Waylander 3 – Hero in the Shadows By David Gemmell

A lion bounded in. People scattered, but without real fear now. Rising on its hind legs it pawed at the air, and growled menacingly. Then it padded around the room. A young woman reached out as it loped by, her hand sinking into the beast and passing through it. The lion turned towards her and reared up. She cried out – but the lion shattered, becoming a flock of golden doves, which circled the room.

The crowd cried out for more, but Eldicar Manushan merely bowed. ‘I have promised Lord Aric to reserve my finest – shall we say? – tricks for the Duke’s Feast at the Winter Palace in eight days. It was merely my duty tonight to whet your appetite. I thank you for your applause.’ He bowed again, and this time the clapping was thunderous.

Climbing down from the table he retrieved his staff and walked back to where Keeva and the boy were standing. Taking another goblet he twirled it in his hands before sipping the wine. Then he glanced at Keeva. ‘Did you enjoy the entertainment?’ he asked her.

‘I did, sir. I will be sorry to miss the Duke’s Feast. What is your page’s name?’

‘His name is Beric. He is a good boy, and I thank you for your kindness to him.’ Raising her hand to his lips he kissed it. At that moment there was a stir from the far side of the hall. Dressed in a black satin tunic shirt, dark leggings and boots, the Grey Man made his entrance. He was immediately seen by several women, who smiled and curtsied. He bowed, exchanged pleasantries and moved across the room.

Keeva watched him, and was struck by the easy, confident way in which he greeted his guests. He stood out from them by his lack of adornment. He wore no brooches or rings, and no gold or silver glistened from his tunic. Even so, he looked every inch the lord of the palace, she thought. Around him the other men seemed as flamboyant as peacocks.

Moving from group to group he made his way to the far end of the hall, where Keeva stood holding her tray. Lord Aric and his friend, Eldicar Manushan, stepped forward and greeted him.

‘I am sorry to have missed your display,’ the Grey Man told the magicker.

‘I do apologize, sir,’ he said, with a bow. ‘It was remiss of me to begin while you were not present. However, you will see something far greater at the Duke’s Feast.’

The music began again, and dancers took to the floor. Several of the guests approached the Grey Man. Keeva could no longer hear the conversation, but she watched his face as he listened to them. He was attentive, though his eyes had a faraway look, and it seemed to Keeva that he was not enjoying the festivities.

At that moment Keeva’s attention was caught by a young noble edging closer to the Grey Man. He looked tense, and there was sweat upon his brow, despite the cool breeze still emanating from the white globes that hung above the revellers. Then Keeva saw a second man detach himself from a nearby group, and also move towards the Grey Man. Their movements seemed furtive and Keeva found her heart beating faster.

The Grey Man was talking to a young woman in a red gown as the first of the men came up behind him. Keeva saw something glitter in the man’s hand. Before she could cry out a warning the Grey Man spun on his heel, his left arm blocking a knife thrust, his right hand, fingers extended, slamming into the assassin’s throat. The man gagged and fell to his knees, the long-bladed knife clattering to the floor. The second man ran in, knife raised, but collided with the woman in the red dress, who was trying to back away from the scene. The assassin pushed her aside and she fell heavily. The music had stopped now, and all the dancers were standing staring at the knifeman. Keeva saw the guard, Emrin, run at the assassin, but the Grey Man waved him back. The assassin stood very still, knife extended towards his intended victim. ‘Well,’ said the Grey Man, ‘are you intending to earn your pay?’