Eldicar’s head felt as if it would burst. He sagged against the cellar wall.’ Yow must try to be tougher, Eldicar. Take note of the wonderful display shown by the Chiatze. Very well, I will let you go.’
Freedom from pain made Eldicar cry aloud. He sank to his knees. The cellar was cold. He sat down, resting his back against the wall. Tied to a chair close by was the unconscious Matze Chai. He was naked, his body a mass of festering sores, his skin showing the white blotches of leprosy. Maggots crawled upon his bony thighs.
I wanted to be a healer, thought Eldicar. With a sigh he pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door. He glanced back at the dying man. There was no one here, save for himself and the prisoner. No guard outside the unlocked door. Deresh Karany had evinced no further interest in the man. Turning back Eldicar moved to Matze Chai’s side. Taking a deep breath he laid his hands on the merchant’s blood-encrusted face. Deresh Karany’s spells were powerful and destroying the leprosy was the hardest task. It was deep-rooted. Eldicar worked silently, his mind focused. First he killed the maggots and healed the boils. The merchant groaned and began to wake. Eldicar placed him in a deep sleep then continued. Concentrating all his power into his hands Eldicar pulsed life-giving energy into Matze’s veins. Eyes closed, he sought out all pockets of the disease, slowly eradicating them.
Why are you doing this? he asked himself. There was no rational answer. Perhaps, he thought, it will add one fragrant lily to the rancid lake of my life. Stepping back he gazed down at the sleeping man. Matze’s skin gleamed with health. ‘You did not come out of this too badly, Matze Chai,’ he said. ‘You still have your twenty years.’
Pulling shut the door behind him, Eldicar climbed the stone stairs to the first level and moved through to the Oak Room. Beric was sitting by the far window. Lord Aric was lounging on a couch nearby. ‘Where is Panagyn?’ asked Eldicar.
‘He is preparing to ride out in search of the Grey Man,’ said Aric. ‘I think he is looking forward to the hunt. Did you learn anything from the slant-eye?’
‘Yes. The Grey Man is an assassin called Waylander.’
‘I have heard of him,’ said Aric. ‘I wish you’d let me observe the torture.’
‘Why?’ asked Eldicar wearily.
‘It would have been amusing, and I am bored.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, my friend,’ said Eldicar. ‘Perhaps you should visit Lady Lalitia.’
‘Aye, I think I will,’ said Aric, his mood momentarily brightening.
The small group had made camp in a wooded hollow close to the crest of a hill overlooking the Eiden Plain. Way-lander was standing alone, staring out over the ruins of Kuan-Hador. Behind him the priestess Ustarte was sleeping. Emrin and Niallad were skinning three hares Keeva had killed that morning.
‘It looks so peaceful in the moonlight,’ said Keeva. Waylander nodded. ‘You look tired,’ she added.
‘I am tired.’ He forced a smile. ‘I am too old for this.’
‘I have never understood wars,’ said Keeva. ‘What do they achieve?’
‘Nothing of worth,’ he said. ‘Mostly it comes down to mortality and the fear of death.’
‘Fear of death makes men kill one another? That is beyond me.’
‘Not the soldiers, Keeva, the leaders, the men who desire power. The more powerful they perceive themselves to be, the more god-like they become in their own eyes. Fame then becomes a kind of immortality. The leader cannot die. His name will echo down the centuries. It is all nonsense. They die anyway and turn to dust.’
‘You really are tired,’ she said, hearing the weary contempt in his words. ‘Why don’t you get some rest?’
Ustarte awoke and called out to them. Waylander strolled to where the priestess was sitting. Keeva followed him. ‘How are you feeling?’ asked Waylander.
‘Stronger,’ she said, with a smile, ‘and not just because of the sleep. Yu Yu Liang has found the Men of Clay.’
‘And?’
‘The Riaj-nor have returned. Already they are marching towards the gateway. Three hundred of them. When they reach it the power of their swords will seal it for another millennium.’ Her smile faded. ‘But it will be close. The Ipsissimus has been directing a dispersal spell against the gateway for days. If he succeeds, and the gateway spell is broken, no force in this world will bring it back.’
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