Gemmell, David – Morningstar

‘You are a cook?’ I asked him.

‘Not just a cook. The cook. I was known as the finest food maker in Tuscania. I should have stayed there. But no, when the Angostins visited my Duke they clamoured for my services. Great golden coins they laid under my nose. Come to Ikena, they said. Serve us and become rich. Foolish Piercollo! He listened and he

liked the touch of their gold.’ He shook his great head. ‘I should have stayed in my own land.’It is not so bad in Ikena,’ I told him. ‘I grew up there, on the southern coast.’No, it is not so bad,’ he agreed. ‘But the weather? Rain and fog, drizzle and mist. And the people! Pigs would have a better understanding of food. They bring me across the continent, across the ocean, and for what? Burned meat and soft vegetables. There is no skill in such meals. Even that I could have borne, but not Azrek. Oh, no. Not him.’Tell me of him,’ I urged Piercollo.

‘Believe me, Owen, you would not wish to hear.’Tell me.’He is a torturer. Every night the screams could be heard from the dungeons. Men and women . . . and even little ones. Very bad, Owen. I think he likes to hear people scream. Well, I do not like it. One day I look for my implements and they are gone. I ask where they are. I am told the Count has them. You know what he does? He is roasting a man on my spit! That is enough for Piercollo. I left.’Sweet Heaven! But surely anyone roasted like that would die swiftly?’Yes, but not this time. The Count has a sorcerer – a vile man. He kept the prisoner alive for hours – alive to suffer as no man should suffer. I am glad to be free of such a Lord. All I wish for now is to return to Tuscania.’Where did you come upon the children?’He smiled, his teeth startlingly white in the gathering dusk. They hear Piercollo sing as they are wandering in the forest. The women tell me their village was attacked some days ago. Now they head for the town of Lualis. I too will go there; it is a river town, and rivers lead to the sea. From the coast I shall find a ship to take me home.’You have family in Tuscania?’I have a sister. A good woman – big, well-made. Eight sons she has borne, and not a single daughter. I will stay with her for a while. What of you? Where are you heading?’I spread my hands. ‘Everywhere and nowhere. I live in the forest.’

‘It is not so bad a place. Many deer and wild pig, rabbits and mountain sheep. Good onions and herbs. I like it here also. But it will not be peaceful for long – not now the rebels have made it a stronghold.’Rebels?’ I enquired. ‘I have heard of no rebels.’I was in Ziraccu when the news came in. There is a rebellion here, led by a hero called Morningstar. He and a hundred men attacked a convoy led by the Count’s two brothers. One of them was killed. Azrek has offered a thousand crowns’ reward for Morningstar’s capture. And an army is being raised to crush the rebellion.’I said nothing as my mind reeled with the news, but Piercollo continued to speak. ‘I would like to meet this Morningstar,’ he said. ‘I would like to shake his hand and wish him well.’Perhaps you will,’ I whispered.

Chapter Five

There are few still living who remember the old river city of Lualis, with its round castle, its wharves and lanes, timber yards and stock paddocks, and its profusion of building styles – Angostin brick, Highland wattle and clay, timbered roofs, tiled roofs, thatched roofs.

In those days, before the Deeway had become full of silt, sea­going ships could moor at Lualis, putting ashore cargoes of silks and satins, ivory, spices, dried fruit from the Orient, iron from the Viking mines of the northern continent. The city was filled with sailors, merchants, farmers, horse breeders, mercenary knights, and street women who would sell their favours for a copper farthing.

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