Ghost King (15 page)

'No!' whispered Culain, but Maedhlyn was in full flow now.

'As for Thuro, he had no will to live and I used up a complete Stone to save him. But Goroien was always close through those early years, and I could not allow Thuro to grow strong. I gave him the weakness in his chest. I robbed him of his strength. Goroien saw the king's suffering and let the boy live. She was always a vindictive witch, only you were too blind to see it. At last she decided the time had come to wreak her full vengeance. She it was who went to Eldared, lifting him with dreams of glory. Not to kill the king, but Alaida's child - your grandson.

'You blamed me for Alaida's death. I said nothing. But when I left her on that fateful morning her pulse was strong, her body fit, her mind happy. She did not have the disease of kings at that time, Culain.'

The Mist Warrior lifted his goblet and drained the spirit, feeling its warmth cut through him. 'Have you ever loved anyone, Maedhlyn?'

'No,' replied the Enchanter, realising as he said it the regret he carried.

'You are right. I knew she killed Shaleat, yet I could not hate her for it. It was why I decided on mortality.' Culain laughed without humour. 'What a weak response for a warrior. I would die to punish Goroien.'

'It is ironic, Culain. You are dying when you do not have to, and she is dying when she does not wish to. What will you do?'

'What choice do I have? My grandson is lost in her world, along with another I love dearly. To save them I must kill the woman I have loved for two thousand years.'

'I will come with you to Skitis Island.'

'No, Maedhlyn. Stay here and aid the Roman, Aquila. Hold the land for Thuro.'

'We cannot hold. I was thinking of taking up my travels once more.'

'What is left for you?' asked Culain. 'You have enjoyed the glories of Assyria, Greece and Rome. Where will you go?'

'There are other worlds, Culain.'

'Give it a little time. We have both given a great deal to this insignificant island. I would rather Eldared did not inherit it - or the barbarian Hengist.'

Maedhlyn smiled wistfully. 'As you say, we have given a great deal. I will stay awhile. But I feel we are holding back the sea with a barrier of ice ... and summer is coming.'

Prasamaccus sat with Korrin Rogeur behind a screen of bushes on the eastern hills of Mareen-sa, watching a herd of flat-antlered deer grazing three hundred paces away.

'How do we approach them?' asked Korrin.

'We do not. We wait for them to approach us.'

'And if they do not?'

'Then we go home hungry. Hunting is a question of patience. The tracks show the deer follow this trail to drink. We sit here and we let the hours flow over us. Your friend Hogun chose to sleep the time away, which is as good a way as any - so long as someone stays on watch.'

'You are a calm man, Prasamaccus. I envy you.'

'I am calm because I do not understand hate.'

'Has no one ever wronged you?'

'Of course. When I was a babe a drunken hunter rode his horse over me. All my life since I have known pain - the agony of a twisted limb, the hurt of being alone. Hatred would not have sustained me.'

The dark huntsman smiled. 'I cannot be like you, but being with you calms me. Why are you here in Pinrae?'

'I understand we are seeking a sword. Or rather that Thuro is seeking a sword. He is the son of a king - a great king by all accounts -who was murdered a few months ago.'

'From which land across the water do you come?'

Prasamaccus sat back and stretched his leg. 'It is a land of magic and mist. It is called Britain by the Romans, but in reality is many lands. My tribe is the Brigante, possibly the finest hunters of the world - certainly the most ferocious warriors.'

Korrin grinned broadly. 'Ferocious? They are not all like you then?'

Before Prasamaccus could reply the deer stampeded in a mad run towards the west. The Brigante pushed himself to his feet. 'Quickly,' he said. 'Follow me!' He limped towards an ancient oak and Korrin joined him.

'What are you doing?'

'Help me up.' Korrin linked his lands and levered the Brigante high enough to grab an overhanging branch and haul his body across it.

'Swiftly now, climb!' urged Prasamaccus. The Brigante moved aside and strung Vamera, notching a long shaft to the string. A terrible roar reverberated through the forest and Korrin leapt for the branch, pulling himself up just as the first Vore bounded into the clearing. Prasamaccus' arrow flashed into its throat, but its run continued unchecked.

A second shaft bounced from its skull as it sprang towards the hunters. Its claws scrabbled at the branch but Korrin kicked out, his boot smashing into the gaping jaws. The beast fell back and two others joined it, pacing round the tree. Prasamaccus sat very still, a third arrow ready, and stared at the great cats. They were each some eight feet long, with huge flat faces, oval yellow eyes and fangs as long as a man's fingers. The first beast sat down and worried at the arrow in its throat, snapping it with his paw. He then continued to prowl the tree. The beasts' backs were ridged with muscle and the Brigante could see no easy way to kill them.

'Shoot at them!' urged Korrin. At the sound of his voice the beasts began to roar and leap for the branch, but none could get a hold. Prasamaccus lifted his finger to his lips and mouthed a single word.

'Patience!'

