‘What then will separate you from Winter Kay? Will you meet evil with evil?’
‘Yes,’ said Gaise Macon.
When the glowing image of Kranos had appeared two days previously, floating above the skull and the dying king, the Redeemers had sat awestruck, their faces shining with religious zeal. All of them had experienced the surge of power radiating from the figure. It had flowed over them, lifting their spirits, strengthening their bodies.
Not so Winter Kay. He had stood in stunned surprise as the golden light formed into the shape of a man, golden-haired and wondrously handsome. In that moment Winter Kay had felt a truly terrible fear. Like all fanatics and zealots he had never in his life experienced self-doubt. Single-minded and ambitious, he had plotted and planned for years to become king. The Orb of Kranos had merely been a tool towards that end.
The moment that the figure appeared Winter Kay saw all the certainties he had held to so strongly melting away like morning mist in the sunshine. And when it spoke his heart had missed a beat. ‘On the day of my resurrection you will be blessed, my children.’
Then, as swiftly as it had formed, the image faded.
The underground chamber was silent, and Winter Kay felt all eyes upon him. ‘The will of the Orb be done,’ he managed to say.
Then he had walked back to the blood-drenched skull, covered it with the black velvet cloth and replaced it in the iron box. He had stood there for some moments, staring into the open, dead eyes of the king. Not one of the Redeemers had moved or spoken. Winter Kay’s mouth was dry.
He swung back to face his followers. ‘Go, my brothers,’ he said, surprised that his voice remained as commanding as ever despite the dryness of his throat and the trembling in his limbs. ‘We will meet here in three days and I will explain to you then the mystery you have witnessed.’
Carrying the iron box Winter Kay strode from the room. In fact he wanted to run. Close to panic he climbed the stairs, making his way to his own apartments. Locking the door he slumped down on a couch, and placed the black box on the low table before it.
He felt dizzy and faintly nauseous. Instinctively he reached for the lid of the box. Always before when he had felt less than powerful he would place his hand on the skull and receive an instant burst of energy. Now he felt nervous and fearful, and merely sat staring at the box. The palms of his hands were damp with sweat, and he wiped them on his leggings.
‘Why do you fear me?’ came a voice inside his mind.
Winter Kay jerked and surged to his feet, his heart hammering wildly.
‘Be calm, mortal. No harm will befall you.’
‘Who are you?’ demanded Winter Kay, his voice no longer commanding, but querulous and frightened.
The soft sound of laughter filled his mind. ‘The will of the Orb be done. I liked that. You know who I am, Winter Kay. You have visited me many times. Sadly my blood does not flow in your veins, and your conscious mind has been unable to retain the memories. It will be different now that I am stronger.’
‘How is it that you can now . . . speak to me?’
‘The wretch you sacrificed for me had traces of my blood in his veins. But I asked why you were frightened.’
‘I fear nothing!’
‘Well said. I prefer it when my servants show spirit.’
‘I am no man’s servant.’
‘Indeed not. All men will serve you, Winter Kay. Me they will merely worship. Take my skull from that cursed box. Do it now.’
‘No. I will not.’
‘Oh, mortal, you disappoint me, and that is not wise. Without me you will have no throne. Your enemies will gather and tear you down. Without me you will live a normal human lifespan. What would that give you – even were you to defeat your enemies? Twenty more years perhaps?’ The laughter came again. ‘No, Winter Kay, you will release me from this iron chamber, for I offer immortality. And only I can protect you from the man with the golden eye.’