The Riaj-nor did not answer. A breeze blew across the ruins. Song Xiu's body shivered and turned to dust.

Kysumu sat for a while, lost in thoughts and bittersweet memories. Then he took his sword and dug out a grave for Yu Yu Liang. He covered it with stones, then sheathed his weapon and walked away from the ruins of Kuan-Hador.

Waylander gathered up his crossbow, and his knives, and moved down the stairs to the lower library. Keeva was sitting there, but there was no sign of the two warriors.

'They left,' said Keeva, rising and putting her arms around the Grey Man. 'How are you feeling?'

'Like death,' he told her, with a wry grin.

'I heard the. . . demon,' she said. 'I have never been more terrified. Not even when Camran took me from the village.'

'That seems a long time ago now,' he replied. Taking her hand Waylander made his way down to the terrace steps where he found Ustarte waiting.

'The gateway is closed,' she told him. 'Yu Yu Liang died to seal it. Kysumu survived.'

Waylander glanced around him, seeking the body of Eldicar Manushan. 'He is dead,' said Ustarte.

'Truly dead?' queried Waylander. 'I would have thought the fall would have killed him.'

'He had some regenerative powers. They could not withstand being struck by a bolt of lightning.'

'So it is over,' said Waylander wearily. 'That is good. Where is Matze?'

'He is still tied in the cellar. Keeva can release him. You and I have to go to the stables.'

'Why there?'

'I have one last gift for you, my friend.'

Waylander smiled. 'I can feel death approaching, Ustarte. My blood is flowing sluggishly and your spell is wearing off. I do not think this is a time for gifts.'

'Trust me, Grey Man.'

Taking his arm she led him back into the palace.

Keeva ran down to the cellar to free Matze Chai. The old man was naked and tied to a chair. He looked up as she entered, and stared at her quizzically.

'I am here to free you,' she told him. 'The Grey Man has killed the sorcerer.'

'Of course he has,' said Matze. 'And what, pray, possessed you to come to me without bearing any clothing for me to wear? Does a little peril make people lose all sense of good manners? Untie me, then go to my rooms and fetch a suitable robe and some soft shoes.'

Keeva shook her head and smiled. 'My apologies, Lord,' she said, with a bow. 'Is there anything else you require?'

Matze nodded, 'If any of my servants have survived you can tell them to prepare a sweet tisane.'

The dawn was breaking as Keeva made her way to the stables. She found Ustarte sitting on a stone bench under a willow tree. The two Kriaz-nor warriors were beside her. There was no sign of the Grey Man. 'Where is he?' she asked.

'He is gone, Keeva. I opened a portal for him.'

'Where did you send him?'

'Where he always wanted to be.'

Keeva sat down. A great sadness settled upon her. 'It is hard to believe,' she said, 'that there is no Grey Man. He seemed somehow . . . immortal, unbeatable.'

'And he is, my dear,' Ustarte told her. 'He is only gone from this world. Waylander will never truly die. Men like him are eternal. Somewhere, even as we speak, there is another Grey Man, preparing to face his destiny.' Keeva glanced at the two warriors, then back at the priestess. 'And what of you? Where will you go?'

'We do not belong here, Keeva. Now that I am no longer using most of my power to thwart Deresh Karany I have enough energy to take us home.'

'You will go back to the land of Deresh Karany?'

'The fight is over for you – but not for me. I cannot rest while the evil that spawned Deresh Karany still thrives.' Keeva turned to the warriors. 'And you will help her?'

'I think that we will,' said Three-swords.

Epilogue

Using a stiff broom Tanya swept the dust from the hard-packed clay floor. As much rose around her as was pushed out through the door. Dakeyras had carved designs in the clay, and around the hearth he had created a mosaic with coloured stones from the streambed. Last year's crop had barely supplied them with enough coin to last the year, but Dakeyras had promised that with the first profits from the farm a real floor would be laid.

Tanya was looking forward to such a time, though, as she gazed upon the mosaic, she felt a stab of anticipated regret. She had been pregnant with the twins when Dakeyras had returned from the stream with the sack of stones. Six-year-old Gellan had been with him, full of excitement. 'I found all the red stones, Mama. I picked them all,' he said. 'Isn't that right, Father?'

'You did well, Gil,' said Dakeyras.

'You also soaked your new leggings,' Tanya told the boy.

'You can't take stones from a streambed without getting wet,' said Dakeyras.

'That's right, Mama. And it was fun getting wet. I almost caught a fish with my hands.' Tanya gazed into the boy's bright-blue eyes. He grinned at her and her heart melted. 'All right,' she said, 'you are forgiven. But why do we need a sack of stones?'

For the next two days Dakeyras and Gellan had worked on the rectangular mosaic. Tanya remembered it fondly; the laughter and the joy, Gellan squealing with delight, Dakeyras, his face smeared with clay, tickling him. And when they had finished she recalled them stripping off their clothing and having a race to the stream, which Dakeyras let the boy win. Those were good days.

Tanya put down her broom and stood in the doorway. Gellan was out in the meadow with his wooden sword, the twins were asleep in their crib and Dakeyras had gone out hunting for venison. The day was quiet, the sun bright in a sky dotted with puffballs of white cloud. They looked like sheep grazing on a field of blue, she thought.

It would be good to have venison. Supplies were low, and though the town storekeeper extended them credit Tanya was loath to fall further into debt.

People had been kind. But, then, Dakeyras was a popular man. Everyone remembered him as the officer whose prompt action had saved the community from the Sathuli raid. He had fought with distinction, and he, and his friend Gellan – after whom they had named their son – had been awarded medals. Gellan had remained with the army. Tanya often wondered whether Dakeyras regretted becoming a farmer.

His commanding officer had come to see Tanya the day after Dakeyras said he wanted to resign his commission, telling her that he felt her husband was making a grave mistake. 'He is that rarest of animals, a natural fighting man but also a thinker. The men revere him. He could go far, Tanya.'

'I did not ask him to leave the service, sir,' she said. 'It was his own decision.'

'That is a shame,' he told her. 'I had hoped it was your idea, and that I could persuade you to change your mind.'

'I would be happy with him whether he was a soldier, a farmer, a baker. . . But he told me that he had to leave the service.'

'Did he say why? Was he unhappy?'

'No, sir. He was too happy.'

'I don't understand.'

'I can say no more. It would not be right.'

He had still been confused when he left. How could Tanya have told him what Dakeyras confided to her? The fighting and the killing, which dismayed most men, had begun to fill Dakeyras with a savage delight. 'If I stay,' he said, 'I will become someone I do not want to be.' In the end his commanding officer had convinced Dakeyras to take a year's sabbatical, while still holding his commission. That year was almost up.

Tanya walked out into the sunshine and untied the ribbon that held her long blond hair in place. Shaking out the dust, she moved to the well, and slowly drew up a bucket. Reaching out, she dragged it over until it rested on the stone wall. She drank deeply, then splashed water to her face.