Dark Moon

'Where is the boy?' demanded Tarantio.

'First you must pass me,' said the demonic warrior.

In his mind Tarantio sought out Dace, but he was not to be found. Fear rose in him, followed by a quaking certainty that he was looking into the face of death. His mouth was dry, his sword hand wet with sweat. 'Help me!' cried the boy. Tarantio took a deep breath and threw himself into the attack.

The demon lowered his sword and offered his neck to Tarantio's blade. At the last moment he swung the blow aside.

'Why do you want me to kill you?' he asked.

'Why do you want to kill me?' the demon responded.

'I just want to help the boy.'

'To do so you must kill me,' said the demon, sadly.

Tarantio awoke in a cold sweat. Rising from his bed, he wandered out to the kitchen and filled a long goblet with cool water. In the main room Forin was asleep on a couch; the others had gone. Tarantio entered the room, moving silently to the fire. It was dying down and he added a fresh log.

'You can't sleep?' enquired Forin, yawning and sitting up.

'No. Bad dreams.'

'The Daroth?'

'Worse than the Daroth. I've had the same dream for several years now.' He told Forin about it.

'Why didn't you kill it?' Forin asked.

'I don't know.'

'Silly things, dreams,' said the giant. 'I once dreamt I was standing naked in a marketplace, where all the stalls were selling honey-cakes riddled with maggots. Everyone was buying them and extolling their virtues. No sense at all.'

Tarantio shook his head. 'Not necessarily. You are a man of iron principles. Most are not. You know the values of loyalty and friendship, where others see only the price to be paid for such comradeship.

Merchants, town dwellers, farmers - all despise warriors. They see us as violent and deadly, and indeed we are. What we come to learn, however, is that life is often short and always unpredictable. We fight for gold, but we know that true friendship is worth more than gold, and that comradeship is above price.'

Forin sat silently for a moment, then he grinned. 'What has this to do with nakedness and maggoty cakes?'

'You do not value what they value. You would not buy what they buy. As to the nakedness, you have thrown off all that they are.'

'I like that,' said Forin. 'I like that a lot. What then does your dream mean?'

'It is a search for something that is lost to me.' Tarantio felt uncomfortable discussing it further, and changed the subject. 'I saw you and your men in that armour today. I see what you mean.'

'Ludicrous, isn't it?' agreed Forin, with a wide grin. 'But it works well. Especially the arm-plates; they are all individually hinged, allowing almost full movement. Incredible! I think I could take a Daroth wearing it.'

'You should be able to catch him unawares as he falls over laughing,' said Tarantio.

'Is there any wine left?' asked the giant, moving out to the kitchen without waiting for an answer. He came back with a jug and two goblets.

'Not for me,' said Tarantio. 'Drinking that will only give me more dreams.'

Forin filled a goblet and drained it in a single swallow. Wiping his beard with the back of his hand, he leaned back on the couch. 'What do you think of Vint?' he asked.

'In what way?'

'I was just wondering. He seems very .. . close with Karis.'

They are lovers, I should imagine.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Common knowledge. Karis always has a lover somewhere; she's that sort of woman.'

'What sort . . . exactly?' said Forin coldly, his green eyes narrowing.

The swordsman saw the anger there. 'Is there something here that I don't understand?' he countered.

'Not at all,' answered Forin, forcing a smile. 'As I said, I was just wondering.'

'Karis is an unusual woman, that's what I meant. Whenever I've served with her, she's had a different lover.

Sometimes more than one. But it does not affect her talents. She never seems to fall in love with any of them.'

'How many has she had?'

'Gods, man, how would I know? But Vint was one of them. Now he is again.'

Forin drained another goblet. 'I wish I'd never met her,' he said, with feeling.

Tarantio remained silent for a moment. 'When did you meet her?' he asked softly.

Forin glanced up. 'Is it that damned obvious?'

'What happened?'

This time Forin did not bother with the goblet but raised the jug to his lips, tilting it high until all the wine was gone. 'She came to me one night, asking questions about the Daroth. Then we... well, you know.

Something happened to me; she got into my blood somehow. Can't stop thinking of her.'

'Have you talked to her about it?'

'To say what? She avoids me, Chio, unless she is already in company. Why would she do that?'

'I'm the wrong man to ask. I have never understood women.'

'Have you ever been in love?' asked Forin.

'Yes,' said Tarantio, surprising himself.

'Well, I haven't. I don't even know if this is love. Maybe if I slept with her again, it would all fall into place and I'd be able to smile and say goodbye, and she'd vanish from my mind.'

'Ask him if she was good in bed,' suggested Dace.

'Maybe that is her problem too,' said Tarantio. 'Maybe she feels something strongly for you. I don't think she wants to fall in love, and usually picks men merely to satisfy a need - a physical need.'

'I've never known a night like it. Maybe never will again,' said Forin. He gave a long sigh. 'If this is love, I don't think I like it.' He lay back on the couch, and within minutes was snoring softly.

'What is wrong with you?' asked Dace. 'You could have asked for details.'

'Do you dream, Dace?'

'I've told you before that I don't.'

'I know. I believe it to be a lie. Why would you lie to me?'

'That is a premise built on a foundation of feathers.'

Tarantio returned to his bed and lay down, drawing the blankets over him. As he drifted into sleep he heard Dace whisper, 'Thank you, brother.'

'For what?' asked Tarantio sleepily.

'For not killing us.'

As the thaw continued, a sense of urgency surrounded all aspects of city life. Karis and Ozhobar met often, planning late into the night, testing new weapons in secret so that no knowledge of their purpose could leak out to the troops manning the walls. Vint led scouting missions to the north, watching for signs of the approach of the Daroth. Forin drilled his fifty soldiers constantly; always in full armour, until the heavy plate felt like a second skin. The Duke, Pooris and the other bureaucrats worked ceaselessly to prepare for the evacuation.

At last the day arrived - four days later than planned. Thousands of citizens assembled in the fields to the south of the city while the veteran officer, Capel, in charge of the exodus, tried to assemble the wagons into a convoy. There was a sense of joy about the proceedings, and safety beckoned for the refugees. Shira and Duvodas, having said farewell to the tearful Ceofrin, were in the last wagon to leave. They sat together on the driver's seat, waiting their turn. Duvo's hand absently strayed to the canvas pouch he wore, his fingers tracing the outline of the Pearl. I will bring you back, he promised silently, recalling the frozen figures in the silent city.