Niallad called out. 'For what it is worth, Grey Man, I do forgive you. And I thank you for all you have done for me.'

Ustarte raised her hands. The air shimmered before her. Then she stepped from sight, Waylander and Keeva disappearing with her.

Chapter Sixteen

The massive nave of the temple was thronged with people; mothers holding fast to their children, husbands staying close to their loved ones. Hundreds of the citizens of Carlis had taken refuge here, workers, merchants, tanners and clerics all huddled together. A few soldiers were with them, men who had been ordered to watch for the renegade priest Chardyn.

Priests moved among the crowds, offering blessings, leading prayers.

The corpse of an elderly man lay by one of the walls, the face covered by a cloak. His heart had failed. The body was a reminder of the perils that awaited them outside. Fear was almost palpable, and conversations were held in hushed whispers. The topic was the same everywhere. Would the hallowed walls keep out the demons? Were they safe within this holy place?

A white-robed figure moved into sight, climbing the steps to the high altar. A cry went up from the crowd as they recognized Chardyn. People began to cheer. Relief swept through the crowd.

Chardyn stood in full sight of them all and spread his arms. 'My children!' he bellowed. Several soldiers moved forward. Chardyn looked down at them. 'Stand where you are!' he thundered. Such was the power in his voice that the soldiers stopped, and glanced at one another. The crowd would tear to pieces any who tried to harm the priest. The soldiers relaxed.

'The Duke is dead," said Chardyn, transferring his gaze to the crowd. 'He was slain by sorcery. And now demons stalk the land. You know this. You know that a magicker summoned Hell-hounds to kill and to maim. That is why you are here. But let me ask you this: do you think these walls might protect you? These walls were built by men.' He fell silent, his eyes scanning the silent congregation. Then he pointed at a large man standing at the centre of the throng. 'I see you, Benae Tarlin! You and your team constructed the south wall. What power do you possess that will hold back demons? What magic did you invest in these stones? What ward-spells did you cast?' He waited for an answer. The crowd swung to stare at the hulking man, who reddened and said nothing. 'The answer is none!' roared Chardyn. 'They are merely walls of stone. Cold, lifeless stone. And so, you might ask, where is the sanctuary against the evil that is outside? Where can we hide to be safe?' He paused and allowed the silence to grow.

'Where is anyone safe from evil?' he said at last. 'The answer is nowhere. You cannot run from evil. It will find you. You cannot hide from evil. It will burrow down to the deepest place in your heart and it will discover you.'

'And what of the Source?' shouted a man. 'Why does He not protect us?'

'Aye, what of the Source?' responded Chardyn. 'Where is He in our hour of need? Well, He is here, my friends. He is ready. He waits with a shield of thunder and a spear of lightning. He waits.'

'What is he waiting for?' came another shout, this time from the stone-mason Chardyn had picked out earlier.

'He is waiting for you, Benae Tarlin,' answered Chardyn. 'He is waiting for you, and he is waiting for me. At the palace of the Grey Man there is a magicker, a man who summons demons. He has bewitched the lords Aric and Panagyn, and arranged the massacre of many of our leading citizens. He now rules Carlis, and soon, perhaps, all of Kydor. One man. One vile and evil man. One man who believes that the murder of a group of nobles will cow and terrorize an entire population. Is he right? Of course he is. Here we are, cowering behind walls of stone. And the Source waits. He waits to see if we have the courage to believe. If we have the faith to act. Every week we assemble here and we sing songs of the Source, of His greatness and His power. Do we believe them? We do when times are good. You listen to sermons about the heroes of the Source, of the Abbot Dardalion and the Thirty, his warrior priests. My, but they make great listening, do they not? A few men who, with courage and faith, set themselves against a terrible enemy. Did they cower behind walls and ask the Source to fight for them? No, for the Source was within them. The Source fed their courage, their spirit, their strength. That same Source is within us, my friends.'

'Well, I don't feel it!' called Benae Tarlin.

'Nor can you while you hide,' Chardyn told him. 'Your son slipped down that cliff last year, and you climbed down to the ledge to rescue him. He clung to your back and you felt you did not have the strength to carry him clear. We have talked of this, Benae. You prayed for the strength to bring your son to safety. And you did so. Did you sit upon that cliff and call out for the Source to raise your boy on a magical cloud? No. You set off in faith and your faith was rewarded.

'I tell you now that the Source waits. He waits with power greater than any magicker. You want to see that power – then walk with me to the palace of the Grey Man. We will find the magicker. And we will destroy him.'

'If we march with you,' asked another man, 'do you promise the Source will be with us?'

'With us and within us,' said Chardyn. 'I pledge it upon my life.'

Three-swords was standing by the window, looking out over the bay, when he caught what seemed to be a flash of light on one of the lower terraces. He stepped out on to the balcony and peered at the area below. Two human guards were walking down the steps. They were heading in the direction from which the light came. Three-swords relaxed and went back into the library.

Iron-arm was stretched out on a long bench. Stone-four and Long-stride were sitting at the base of the stairs. There had been no screams from the upper chamber for some time. Three-swords did not like the sound of screams, especially from young females. He had little stomach for cruelty. In battle you fought an enemy and killed it. You did not set out to make it suffer. Iron-arm strolled across to join him. 'The magicker is on his way back,' said Iron-arm. Three-swords nodded. He had not yet scented the man, but Iron-arm was never wrong. Then Three-swords caught the scent. It was faintly acrid, the scent of fear.

The black-bearded magicker came up the stairs and stopped. He stared at the circular steps leading to the upper chamber. Then he moved to a seat and slumped down, rubbing his eyes. 'All is quiet out there,' he said to Three-swords.

The warrior knew he was merely making conversation in a bid to delay his return to Deresh Karany. 'So far,' said Three-swords.

Iron-arm rose suddenly and strode to the window.

'Blood,' he said, opening his mouth and drawing in a hiss of air over his tongue. 'Human blood.' Three-swords and Long-stride joined him instantly.

Three-swords closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Yes. He could just taste it on the air. He turned to Eldicar Manushan. 'At least one man is bleeding heavily.'

'Two,' said Iron-arm. 'And there is something else.' His broad nostrils flared. 'It is very faint. But. . . yes . . . big cat. Lion, maybe. No. Not a lion – a meld.'

'Ustarte!' whispered Eldicar Manushan. He backed away from the window, then swung to Stone-four and Long-stride. 'Get out there. Find her. Kill anyone with her.'

'It might be better to stay together,' said Three-swords.

'This Waylander must not reach the tower,' said Eldicar Manushan. 'Do as I say.'

'Move warily,' Three-swords told Long-stride and Stone-four. 'This human is a hunter and a canny fighter. He uses a crossbow that shoots two bolts.'