‘By the gods, he does seem younger,’ whispered Pana-gyn. ‘And you could do this for me?’
‘Of course.’
‘And what do you require in return? The soul of my first-born?’ Panagyn forced a laugh, but his eyes showed no humour.
‘I am not a demon, Lord Panagyn. I am a man, just as you are. What I require is your friendship, and your loyalty.’
‘And this will make me a king?’
‘In time. I have an army waiting to enter this land. I do not wish them to have to fight as soon as they arrive. Far better to enter a land that is friendly, that will be a base for expansion. You have upwards of three thousand fighting men. Aric can summon close to four thousand. I do not wish for a battle so early.’
‘Where is this army coming from?’ asked Panagyn. ‘The lands of the Chiatze?’
‘No. A gateway will open not thirty miles from here. One thousand of my men will pass through it. It will take time to bring the whole army through. Perhaps a year. Perhaps a little more. But once our base here is established we will conquer the lands of the Chiatze, and beyond. The ancient realm will be restored. And you will be rewarded beyond any dream you can envisage.’
‘And what of the others, the Duke, Shastar and Ruall?’ asked Panagyn. ‘Are they to be included in our venture?’
‘Sadly, no,’ said Eldicar Manushan. ‘The Duke is a man with no understanding of avarice, and no desire for conquest. Shastar and Ruall are loyal to him, and will follow where he leads. No, initially the land of Kydor will be shared between you and your cousin.’
‘They are to die, then?’ said Panagyn.
‘Indeed. Does that trouble you, my lord?’
‘Everybody dies,’ replied Panagyn, with a smile.
‘Not everybody,’ observed Aric.
In the nights that followed the attack on the palace many of the servants found difficulty in sleeping. Alone in their rooms as night fell, they would light lanterns and recite prayers. If sleep did come it was light, the merest sound of wind against the window-frames enough to have them wake in a cold sweat. Not so for Keeva, who slept more deeply than she had in years. Deep, dreamless sleep, from which she awoke feeling refreshed and invigorated.
And she knew why. When the demons had come she had not cowered in a corner, but taken up a weapon and used it. Yes, she had been afraid, but the fear had not overcome her. She remembered her uncle, and pictured his face as they sat on the riverbank. ‘You’ll hear people say that pride is a sin. Ignore them. Pride is vital. Not excessive pride, mind you. That is merely arrogant stupidity. No, being proud of yourself is what counts. Do nothing that is mean and spiteful, petty or cruel. And never give way to evil, no matter what the cost. Be proud, girl. Stand tall.’
‘Is that how you have lived your life, Uncle?’
‘No. That’s why I know how important it is.’ Keeva smiled at the memory, as she sat by the bed of the priestess. Ustarte was sleeping peacefully. Keeva heard the Grey Man enter and glanced up at him. He was dressed all in black, the clothes very fine. He beckoned to her and she followed him into the weapons room. ‘Ustarte is in danger,’ he said.
‘She seems to be recovering well.’
‘Not from her wounds. She has enemies. Soon they will come for her.’ He paused, his dark eyes locking to her gaze.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked.
‘What do you want to do?’ he countered.
‘I don’t understand you.’
‘You have a choice of two paths, Keeva. One carries you back up the steps to the palace and your room, the other will take you to places you may not want to go.’ He gestured towards the far bench. Upon it was laid a pair of soft leather leggings and a double-shouldered hunting jerkin. Beside the clothes was a belt bearing a bone-handled knife.
‘These are for me?’
‘Only if you want them.’
‘What are you saying, Grey Man? Speak plainly.’