z58
his name, and, as the youth turned, hit him in the temple with the cleaver. The blade had sunk deep, far deeper than Conalin had intended. Cleft-tongue died instantly.
‘Now leave me alone,’ Conalin told the others.
They had done so.
Unable to sleep Conalin pushed back his blanket and rose, walking to a nearby tree and urinating. Then he moved to the remains of the fire and added some of the twigs he had gathered earlier. With a stick he located the last glowing area of coals and, for some minutes, tried to blow them to fresh life. Finally admitting that the fire had died he sat back.
That was when he noticed the glow on the far side of the camp, a soft white light that was bathing the body of the sleeping priestess. Conalin watched it for some time, then he moved to Kebra’s side and woke the bowman.
‘What is it, lad?’ asked Kebra, sleepily.
‘Something is wrong with the priestess,’ said Conalin. Kebra sat up, then pushed back his blankets. Dagorian awoke, saw the glowing light, and, with Conalin and Kebra, walked over to where Ulmenetha lay. The light was stronger now, almost golden. It was radiating from her face and hands. Kebra knelt beside her.
‘She is burning up,’ said the bowman. Conalin looked closer. Sweat was running from the woman’s fat face, and her silver and blond hair was drenched. Kebra tried to wake her, but to no avail. The light around her grew brighter, and small white flowers blossomed around her blankets, writhing up through the grass. A heady scent filled the air, and Conalin could hear far-away music, whispering in his mind. Kebra drew back the blanket that covered the priestess. Only then did they see that she was floating some inches above the ground.
2.59
Nogusta moved alongside them, kneeling down and taking Ulmenetha’s hand. The glowing light swelled, and flowed up along Nogusta’s arm, bathing him in light. Releasing her hand he leapt backwards.
‘Is she under attack?’ asked Dagorian.
‘No,’ said Nogusta. ‘This is not blood magick.’
‘What should we do?’ put in Kebra.
‘Nothing. We will cover her and wait.’
Conalin peered down at the priestess’s glistening face. ‘She is getting thinner,’ he whispered. It was true. Sweat was coursing over her body, and her flesh was receding.
‘She’ll die if this carries on,’ said Kebra.
‘What is happening to her is not of an evil origin,’ said Nogusta. ‘If it were I would sense it through my talisman. I do not think she will die. Cover her.’
Conalin lifted the blanket over Ulmenetha. As he did so his hand touched her shoulder. Once more the light flowed, bathing him. An exquisite feeling of warmth and security filled him. His back itched and tingled, and he moaned with pleasure. Dizziness overcame him and he fell back to the grass. Pulling off his filthy shirt he gazed down at his arms. The open sores had vanished, and his skin glowed with health. ‘Look!’ he said to Kebra. ‘I am healed.’
The bowman said nothing. Reaching out he also touched the priestess. The light flowed over him. Bright lights danced behind his eyes, and it seemed, at first, as if he was looking through a sheen of ice, distorting his view. Slowly the ice melted, and he found himself staring at the distant mountains, their peaks sharp and clear against the new dawn. He too sat back. ‘I can see!’ he whispered. ‘Nogusta, I can see! Clearly!’
As the dawn rose, streaking the sky with gold, the light around Ulmenetha faded away, and her body slowly
260
settled down upon the carpet of white flowers.
Her eyes opened, the last of the golden light shining from them.
‘We cannot reach the coast,’ she said. ‘The Demon Lord is marching his army across the mountains, and the way to the sea is closed to us.’
Nogusta knelt beside her. ‘I know,’ he said, wearily.
Ulmenetha tried to sit, but sagged back exhausted. Her lips were dry. Nogusta ran to the wagon, returning with a water skin and a cup. Helping her to sit he held the cup to her lips. She drank sparingly. ‘We must try … to reach . . . the ghost city,’ she said. ‘Now let me rest.’ Nogusta lowered her to the ground. She fell asleep instantly.