The mate glanced along the deck to where Serbitar and Vintar stood at the port rail.
‘I know what you mean – they never say anything. I’ll be glad to see the back of them,’ said the mate, making the sign of the Claw above his heart.
‘That won’t ward off their kind of demons,’ said the captain.
Serbitar smiled as Vintar pulsed: ‘We are less than popular, my boy.’
‘Yes. Always it is thus. It is hard to hold back contempt.’
‘But you must.’
‘I said hard, not impossible.’
‘Word play. Even to notice that it is hard is an admission of defeat,’ said Vintar.
‘Always the scholar, Father Abbot.’
‘As long as the world has pupils, master priest.’
Serbitar grinned, a rare sight. A gull wheeled and circled above, the ship; the albino casually mind-touched it as it arced above the mast.
Within its mind was nothing of joy or sorrow or hope. Only hunger and need. And frustration, that the ship offered no sustenance.
A feeling of fierce exultation suddenly swept over the young priest in a mind pulse of incredible power, a sense of ecstasy and fulfilment flooding his body. He gripped the rail hard and reached back along the path, shutting off his probe as it neared the door of Rek’s cabin.
‘Their emotions are very strong,’, pulsed Vintar.
‘It is unseemly to dwell on it,’ replied Serbitar primly, a blush apparent even in the moonlight.
‘Not so, Serbitar, my friend. This world has few redeeming features, and one is the capacity for the people upon it to love one another with great and enduring passion. I rejoice in their love-making. It is a beautiful thing for them.’
‘You are a voyeur, Father Abbot,’ said Serbitar, smiling now. Vintar laughed aloud.
‘It is true. They have such energy, the young.’
Suddenly Arbedark’s slim, serious face appeared in both men’s minds, his features set hard.
‘I am sorry,’ he pulsed. ‘There is grave news from Dros Delnoch.’
‘Speak,’ said Serbitar.
‘The Earl is dead. And there are traitors within the Dros. Ulric has ordered Druss killed.’
*
‘Form a circle round me,’ shouted Druss, as the exhausted men staggered from the wall. ‘Now sit down before you fall down.’
His blue eyes scanned the circle, then he snorted with contempt. ‘You dregs! Call yourselves soldiers? Finished after a few runs. How the hell do you think you’re going to feel after three days’ fighting, day and night, against a Nadir force that outnumbers you fifty to one? Eh?’
No one answered him. The question was all too obviously rhetorical. Indeed most of the men were delighted to be berated thus – it meant a further respite from the interminable training.
Druss pointed at Gilad. ‘You! Which four groups are represented here?’
Gilad swung round checking the faces. ‘Karnak, Bild, and Gorbadac . . . er . . . I don’t know the other one.’
‘Well!’ bellowed the old man. ‘Will not one of you beggars own up? Which is the other damned group?’
‘Falcon,’ piped a voice from the back.
‘Good! Group officers step forward,’ said Druss. “The rest of you, take a breather.’ He walked a little distance from the men, beckoning the officers to follow.
‘Right, before I tell you what I want, will the officer from Group Falcon make himself known?’
‘I am the officer, sir. Dun Hedes,’ said a young man who was short but well-built.
‘Then why did you not announce your group when I asked. Why was it some spotty farm boy?’
‘I am partially deaf, sir, and when I am tired and the blood is pounding I can hardly hear.’
‘Then, Dun Hedes, consider yourself relieved of Group Falcon.’
‘You can’t do that to me! I have always served well. You cannot disgrace me!’ said the young man, his voice rising.
‘Listen to me, you young fool. There is no disgrace in being deaf. And you can feel free to walk with me on the battlements if you will, when the Nadir arrive. But how well can you serve me as a leader if you can’t hear my damned instructions?’
‘I will manage,’ said Dun Hedes.
‘And how well will your men manage when .they try to ask for advice? What happens if we sound the retreat and you don’t hear it? No! The decision’s made. Stand down.’