He swung his quiver to the front and began to examine his arrows. Some were single-barbed, others double. Some had smooth heads for easy withdrawal; some were light, others heavy. Finally he chose a double-barbed shaft with a strongly weighted head. He notched it. It seemed to the Brigante that the only weak spot the Vore had was behind the front leg at the back of the ribs. If he could angle a shot correctly . . .

He waited for several minutes, occasionally drawing back the string, but hesitating. The watching Korrin grew ever more tense - but he held his tongue. A Vore paced away from the tree, presenting his back and Prasamaccus whistled softly. The beast stopped and turned. In that instant the arrow flashed through the air, slicing into the Vore's back and through to its heart. It slumped to the ground without a sound.

Selecting a fresh arrow, the Brigante waited. A second Vore approached the dead beast and began to push at the corpse with its snout, trying to raise it. Another arrow sang through the clearing and the Vore reared and fell to its back, its hind legs kicking. Then it was still. The third beast was confused; it approached its comrades and then backed away, smelling blood. It roared its anger to the skies.

A single bugle call echoed through the forest and the Vore turned towards the sound, then padded away swiftly. For some minutes the two men remained where they were, then Korrin made to climb down.

'Where are you going?'

The beast is gone.'

'There may be others further west. Let us wait awhile.'

'Good advice, my friend. How did you know the Vores were loose?'

The deer did not just run, they fled in panic. A man's smell would not do that, nor would a wolf. Since the wind was coming from behind and to the right of us, I reasoned the beasts must be close.'

'You are a canny man to have around, Prasamaccus. Perhaps our luck has changed.'

As if to evidence his words, a large Vore raced across the clearing before them, oblivious to their presence and leapt the corpses in a headlong rush towards the bugle call.

'You think it is safe now?' asked Korrin.

'A few more minutes.' Prasamaccus could feel sadness riding him. Korrin had not yet stopped to consider the full meaning of the attack, and the Brigante hesitated to voice his fears. If four Vores had been loosed, why not all of them? And if that were the case, what had befallen the brotherhood at the caves? 'I think it is safe now,' he said at last.

Korrin sprang to the ground and waited to aid the slower Prasamaccus.

'I owe you my life. I shall not forget it.'

He began to walk back towards the camp, but Prasamaccus' slender hand fell on his shoulder. 'A moment, Korrin.' The taller man swung towards him, his face paling as he saw the look of concern in Prasamaccus' eyes. Then realisation struck.

'No!' he screamed and tore himself from the Brigante's grip to race away through the trees. Prasamaccus notched an arrow and followed at his own halting pace. He did not hurry, having no wish to arrive too soon. When at last he did come in sight of the caves, his worst fears were realised. Bodies scattered the clearing and in his path was a leg dripping blood to the grass. It was a scene of carnage. In the cave-mouth knelt Korrin alongside the giant body of his brother. Prasamaccus approached. The man-beast lay beside the bodies of three Vores and his talons were red with their blood. Beyond Korrin, cowering in the darkness, were three children and Laitha. Part of his burden lifted as he saw that she was safe. Korrin was weeping openly, holding a blood-stained paw in his lap. The man-beast's eyes opened.

Prasamaccus touched Korrin's shoulder. 'He lives,' he whispered.

'Korrin?'

'I am here.'

'I stopped them, Korrin. The Witch Queen did me a service after all. She gave me the strength to stop her own hunting cats.' He took a deep shuddering breath and Prasamaccus watched as his life-blood continued to flow from the dreadful wounds.

'Four of the Seven are safe within the caves. Some of the men ran into the forest; I do not know if they survived. Get them away from here, Korrin.'

'1 will, brother. Rest. Be at peace.' The body shimmered as if in a heat haze, then shrank to that of a normal man, slender and fine-boned, the face handsome and gentle. 'Oh, sweet Gods,' whispered Korrin.

'Very touching,' came a woman's voice and Prasamaccus and Korrin turned. Sitting on a nearby rock was a golden-haired woman in a dress of spun silver that looped over one ivory-skinned shoulder.

Korrin lunged to his feet, dragging his sword clear. He ran at the woman, who lifted a hand and waved her fingers as if casually swatting a fly. Korrin flew from his feet to land against the rocks ten feet away.

'I said I would watch him die . . . and I have. Bring my women to the camp in the north. Perhaps then I will allow the rest of you to live.'

Prasamaccus laid down his bow, feeling her eyes upon him.

'Why do you not attempt to kill me?' she asked.

'To what purpose, lady? You are not here.'

'How perceptive of you.'

'It takes no great perception to see that you cast no shadow.'

'You are disrespectful,' she chided. 'Come to me.' Her hand pointed and Prasamaccus felt a pull at his chest, hauling him to his feet. He stumbled on his bad leg and heard her soft lilting, mocking laughter. 'A cripple? How delicious! I was going to play a game with you, little man - make you suffer as Pallin suffered. But I see there is no need. Fate has perhaps dealt with you more unkindly than I could. And yet, you should suffer some pain for your insolent glances.' Her eyes shone.

