Stones of Power 02 - Last Sword of Power by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online

life-blood.
    Cormac ran back into the trees, following the other three. Agwaine and Lennox had disappeared from sight, but Barta was lumbering far behind them. Darting out behind him, Cormac tapped his shoulder and the blond youngster turned.
    Cormac's blade slid through the youth's woollen jerkin and up into the belly, ripping through lungs and heart. Savagely he twisted the sword to secure its release, then dragged it clear. Barta died without a sound.
    Moving like a wraith Cormac vanished into the shadow-haunted trees, seeking the last of the hunters.
    On the cliff-top Agwaine had found the butchered hounds. Turning, he ran back to warn his brother that Cormac was now armed; then he and Lennox retreated back along the trail, finding the other bodies.
    Together the survivors fled the woods. Cormac emerged from the trees to see them sprinting back into the valley.
    At first he thought to chase them to the Great Hall itself, but common sense prevailed and, his anger ebbing, he returned to the Cave. Grysstha had propped himself against the western wall; his white beard was stained with his blood, his face pale and grey.
    As Cormac knelt beside the old man, taking his hand, Grysstha's eyes opened.
    'I can see the Valkyrie, Cormac,' he whispered, 'but they ignore me, for I have no sword.'
    'Here,' said the boy, pushing the ivory hilt into the warrior's left hand.
    'Do not ... do not . . . tell anyone . . . about your birth.' Grysstha slid sideways to the ground, the sword slipping from his fingers.
    For a while Cormac sat in silence with the body of his only friend. Then he stood and wandered into the sunlight, staring down at the village far below.
    He wanted to scream his anger to the skies, but he did not. One of Grysstha's sayings sprang to his mind: Revenge is a better meal when served cold.
    Sheathing the sword in his belt, he gathered Grysstha's possessions and set off for the east. At the top of the last rise he turned once more.
    'I will return,' he said softly. 'And then you will see the Demon, I swear it!'

CHAPTER THREE
    Prasamaccus stretched out his legs before the log-fire in the grate and sipped the honeyed wine.
    His daughter, Adriana, offered a goblet to Ursus who accepted it with a dazzling smile.
    'Do not waste your charm,' said Prasamaccus. 'Adriana is betrothed to the herdsman's son, Gryll.'
    'Are they in love?'
    'Why ask me? Adriana is standing here.'
    'Of course. My apologies, my lady.'
    'You must forgive my father,' she said, her voice deep and husky. 'He forgets that the customs of his guests are rarely like his own. Are women still bought and sold by the Sicambrians?'
    'That is somewhat harsh. Dowries are paid to prospective husbands - but then that is still the case in Uthei's Britain, is it not? And a woman is servant to her husband. All religions agree on this.'
    'My father told Gryll there would be no dowry. And we will be wed at the Midwinter Feast.'
    'And are you in love?'
    'Yes, very much.'
    'But no dowry?'
    'I think Father will relent. He has too much money already. And now, if you will excuse me I am very tired.'
    Ursus stood and bowed as Adriana kissed Prasamaccus' bearded cheek and left the room.
    'She is a good girl, but she must think I'm growing senile! She will slip out through the yard and meet Gryll by the stables. How is your wine?'
    'A little sweet for my taste.'
    Prasamaccus leaned forward, tossing a log to the fire. 'Honey aids the mind and clears the stomach. It also wards off evil spirits.'
    Ursus chuckled. 'I thought that was bitter onions?'
    'Those too,' agreed the Brigante. 'And mistletoe, and black dogs with white noses.'
    'I think you have drunk a little too much wine, my friend.'
    'It is a fault of mine on lonely evenings. You know, I was with the King before he was the King -
    when he was a hunted boy in the mountains and he crossed the Valley of Death to another world. I was young then. I watched him become a man; I watched him fall in love and I watched his great heart