Dark Moon

Together they walked to the rear of the building. In an enclosed area, hidden by high walls yet brilliantly lit by moonlight, there stood a giant crossbow with arms over ten feet wide, built on a criss-crossed timber frame. On each side of the frame were handles, which when turned drew back the giant arms. Striding past the machine, Ozhobar hauled an old door of thick oak to the far wall, resting it there. Then he returned to the machine and, together with Karis, wound the handles until the rope and its sling of leather dropped over a large bronze hook. Locking it into place, Ozhobar filled the leather cup with iron pellets. Having checked the alignments, he walked around to where Karis stood. 'The door is oak, almost two inches thick.' With a boyish grin he handed her a small hammer. 'Strike the release bolt hard. Do it from behind.'

Karis moved to the rear of the machine and struck the bolt. There was a sudden hiss, then a sharp clanging as the arms swept forward to strike the wooden restraints. Almost immediately came a series of small thunderclaps as the iron shot smashed into the door.

Ozhobar ambled over to the ruined wood.

'Well?' he asked, as Karis joined him. The door was peppered with deep holes that in many places had completely pierced the wood; in the centre it was torn apart, ripped to tinder. Ozhobar grinned. 'You like it?'

'It is incredible! What kind of killing range?'

'Against the Daroth? Who can tell? Though I would guess at around fifty feet. After that the momentum will start to slacken. Fifty down to twenty-five would be the optimum.'

'Why not inside twenty-five feet?' she asked.

'Oh, it will still kill, but the spread will be small.' He pointed to the door. 'As you can see, at a range of only about fifteen feet the pellets struck in a rough circle of ... what? . . . around four feet. That equates with one Daroth. But at fifty feet the circle of death will be much greater.'

'How many ballistae will we have?'

'That depends on how long the Daroth wait. If we can get five more days I can have three by the northern gate, two others ready for swift transportation across the city.'

'We will, I believe, have a few days,' she said. Something in her voice caught his attention, and he stared intently at her.

'You . . . instituted the plan?'

'Yes. The scout has not returned.'

'This troubles you,' he said softly.

'Would it not trouble you? I have no qualms about sending soldiers to their deaths, but this time I had to lie, to deceive. He was a dull man, but I don't doubt he deserved better than to be betrayed by his general.'

'You chose him because he was a careless man. Therefore it could be argued that his own carelessness killed him.'

'Yes, I could argue that - but it wouldn't be true. I think it will buy us time, though not much. It won't be long before they capture another scout, or get someone close enough to our walls to read another mind.'

'Five days. That is all we need.'

Ozhobar covered the ballista with a tarpaulin and led Karis back to the warmth of the forge. 'Did you overcome the recoil problem on the catapult?' she asked him.

'Of course. I weighted the cross timbers. It is a little less manoeuvrable now, but still accurate.

Necklen has mastered the machine, and his crew operate well.'

'Let us hope so,' said Karis.

'Another biscuit?'

She smiled. 'No. I'd better be getting back. I still have work to do.'

A deep growl sounded from outside the main door and Karis strolled across to it. Outside, Stealer was baring his fangs at a huge figure.

'Call off the hound before I break its neck,' said Forin.

Karis bade Ozhobar good night, then stepped out into the night with Stealer padding alongside her, still keeping a wary eye on the man. 'What do you want?' she asked wearily.

'To talk,' said Forin.

'I have no time to talk.'

'No time or no desire?' he asked, pausing in his walk. She moved two paces ahead, then swung back to him.

'We shouldn't have made love,' she said. 'It was a mistake, and I cannot afford such mistakes. If it is any consolation to you, it was a wonderful night, and I will never forget it. But it will never be repeated. So stop following me around like a moonstruck idiot!'

She expected anger and his laughter surprised her. 'I am not moonstruck, Karis. I never was a great believer in love at first sight - or indeed at any sight. And, to be honest, I don't know what I feel for you. Had you stayed that night, and we had talked, there might have been no need for a meeting like this. But you didn't.

You ran. Why? Why did you run?'

'It is late, and I am too tired for this,' she said, turning away.

'Not afraid to die, but terrified to live. Is that it?' he asked her.

She whirled on him then. 'What is it with you men?' she sneered. 'Why can your egos never cope with rejection? I don't want you, I don't need you. You helped me to relax. That was your role and you did it well.'

He laughed again, the sound rich and unforced. 'Of course no man likes rejection. And I have known my share. What I find hard to understand is not that you reject me, Karis; it is that you are frightened of me.'

'Frightened? You arrogant pig! Nothing on this earth will ever frighten me again. My father saw to that.

Now get out of my sight!'

He gave a rueful smile and turned away. She heard his voice drift back across the moonlit street. 'I am not your father, Karis.'

Angrily she strode back to the palace and to her apartments, where Necklen was waiting. 'You have chosen the men?' she asked, stepping inside. Stealer had to leap aside as she slammed the door.

'Yes. A hundred stretcher-bearers, and sixty orderlies to assist with the wounded. You know there are only four surgeons left in the city?'

'I do now.'

'You want me to come back tomorrow, princess?'

'Don't call me that!' She slumped into a chair. 'Do you think I am frightened to live?' she asked the old man.

Necklen gave a wide grin. 'What do you want to hear?'

The truth would be pleasant.'

'I never met a woman yet who wanted to hear the truth. Are we talking about Vint, or the dog-ugly brute in the dung beetle armour?'

'You think he is ugly?' she asked, surprised.

'You think he is not?' countered Necklen. 'He has a nose that looks as if it has been kicked by a bull, and a broad flat face and small eyes. Green, if I recall. Never trust men with green eyes.'

'How did you know it might be him? Has he been speaking of me?'

'No, princess. But, if you want the truth, I learned it from you. Whenever he is close you cannot keep your eyes from him. Did he accuse you of being too frightened to live?'

'Yes. You agree with him?'

'How would I know?' asked Necklen. 'But you do surprise me, girl. You obviously want him, and I've never known you to be coy.'

'I slept with him once. Now he wants to own me,' she said. 'I won't be owned. I won't be used in the name of love.'

'Did Giriak use you?' he asked, softly.

'Of course he didn't. But then I didn't love him.'

'And you love Forin?'

'I didn't say that!' she snapped.

'I'm not sure what you are saying.'

Relaxing into her chair, Karis let out a long sigh. Then she chuckled. 'Neither am I. Pass me the jug, my dear old fool. It is time to get drunk!'

Just before dawn on the morning of the fourth day, Vint left his quarters in the palace and strolled the half-mile to the northern wall. A cold wind was blowing down from the mountains and he held his sheepskin cloak tightly around his slim frame. Passing the old barracks building, he saw three men hauling a hand-cart on which was set a metal drum, and the smell of hot onion soup drifted to him.

As he neared the gates he saw scores of workmen laying stone walls across the entrances to the alleyways leading off from the main avenue. Karis and Ozhobar were moving among them, checking the work. Vint walked past them, trying to control his feeling of irritation. Karis had not invited him to her bed in days. His annoyance surprised him. He was not in love with her, nor had he any wish to build a lasting relationship. What then? he wondered, as he climbed the rampart steps. The answer was not hard to find. He smiled ruefully. She is not in love with you either. It was a blow to the morale to be so casually discarded.