surprised by the intensity of his virgin love-making. Then he had fled. No other word could describe it. The following morning she had tried to dismiss it from her mind, yet she could not. Investigations revealed that Tarantio had spurned the Duke's offer to become champion and instead had enlisted as a mercenary. There was no sense to it. Why would any man turn down the promise of riches and comfort for a life of hardship and premature death?

For some time she continued to ask about him. Then she met the merchant Lunder, whom Tarantio paid to invest his hard-earned silver. Through Lunder she knew where Tarantio was, and what battles he had fought in. It was a tenuous link, but a link nonetheless.

When she had gone to him last night she had hoped to find him less fabulous than in her memories, so that she could finally be rid of the torment of thinking of him. Instead she found the experience enriching, and she still felt an inner glow as she recalled his tender touch.

'I will not lose you again,' she said.

In the three days that followed, the Daroth made one half-hearted attack on the eastern gate, but were driven back by the fireballs of two catapults. Meanwhile the endless tunnelling continued. Minute by minute, Daroth engineers could be seen leaving the mouth of the tunnel bearing sacks of rock which were loaded to wagons, then ferried away out of sight. They worked ceaselessly, and always at the same pace. 'They are like machines,' said a soldier to Forin, as he and Karis observed the work. 'Do they never rest or sleep?'

'Apparently not,' replied Forin. 'But they die, boy. And more of them will die when they break through.'

'It is said they don't die,' put in the soldier. 'They go back to eggs or some such, and are born again.'

Forin did not reply. When Karis walked away, he followed her. 'You are pensive today,' he said, as they strolled along the avenue towards the palace.

'I have much to think about.'

'We will survive, Karis. I'm sure of that.'

'It would be nice to be so sure.'

'I don't intend to fall before some whey-faced giant termite — not now I've found you.'

'I hope that you don't!'

'You have a plan yet?'

'If I tell you, then you will not be able to lead the fighting in the catacombs. Do you want me to tell you?'

He paused. 'I would dearly like to say yes to that, but I cannot. Tarantio and Vint have their magical swords. I have my strength. It will be needed in the catacombs. Speaking of Tarantio, I haven't seen him for days. Where is he?'

'I don't know,' replied Karis. 'He has failed to attend two meetings. I want him there tonight.'

'I'll fetch him myself,' promised Forin. She made to walk on, but he gently took her arm. 'When this is over, would you consider marrying me?' he asked her.

'You are certainly an optimist, Redbeard.'

'Always. But especially now. You think I will allow the Daroth to steal my joy?'

Karis looked up into his broad, flat face and met the intensity of his green gaze. 'You are the strongest man I've known. Perhaps you can survive. Ask me again when the Daroth are defeated.'

He moved to kiss her but she stepped back, her eyes cold. 'Not in the open, Forin.'

'Are you ashamed of me?' he asked, bewildered.

'Have you not heard what they call me? "The Ice Queen". Let them keep their illusions. Now is not the time for them to see Karis the woman.'

She swung away from him and strode on. Forin cut off to the left and made his way to the small house Tarantio had rented. He hammered on the door, but at first there was no reply. Four times more he thumped his fist against the wood, then finally the door swung open and Tarantio stood there, bare-chested. 'Sleeping in the middle of the day? You are getting old, man.' Without waiting to be invited, Forin stepped inside, walking through to the main room. His nostrils flared; the smell of strong perfume lingered in the air.

'I am sorry, my friend, I did not know you had company.'

'Well, I have,' said Tarantio. 'What brings you here?'

'Karis wanted to make sure you would attend tonight's meeting.'

'Tell her I will not be there.'

'You must be - that is where we will plan the fight in the catacombs.' Swiftly he told Tarantio of the caverns under the city. 'Ozhobar thinks the Daroth will break through sometime tomorrow.'

'I am no longer willing to fight,' said Tarantio.

'Is this a joke? You think you have a choice?'

'A man always has a choice. I am leaving tomorrow.'

'I don't believe it,' declared Forin, stunned. 'You of all people! How can you consider leaving us to fight alone?

You are the best swordsman I ever saw, and you have a magical blade. We need you, man.' 'The sword is by the door. Take it when you go.' Forin looked at him quizzically. 'What has happened to you, Chio? You are not the man I knew. You are certainly not the man who said he could swallow me whole if someone buttered my head and pinned my ears back. Gods, man, has the heart gone out of you?' 'Yes,' said Tarantio. 'The heart has gone out of me.' Disgusted, Forin swung away from him and headed for the door. The sword belt was hanging on a hook and the giant lifted it clear.