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Waylander 3 – Hero in the Shadows By David Gemmell

Voices sounded close by. Opening his eyes he saw the magicker, Eldicar Manushan, strolling among the corpses. As he reached each hound he lightly touched it. With each touch one of the creatures disappeared, until at last the hall was eerily silent.

‘Gods, what a mess,’ he heard someone say. Shastar glanced to his right to see Lord Aric, picking his way across the marble floor, careful to avoid the pools of blood and severed limbs. Shastar watched, as if in a dream. He could hardly believe this was happening. How could a cultured man like Aric have been responsible for such a massacre? He had known Aric for years. They had hunted together, discussed art and poetry. There had been no indication of the monster dwelling within him.

Shastar watched as the magicker walked around the hall, staring down at the bodies. He saw him reach the East Gallery stairs. Aric moved across to the body of Duke Elphons, dragging it from the ornate, high-backed chair. The lord of House Kilraith then tore the cape from the Duke’s shoulders and wiped blood from the chair before sitting down and surveying the hall. Eldicar Manushan joined him. ‘There is no sign of the Grey Man,’ he said.

‘What? He must be here.’

At that moment a shadow fell across Shastar. He looked up to see the black-garbed warrior who had killed the Duke looming over him. The man’s features were Chiatze, though his eyes were golden. He leaned in close. Shastar saw that his pupils were elongated, like those of a cat.

‘This one lives,’ said the warrior. Reaching down he grabbed Shastar by the arm and hauled him to his feet. The strength in the man’s grip surprised Shastar. The warrior was slim and not tall, yet the heavy-set lord of House Bakard was dragged upright in an instant.

‘Well, well,’ said Eldicar Manushan, striding forward, ‘I never cease to be surprised by the vagaries of war.’ He looked into Shastar’s face. ‘Have you any idea of the odds against surviving an attack by so many Kraloth? Millions to one.’ Stepping in close he looked at the wounds on Shastar’s back. ‘Hardly a scratch, though the wounds will still be fatal if left untreated.’

‘Why have you done this?’ asked Shastar.

‘I can assure you it wasn’t for pleasure,’ said Eldicar Manushan. ‘I take no joy in such enterprises. But, you see, there are only two ways to deal with potential enemies: make them allies or kill them. I just did not have the time to make so many alliances. However, since you have so luckily escaped death, I feel obliged to give you the opportunity of serving my cause. I can heal your wounds, give you back your youth, and promise you centuries of life.’

‘We don’t need him!’ shouted Aric.

‘I say who we need, mortal,’ hissed Eldicar Manushan. ‘What say you, Lord Shastar?’

‘If an alliance with you means joining forces with a worm like Aric I’ll have to decline,’ said Shastar.

‘You really should reconsider,’ said Eldicar gently. ‘Death is terribly final.’

Shastar smiled – then lunged at the magicker. His right hand curled around Eldicar Manushan’s dagger, dragging it from its sheath and ramming the blade into the magicker’s chest. Eldicar Manushan staggered back, then righted himself. Taking hold of the hilt he slowly pulled the weapon clear. Blood dripped from the blade. Eldicar Manushan held the dagger out before him and released it. Instead of falling to the floor it hovered in the air. ‘That really hurt,’ he said, aggrieved. ‘But I understand your anger. Rest in peace.’

The blade spun and swept into Shastar’s chest, slipping between the ribs and plunging into his heart.

Shastar grunted then fell to his knees. He too tried to pull the dagger clear, but then pitched face first to the floor. ‘Such a shame,’ said the magicker. ‘I liked the man. He had honour and courage. Now . . . where were we? Ah, yes, the Grey Man.’ He glanced up at the East Gallery. ‘Your men are taking rather a long time to complete a simple task, Aric.’

Lord Aric rose from the Duke’s chair and ordered two of the guards to fetch Gaspir. Moments later one of the men called from the gallery, ‘My lord, Gaspir and Valik are dead. There is no sign of the boy. They must have escaped to the gardens and the beach.’

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Categories: David Gemmell
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