Prasamaccus was still holding the arrow he had notched earlier and as her hand came up once more he raised the arrow-head before him. A blaze of white light came from her fingers, touched the arrow and returned to smite her in the chest. She screamed and stood . . . and in that moment Prasamaccus saw the golden hair show silver at the temples. Her hand shot to her aging face and panic replaced the malevolent smile. She disappeared in an instant.

Korrin stumbled to the Brigante's side. 'What did you do?'

Prasamaccus looked down at the arrow; the shaft was black and useless, the head a misshapen lump of metal. He hurled it aside. 'We must get the women from here before the soldiers come, as surely they will. Is there another hiding place in the forest?'

'Where can we hide from her?'

'One step at a time, Korrin. Is there a place?'

'Perhaps.'

'Then let us gather what is useful and go.' As he spoke, five men emerged from the trees. Prasamaccus recognised the tall Hogun and the hulking Rhiall.

'So,' said the Brigante, 'the brotherhood still lives.'

*

Laitha strode from the cave to the body of a dead warrior and unbuckled the man's sword-belt. Swinging it round her lean hips she drew the blade, hefting it for weight. The hilt was long and tightly covered with dark leather, and she could grip it double-handed for the cut or sweep. Yet the blade was not so long or heavy that she was unable to use it one-handed. She found a suitable whetstone and began to hone the edge. Prasamaccus joined her.

'I am sorry you had to suffer such an ordeal.'

'I did riot suffer; Pallin kept the Vores from me. But the screams of the dying

'I know.'

'That woman radiated evil - and yet she was so lovely.'

'There is no mystery in that, Laitha. Pallin was a good man, yet sight of him would cause sleepless nights. All that is good is not always handsome.'

'I do not like to admit this, but she frightened me. All the way down to my bones. Before we left Culain I saw a Soul Stealer from the Void. Its face was the grey of death, yet it inspired less fear in me than the Witch Queen. How was it that you were able to speak so to her?'

'I do not follow you.'

'There was no fear in your voice.'

'It was in my heart, but all I saw was an evil woman. All she could do was kill me. Is that so terrible? In fifty years no one will remember my name. I will be merely the dust of history. If I am lucky, I will grow old and rot. If not, I will die young. Whatever, I will still die.'

'I never want to die - or grow old. I want to live for ever,' said Laitha. 'Just as Culain had the chance to do. I want to see the world in a hundred years, or a thousand. I never want the sun to shine without it shining on me.'

'I can see how that would be ... pleasant,' said the Brigante, 'but for myself I think I would rather not be immortal. If you are ready, we should be on our way.'

Laitha looked deeply into his sad blue eyes, not understanding his melancholy mood. She smiled, rose smoothly and pulled him to his feet. 'Your wife is a lucky woman.'

'In what way?'

'She has found a gentle man who is not weak. And yes, I am ready.'

The small group, joined by four other survivors, numbered nineteen people as they headed high into the hills at the centre of Mareen-sa. There were four pregnant women, three children and, counting Laitha, twelve warriors.

Due to the advanced stage of one of the pregnancies the pace was slow, and it was dusk when Korrin led them up a long hill to a circle of black stones each some thirty feet high. The circle was more than a hundred yards in diameter and several - now deserted - buildings had been constructed around the eight-foot altar. Korrin dragged open a rotted door and pushed his way into the largest building. Prasamaccus followed him. Inside was one vast room over eighty feet long. Ancient dust-covered tables were set at right-angles to the walls, with bench seats alongside.

Korrin made his way to a large hearth, where a fire had been neatly laid. A huge cobweb stretched from the logs to the chimney-breast. Korrin ignored it and sparked the tinder. Flames rose hungrily at the centre of the dead wood, and a warm red light bathed the central hall.

'What is this place?' asked Prasamaccus.

The Eagle sect once dwelt here - seventy men who sought to commune with the Ghosts.'

'What happened to them?'

'Astarte had them slain. Now no one comes here.'

'I cannot bring myself to blame them,' said the Brigante, listening to the wind howling across the hilltop. One of the women began to moan and sank to the floor. It was Erulda.

'The babe is due,' said Hogun. 'We'd best leave her to the women.' Korrin led the men outside to a smaller building where a dozen rotted cot-beds lined the walls. A rats' nest had been built against the far wall and the room stank of vermin. Once more a fire had been laid and Korrin ignited it.

Prasamaccus tested several beds, then gingerly laid himself down. There was no conversation and the Brigante found himself thinking of Thuro, and wondering if the Vores had killed him. He awoke an hour before dawn, half-convinced he had heard the sound of drums and marching feet. He stretched and sat up. Korrin and the other men were still sleeping around the dying fire. He swung his legs from the cot and stood, suppressing a groan as the weight came down on his twisted limb. Taking up his bow and quiver, he stepped out into the predawn light. The door of the main building opened and Laitha moved into sight. She smiled a greeting, then ran across to him. 'I have been waiting for you for a full hour.'