Gemmell, David – Dark Moon

Duvodas said nothing. He stood stock-still, his body rigid. Capel placed his hand on Duvo’s shoulder. ‘Come now, lad. It is over.’

‘It is not over,’ said Duvo, turning his face towards the officer. Capel blanched as he saw the blood red lines on the young man’s face. Pulling a scarf from his belt, he gave it to Duvodas.

‘Wipe your face now,’ he said. ‘You’ll frighten the children.’ Dumbly Duvo wiped the blood away. But it made no difference. The crimson lines remained, as if tattooed upon his skin.

‘Dear Heaven,’ whispered Capel. ‘What is happening here?’

‘Death,’ said Duvodas coldly. ‘And it is but the beginning.’

The Pearl at his side was forgotten now, as was his mission, as slowly he began to walk towards the new forest. Trees and roots shrank away from him, creating a path.

‘Where are you going?’ Capel called out.

‘To destroy the Daroth,’ said Duvodas, striding on faster now.

And the forest closed in around him.

Leaving his lieutenant in charge of the convoy, Capel made the seven-mile ride to Corduin to report the bizarre events of the day. Despite the imminence of the Daroth threat, the Duke felt compelled to ride out to the scene of the slaughter. With Vint, Necklen and twenty lancers, the Duke arrived at the scene just before dusk.

The group drew rein at the edge of the forest. The bodies of the Daroth horses hung, skewered into the tree-tops. The Daroth corpses had withered away to dry skin, flapping in the evening breeze.

‘I have never seen – or heard of – anything like it,’ said the Duke. ‘How could this happen?’ No one answered him.

‘I wish the sorcerer had come back to Corduin,’ said Vint. ‘We could certainly use him there.’

‘Who was he?’ asked the Duke.

‘A harpist, sir. He sang at the Wise Owl tavern. I heard him once or twice; he was very good.’

‘His name is Duvodas, my lord,’ put in Capel.

The Duke turned his hooded eyes on Capel. ‘My apologies, Captain, for doubting your story. It sounded incredible. But here is the evidence, and I do not know what it means. You had best rejoin the column, and I wish you good luck on your journey.’

Capel saluted. ‘And may good fortune be with you,

sir,’ he said. Then he swung his horse and galloped off towards the south.

The riders reached Corduin just after dark and the Duke summoned Karis to his private chambers. The warrior woman looked drawn and tired, and there was about her a nervous energy that concerned Albreck. ‘I hope you are getting enough rest, General,’ he said, offering her a seat.

‘Not a lot of time for rest, my lord. Apart from the attack on the convoy, our scouts report the main Daroth army is camped less than a day’s march from the city.’

‘So close? That is unfortunate.’

‘They halted their march at the same time as the forest miracle,’ said Karis. ‘I would imagine the scale of the slaughter has given them a nasty shock. They would have had no reason to believe that any human would have such power.’

‘I am rather shocked myself. How could this man have accomplished such a feat?’

‘Vint is questioning the tavern-keeper, Ceofrin, and I have had a long conversation with Tarantio. It seems that Duvodas was raised among the Eldarin, who taught him many secrets of magic. Tarantio is stunned by the events; he maintains that Duvodas was a pacifist, wholly opposed to war and violence. He also told me a strange tale concerning Sirano.’ Karis told the Duke of the attempted rescue of Sirano at the monastery, the coming of the Daroth and the recovery of the Eldarin Pearl.

‘Sirano was right,’ said the Duke, bitterness in his voice. ‘The Pearl is a fearsome weapon. Why did this harpist not bring it to us? We could have destroyed the Daroth utterly!’

‘Perhaps it is best that he did not,’ answered Karis. ‘Ever since Sirano unleashed his magic against the Pearl, nothing

has been the same. And we cannot spend valuable time concerning ourselves with speculation. Perhaps within a day the enemy will be upon us. That must be our prime concern.’