‘Are you determined to be morbid all day?’ countered Antikas. ‘If so you will be a less than merry companion. You do not have to stay here, Dagorian. There are no chains.’
‘Why do you stay?’ asked the younger man.
‘I like to sit on bridges,’ Antikas told him. ‘It calms my soul.’
‘Well I am staying because I’m too frightened not to,’ said Dagorian. ‘Can you understand that?’
‘No,’ admitted Antikas Karios.
‘A few days ago I attacked five Ventrian lancers. I thought I was going to die. But my blood was up and I charged them. Then Nogusta and Kebra came to my aid and we won.’
‘Yes, yes,’ interrupted Antikas. ‘I saw you had Vellian’s horse. But what is the point of this tale?’
‘The point?’ said Dagorian, his face twisting in anguish. ‘The point is that the fear never went away. Every day it grows. There are demons pursuing us. Unbeatable and unholy. And where are we headed? To a ghost city with no hope of rescue. I could not take the fear any more. So here I am. And look at me! Look at my hands!’ Dagorian held out his hands, which were trembling uncontrollably.
318
‘So humour me, Antikas Karios. Tell me why you are here on this cursed bridge?’
Antikas leaned forward, his hand snaking out, the palm lashing against Dagorian’s cheek. The sound of the slap hung in the air. Dagorian surged to his feet, hand scrabbling for his sword. ‘Where is your fear now?’ said Antikas, softly. The softly spoken words cut through Dagorian’s fury, and he stood, hand on sword hilt, staring into the dark, cruel eyes of Antikas Karios. The Ventrian spoke again. ‘It is gone, is it not, your fear? Swamped by rage.’
‘Yes, it is gone,’ said Dagorian, coldly. ‘What was your point?’
‘You were right to stay here, Dagorian. A man would have to be a contortionist to both face his fear and flee from it.’ Antikas stood and walked to the side of the bridge, leaning upon it and staring down into the water below. ‘Come and look,’ he said. The Drenai officer joined him.
‘What am I looking at?’
‘Life,’ answered Antikas. ‘It starts high in the mountains with the melting of the snow. Small streams bubbling together, merging, flowing down to join larger rivers, then out to the warm sea. There the sun shines upon the water and it rises as vapour and floats back over the mountains, falling as rain or snow. It is a circle, an endless beautiful circle. Long after we are gone, and the children of our grandchildren are gone, this river will still flow all the way to the sea. We are very small creatures, Dagorian, with very small dreams.’ He turned to the young officer and smiled. ‘Look at your hands. They are no longer shaking.’
They will – when the Krayakin come.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Antikas.
319
His experience within the body form of Kalizkan had given the Demon Lord, Anharat, great insights into the workings of human mechanisms. Unable to halt the cancer spreading through the sorcerer’s body Anharat had allowed all the mechanisms to fail, then using magick to maintain the illusion of life. Not so with this body form!
With Malikada slain and departed Anharat repaired the pierced heart, and kept it pumping, the nutrients in the blood feeding the cells and keeping the form alive – after a fashion. The spell needed to be maintained at all times. If the magick ceased to flow the body would decay immediately. This was not, however, a problem, for the spell was a small one. He had more difficulty with the autonomic responses, like breathing and blinking, but, upon experimentation overcame them. Using Kalizkan’s corpse had been an effort, especially when corruption and decay accelerated. More and more power had been needed to maintain a cloak spell over the disgusting form. Now, however, he merely needed to keep the blood flowing, and air filling the lung sacs. There were also advantages to this new method. Senses of taste, touch and smell were incredibly heightened.
Anharat sat now in his tent, sipping a goblet of fine wine, swilling it around his mouth and savouring the taste. Although he preferred his own natural form Anharat considered keeping this one for a few years in order to fully appreciate the pleasures of human flesh. They were so much more exquisite than he could have imagined. Perhaps it was because the humans were so short-lived, he thought, a gift of nature to creatures who were in existence for a few, brief heartbeats. Emsharas had discovered these pleasures, and now Anharat under-