‘Yes, and very unusual. All officers have been told to watch for a man bearing such a weapon; it is said he killed the King.’
Waylander said nothing, but his dark eyes met Gellan’s gaze and the assassin looked away. Gellan nodded. ‘Go now, Dakeyras. I wish to speak to your friend.’
‘Everything is not always as it seems,’ said Waylander.
‘I do not want to hear it. Go now.’
As Waylander left, the door opened and Dardalion entered. Gellan stood to receive him, offering his hand. The priest shook it. The clasp was firm, but not strong, thought Gellan.
‘Sit down,’ said Gellan, offering Dardalion the bed. ‘Tell me about your friend.’
‘Dakeyras or Danyal?’
‘Dakeyras.’
‘He rescued me … all of us. He has proved a fine friend.’
‘Have you always known him as Dakeyras?’
‘Of what concern is that to you, sir?’
Then you did know him by another name?’
‘I shall not divulge it to you.’
‘I have already spoken to the children,’ said Gellan.
‘Then you do not need me to corroborate.’
‘No. I knew Dakeyras once – or thought I did. A man of honour.’
‘He has shown himself to be such a man over the last few days,’ said Dardalion. ‘Let that suffice.’
Gellan smiled and nodded. ‘Perhaps. Tell me about yourself and the dread powers you showed today.’
‘There is little I can tell you. I am … was … a priest of the Source. I have some powers of Travel and communication.’
‘But what made the enemy run?’
‘Fear,’ said Dardalion simply.
‘Of what?’
‘Merely fear. My fear hurled into their minds.’
‘Make me feel fear,’ said Gellan.
‘Why?’
‘So that I may understand?’
‘But I feel no fear at this time. I have nothing to use.’
‘Will the enemy return? Can you tell me that?’
‘I do not think that they will. There is a man among them – his name is Ceoris – who is urging them to attack, but they are afraid. Given time he will convince them, but within the hour your reinforcements will be here.’
‘Who is coming?’
‘A large man named Karnak. He has four hundred riders with him.’
‘That is good news indeed. You are a useful man to know, Dardalion. What are your plans?’
‘Plans? I have no plans. I have not thought …’
‘We have priests in Skultik – more than two hundred. But they won’t fight like you do – if they did, the Drenai could gain much. Using your powers, magnified a hundredfold, we could set entire Vagrian armies fleeing before us.’
‘Yes,’ said Dardalion wearily, ‘but that is not the way of the Source. I became what I am from weakness. Were I as strong as so many of my brother priests I would have resisted – even as they do -such abuses of power. I cannot ask them to become what they loathe. The true power of the Source has always lain in the absence of power. Can you understand that?’
‘I am not sure that I can.’
‘It is like holding a spear to the chest of an enemy, then laying it aside. Even as he kills you – if such he does – he knows that he does not do it by his strength, but by your choice.’
‘But – to continue with your analogy – you are still dead, yes?’
‘Death is not important. You see, the Source priests believe that for life to exist there must be harmony created by balance. For every man who lives to steal or kill, there must be another who lives to give and save. Tidal love was the name they gave it at my temple; my Abbot used to teach it often. In a merchant’s shop, the merchant gives you too many coins in change. You keep the coins, marvelling at your good fortune. But when you have gone he realises his mistake and is angry, both with himself and with you. So the next man who comes into the shop he cheats, to gain back his money. This man in turn realises later and he is angry, and perhaps takes out his anger on someone else. So the tide goes out, each wave affecting more and more people.