‘Like yourself?’ asked Waylander.
‘I have always loathed false modesty, so, yes, like myself. You are rich, and therefore powerful in this world. You could be useful to Kuan-Hador.’
Waylander laughed softly, and gazed around at the broken stones. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is Kuan-Hador.’
‘It was destroyed here,’ said Eldicar Manushan. ‘This is merely one reality. Kuan-Hador is eternal. And she will prevail. This world was once ours. It will be again. When that happens it would be preferable for you to be our friend, Dakeyras.’
‘If that happens,’ said Waylander.
‘It will happen. It will be bloody and many will die. But it will happen.’
‘I think this is the point where you tell me what happens if I decide not to be your friend,’ observed Waylander.
Eldicar Manushan shook his head. ‘You do not need to hear threats from me, Grey Man. As I said, you are a predator. You are also highly intelligent. I merely ask you to consider my offer of friendship.’
Clasping his hands behind his back, Eldicar Manushan walked back to the Duke and his officers.
The afternoon was hot and clammy, heavy rainclouds obscuring the sun. Elphons, Duke of Kydor, struggled to appear relaxed. A little way to the west the Grey Man was stretched out on the ground, apparently asleep. The little Chiatze swordsman was sitting cross-legged nearby, eyes closed. The priest Chardyn was restlessly pacing back and forth, occasionally stopping to peer out over the ruins.
The men seemed a little more at ease, though Elphons knew their mood was fragile at best. Like himself, they had never fought demons.
‘Will our swords cut demon flesh?’ he had asked Eldicar Manushan.
The magicker spread his hands. ‘It is said that the skin of a demon is like toughened leather, my lord. But, then, there are many kinds of demon.’
‘You think they will come?’
‘If they do it will be after dusk,’ said Eldicar Manushan.
The Duke pushed himself to his feet and approached the priest, Chardyn, who was pacing to and fro. The man looked frightened, he thought, which was not an encouraging sign. Priests should always be serene. ‘I hear you have filled the new temple with worshippers,’ said the Duke. ‘I must attend one of your services.’
‘Most kind, my lord. But, yes, the faithful grow ever more powerful in Carlis.’
‘Religion is a good thing,’ said the Duke. ‘It keeps the poor content.’
Chardyn smiled. ‘You believe that is its only purpose?’
The Duke shrugged. ‘Who can say? For myself I have never witnessed a miracle, nor has the Source ever spoken to me. But I am a soldier, first and foremost. I tend to believe what I can see and touch. I have little time for faith.’
‘You have never prayed?’
The Duke chuckled. ‘Once I was surrounded by Zharn tribesmen and my sword broke. I said a prayer then, I can tell you.’
‘It was obviously answered, for here you stand.’
‘I leapt at them and rammed the broken blade through the throat of the first man. As the others closed in, my men regrouped and scattered them. So tell me of your faith. From where does it spring?’
Chardyn looked away. ‘I realized the truth about the Source many years ago,’ he said softly. ‘Nothing I have learnt since has changed my mind.’
‘It must be comforting to have faith at times like this,’ said the Duke. He glanced down and saw that the Grey Man was awake. ‘Only an old soldier would be able to sleep before a battle,’ he said, with a smile.
The Grey Man moved to his feet. ‘If they come it won’t be a long battle,’ he said.
The Duke nodded. ‘You mean the ice? I saw the dead birds in the woods. Frozen to death. I am hoping our archers will strike many down before they reach us. Then – if the Source is with us,’ he added, with a glance at Chardyn, ‘we can finish the rest with swords.’
‘Always good to have a plan,’ said the Grey Man.
‘You disagree?’
The Grey Man shrugged. ‘The tracks I saw were of creatures far bigger than bears. Forget demons, my lord. If twenty bears were to rush this camp how many would be brought down by your archers? And how many would be killed by your swordsmen?’
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