'You must have cared for him,' said Tarantio softly.
'He looked after me,' said Brune. 'And my dad always said dead men should go back to the earth. That's how plagues start, he said - when bodies are left to rot in the air.'
'I suppose there is some good in all men,' said Tarantio.
'He looked after me,' repeated Brune. 'I didn't have nowhere to go. He let me ride with him.' He continued to fill the grave, pressing the earth down with his hands. When he had finished he stood and slapped his hands together, trying to dislodge the mud clinging to his fingers.
'You should hate me then, for killing him,' suggested Tarantio.
'I don't hate nobody,' said Brune. 'Never have. Never will, I 'spect.' For a moment he stood staring down at the grave. 'When people in the village died, there was someone
to speak for them. Lots of pretty things were said. I don't remember them. Does it matter, do you think?'
'To whom?' asked Tarantio, mystified. 'You think Latais will hear them?'
'I don't know,' admitted Brune. 'I just wish I knew some of the pretty words. Do you know any?'
'None that would suit this occasion. Why not just say what's in your heart?'
Brune nodded. Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes. 'Thanks, Lat, for all you done for me,' he said. 'I'm sorry I couldn't do what you asked, but they hit me with a lump of wood.'
'Touching and poetic,' said Dace. 'It certainly brought a lump to my throat.'
Despite the jeering tone, Tarantio sensed an undercurrent of emotion in Dace. He thought about it for a moment, but could find no reason. Then Dace spoke again. 'Are we taking the idiot with us?' The question was asked too casually.
'By Heaven, Dace. Have you found someone you like?'
'He amuses me. When he ceases to do so, I will kill him,' said Dace. Tarantio heard the lie in his voice, but said nothing.
Suddenly all the birds in the trees took flight, the leaves thrashing under their beating wings. Tarantio felt a quivering sensation under his feet. Forin stumbled into the small clearing. 'I think we should saddle up and move out,' he said. 'I'm getting a bad feeling. Maybe there's a storm coming.'
The horses were skittish, and Tarantio needed Brune's help to saddle the gelding, who tried to buck each time the saddle was placed upon his back.
'What in Hell's name is happening?' asked Forin. 'Nothing feels right.'
The earthquake struck as Tarantio, Forin and Brune moved out onto the plain. The ground vibrating beneath them caused the horses to panic and rear. Brune, who was leading the three spare mounts, was unseated and fell heavily, his horse and the others bolting. A section of hillside close by sheared away and a huge crack, hundreds of paces long, opened up in the earth ahead of them, swallowing the fleeing animals.
As suddenly as the crack had appeared, it closed, sending up a shower of dust and earth. Tarantio leapt from the saddle, holding firm to the bridle. 'Easy, boy! Easy!' he said soothingly, stroking the beast's flanks.
Forin's horse fell as the ground heaved. The big man rolled clear, then scrambled up and caught hold of the reins.
The tremors continued for several minutes, then died away. Dust hung in the air in great clouds. Tarantio hobbled his mount and ran to the fallen Brune as the young man sat up, blinking rapidly. 'Are you hurt?' asked Tarantio.
'Hit my head again,' said Brune. 'Made it bleed.'
'Luckily your head is the thickest part of you,' observed Forin. 'You lost the horses, you dolt!'
'He could have done nothing to save them,' put in Tarantio. 'And if we had ridden a few yards further we would have all been sucked into the abyss.'
'Have you ever heard of such a thing in Corduin lands?' asked Forin. 'For I have not. Down by Loretheli the earth moves. But not up here.'
Tarantio stared down at his hands; they were trembling. 'I think we all need to rest for a while. The horses are too skittish to ride.' Unhobbling the gelding, he led him towards the ruined hill. Above and to the left of the sheared mound was a stand of trees. Tethering the two horses, Tarantio and Forin sat down while Brune wandered away to empty his bursting bladder.
'I think my heart is beginning to settle down,' said Forin. 'I haven't been that scared since my wife - may she rest in peace - caught me with her sister.'
'I have never been that scared,' admitted Tarantio. 'I thought the earth was shaking apart. What causes it?'
Forin shrugged. 'My father used to talk of the giant, Premithon. The gods chained him at the centre of the earth, and every once in a while he wakes and struggles to be free. Then the mountains tremble and the earth shakes.'
'That sounds altogether reasonable,' said Tarantio, forcing a smile.
Brune came running up the hill. 'Come see what I've found,' he shouted. 'Come see!' Turning round he ambled down the ruined hill. Tarantio and Forin followed him to where the hillside had been cut in half, exposing two marble pillars and a cracked lintel stone.
'It is an ancient tomb,' said Forin, scrambling up over the mud which half-covered the entrance. 'Maybe there's gold to be found.' Tarantio and Brune followed him, sliding over the mud and into the entrance. All three men halted before a huge statue, which stood guard over a broken stone doorway.
The sunlight shone down on the marble of the statue and Tarantio stood staring at the carving, trying to make sense of it. The statue stood almost seven feet high. On its left arm was a triangular shield, in its right hand a serrated sword. But Tarantio's attention was not taken by the armour but by the face, which was not human. The bony ridge of its curved nose extended up and over the bald cranium, curving down the thick neck to disappear beneath the sculpted armour. The creature's
eyes were large, protruding, and slanted up towards the thick temples. The mouth was lipless and open, showing pointed teeth behind a ridge of sharp bone, like the beak of a hunting bird . . .
'It is a demon,' said Brune fearfully.
'No,' said Forin. 'It is a Daroth. My father described them perfectly. Six-fingered hands, and eyes that can see in a two-hundred-degree semi-circle. The neck is heavily ridged with bone and sinew. It does not articulate like the human neck, therefore the Daroth needed better all-round vision.'
'You mentioned them back in the cave,' said Tarantio. 'I have heard of them. But they are just myths, surely?'
'No, not myths. They existed before man came to this land. They were great enemies of the Eldarin, who destroyed them utterly. They came from the Northern Desert. Have you ever travelled there?'
'No.'
'Barely an ounce of soil over twenty thousand square miles. According to the legend, the Eldarin used great magic to annihilate the seven cities of the Daroth. Fire from the sky, and all that. The same magic that later destroyed the Eldarin themselves, searing the earth away.'
'They look very fierce,' said Brune.
'They were all mighty warriors,' Forin continued. 'They had two hearts and two sets of lungs. The bones of their chest and backs were twice as thick as ours, and no sword, nor arrow, could pierce their vital organs. A heavy spear could injure them, but it would need a strong man to plunge it home.' He paused and looked up at the cruel, beaked face. 'Hell's teeth, would you want to fight anything that ugly?' he asked Tarantio.
'I would,' said Dace.
'I dread to think what the females looked like,' said Tarantio to Forin.
'From what my father said, this could be one of the females. There was little difference between them; they bred like insects and reptiles, laying eggs, or pods. There was no physical union between mating pairs - and little apparent physical difference between the sexes.'