'Gods, what a mess,' he heard someone say. Shastar glanced to his right to see Lord Aric, picking his way across the marble floor, careful to avoid the pools of blood and severed limbs. Shastar watched, as if in a dream. He could hardly believe this was happening. How could a cultured man like Aric have been responsible for such a massacre? He had known Aric for years. They had hunted together, discussed art and poetry. There had been no indication of the monster dwelling within him.

Shastar watched as the magicker walked around the hall, staring down at the bodies. He saw him reach the East Gallery stairs. Aric moved across to the body of Duke Elphons, dragging it from the ornate, high-backed chair. The lord of House Kilraith then tore the cape from the Duke's shoulders and wiped blood from the chair before sitting down and surveying the hall. Eldicar Manushan joined him. 'There is no sign of the Grey Man,' he said.

'What? He must be here.'

At that moment a shadow fell across Shastar. He looked up to see the black-garbed warrior who had killed the Duke looming over him. The man's features were Chiatze, though his eyes were golden. He leaned in close. Shastar saw that his pupils were elongated, like those of a cat.

'This one lives,' said the warrior. Reaching down he grabbed Shastar by the arm and hauled him to his feet. The strength in the man's grip surprised Shastar. The warrior was slim and not tall, yet the heavy-set lord of House Bakard was dragged upright in an instant.

'Well, well,' said Eldicar Manushan, striding forward, 'I never cease to be surprised by the vagaries of war.' He looked into Shastar's face. 'Have you any idea of the odds against surviving an attack by so many Kraloth? Millions to one.' Stepping in close he looked at the wounds on Shastar's back. 'Hardly a scratch, though the wounds will still be fatal if left untreated.'

'Why have you done this?' asked Shastar.

'I can assure you it wasn't for pleasure,' said Eldicar Manushan. 'I take no joy in such enterprises. But, you see, there are only two ways to deal with potential enemies: make them allies or kill them. I just did not have the time to make so many alliances. However, since you have so luckily escaped death, I feel obliged to give you the opportunity of serving my cause. I can heal your wounds, give you back your youth, and promise you centuries of life.'

'We don't need him!' shouted Aric.

'I say who we need, mortal,' hissed Eldicar Manushan. 'What say you, Lord Shastar?'

'If an alliance with you means joining forces with a worm like Aric I'll have to decline,' said Shastar.

'You really should reconsider,' said Eldicar gently. 'Death is terribly final.'

Shastar smiled – then lunged at the magicker. His right hand curled around Eldicar Manushan's dagger, dragging it from its sheath and ramming the blade into the magicker's chest. Eldicar Manushan staggered back, then righted himself. Taking hold of the hilt he slowly pulled the weapon clear. Blood dripped from the blade. Eldicar Manushan held the dagger out before him and released it. Instead of falling to the floor it hovered in the air. 'That really hurt,' he said, aggrieved. 'But I understand your anger. Rest in peace.'

The blade spun and swept into Shastar's chest, slipping between the ribs and plunging into his heart.

Shastar grunted then fell to his knees. He too tried to pull the dagger clear, but then pitched face first to the floor. 'Such a shame,' said the magicker. 'I liked the man. He had honour and courage. Now . . . where were we? Ah, yes, the Grey Man.' He glanced up at the East Gallery. 'Your men are taking rather a long time to complete a simple task, Aric.'

Lord Aric rose from the Duke's chair and ordered two of the guards to fetch Gaspir. Moments later one of the men called from the gallery, 'My lord, Gaspir and Valik are dead. There is no sign of the boy. They must have escaped to the gardens and the beach.'

'Find them!' roared Aric.

'Good advice,' muttered Eldicar Manushan. 'It would be greatly advisable to find him – before he finds you.'

Eldicar Manushan crouched down by the body of the dead Shastar and pulled his dagger clear, wiping the blade on the dead man's leggings. Sheathing the dagger, he noted that the hem of his shimmering robe was stained with blood. With a sigh he picked his way through the corpse-strewn hall and opened the stair door. Climbing to the gallery he found Beric still sitting on the bench. Taking the boy's hand he led him back through to their own suite of rooms.

'It is time for the communion,' said Beric.

'I know.'

Eldicar sat down on a wide couch, the boy beside him. The magicker, still holding the boy's hand, closed his eyes and tried to relax. Communion did not come easily, for first he had to mask his feelings. He had not wanted this massacre, believing it unnecessary. Most of the people present would not have been a threat to the plans of Kuan-Hador. He could have engineered it so that only the Duke and his closest allies were killed. He did not want such thoughts in his mind once communion was established. Deresh Karany did not tolerate criticism.

Eldicar concentrated on thoughts of his childhood, and the small sailboat his father had built for him on the lake. Good days, when the Talent was imprecise and unskilled, and he had dreamed of becoming a healer.

He felt the first sharp tug in his mind. It was most painful, as if the flesh of his brain was being teased by a talon.

'Not a great success, Eldicar Manushan,' came the voice of Deresh Karany.

'Nor yet a failure, Lord. The Duke and his allies are dead.'

'The Grey Man lives, as do the two sword-bearers.'

'I have sent eight Kriaz-nor to intercept the sword-bearers. Two squads, one led by Three-swords, the other by Striped-claw.'

'Commune with both squads. Tell them they have three days.'

'Yes, Lord.'

'And what of the traitor, Ustarte?'

'I believe her to be alive and hidden in the palace of the Grey Man. A troop of Lord Aric's soldiers are already on their way.'

'I would appreciate her being taken alive.'

'That is the instruction they have. I would be happier if more Kriaz-nor could be sent.'

'More will come when the gateway finally collapses. Until then you must use Anharat's creatures. Tell me, why did you offer the man Shastar his life?'

'He had courage.'

'He was a potential enemy. You have a soft heart, Eldicar. Do not allow it to interfere with the orders you have been given. We are great because we obey. We do not question.'

'I understand, Lord.'

'I hope that you do. I risked my reputation to speak up for you following the debacle at Parsha-noor. It would hurt me if you proved unworthy of my trust. When you have found the priestess commune again.'

'Yes, Lord.'

Eldicar groaned as the link was severed. 'Your nose is bleeding,' said Beric. Eldicar pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his robe, and dabbed at it. His head was pounding.

'You should lie down,' said Beric.

'I shall,' said Eldicar, pushing himself to his feet and walking through to his bedroom.

Lying back on the satin coverlet of his bed, his head upon the soft pillow, he thought of the debacle at Parsha-noor.

Eldicar had given the enemy an extra day to consider surrender. An extra day! They had refused, and Deresh Karany had arrived at the battlefield. He sent a First Level demon to rip out the heart of the enemy king, and a host of Kraloth to terrorize the city-dwellers. Oh, they had surrendered fast enough then, Eldicar recalled. When they finally opened the gates to their conquerors Deresh Karany ordered twenty-six thousand of the citizens – one in three of the city-dwellers – to be put to death. Another ten thousand had been shipped back to Kuan-Hador to be Joined.