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

slowly die. He was always a man of iron will. But now that is all he has left: the iron. The heart is dead.' 'His wife, you mean?'
    'The lovely Laitha. Gian Avur, Fawn of the Forest.'
    'I understand the Song is forbidden here. I suppose it is understandable; a king cuckolded by a relative, betrayed by a friend.'
    "There was more to it than that, Ursus. Far more. There always is. Culain lach Feragh was a warrior without peer, and a man of great honour. But his weakness was that he lived without love.
    Laitha was raised by him and she had loved him since a child, but they were doomed.'
    'You speak as if man has no choices.'
    'Sometimes he does not. Culain would have died before hurting Uther or Gian, but the King knew that his wife had always loved Culain and evil thoughts grew in him like a dry grass fire. He was always on some mission of war and he took to living with the army. He rarely spoke to Gian and appointed Culain as her champion. He forced them together, and finally they gave in to their desires.'
    'How did he find out?'
    'It was an open secret and the lovers grew careless. They would be seen touching hands, walking arm-in-arm in the gardens. And Culain often visited the Queen's apartments late in the night, emerging at dawn. One night the King's Guards burst into the Queen's bedchamber and Culain was there. They were dragged before the King, who sentenced them both to death. But Culain escaped, three days later he attacked the party taking the Queen to the scaffold and they got away.'
    'But that is not the end of the story?'
    'No. Would that it were.' Prasamaccus lapsed into silence, his head tipping back to rest on the high back of the chair. The goblet slipped from his fingers to the rug and Ursus scooped it up before the wine could stain the goatskin. Then the prince smiled and stood. There was a blanket draped across a stool by the bedroom door. He took it and covered Prasamaccus, then entered his own room.
    Adriana smiled and pulled back the blankets. Slipping from his clothes he joined her, stroking the golden hair back from her face.
    Her arm circled his neck, drawing him down.
    Ursus washed in the barrel of cold water at the back of the lodge, enjoying the crispness of the dawn air on his naked skin. His sleep had been untroubled by dreams and the future was filled with the promise of gold. If the King of Legend adopted his horse-armour, all other fighting monarchs would follow and Ursus would retire to a palace in the Great River Valley with a score of concubines.
    At twenty, Ursus had his future clearly mapped out. Although of the House of Merovee, he and Balan were but distant relatives of Meroveus and had no claim to the crown of the Long-Haired Kings. And the life of a soldier offered no delights to a man who had spent his youth in the pleasure palaces of Tingis.
    He scrubbed himself dry with a soft woollen towel and donned a fresh black shirt under his oiled jerkin. From a small leather flask he poured a few drops of perfume to his palm, which he spread through his long dark hair. The stink of the stables was galling and he wandered to the open fields, enjoying the scent of the wild roses growing by the ancient circle of standing stones.
    Prasamaccus joined him. The older man seemed nervous.
    'What is wrong, my friend?' asked Ursus, sitting on the flat-topped altar stone.
    'I drank like an old fool and now there is a hammer inside my head.'
    'Too much honey,' said Ursus, trying not to smile.
    'And too loose a tongue. I should not have spoken so about the King and his business.'
    'Put your fears at rest, Prasamaccus; I cannot remember any of it. The wine went straight to my head also. As far as I recall, you spoke of Lord Uther as the finest king in Christendom.'
    Prasamaccus grinned. 'Which he is. Thank you, Ursus.'
    Ursus said nothing. He was staring at the ragged line of armed men cresting the far hills. 'I do hope they are ours,' he whispered. Prasamaccus shielded his eyes, then swore. Pushing