The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood Read Online Free Page A

Brother Utha.’
    ‘I didn’t kill the prince,’ Utha said candidly. ‘Though I can’t tell you what did.’
    Hobson shook his head. ‘No, brother, I wished to know why you of all people, a man renowned for his skill as a crusader, would consort with the risen.’
    The Black cleric stood and faced him. Though they were similar in height, Utha’s bulk, muscle and demeanour spoke of his calling as a warrior; a sharp contrast to the aura of serenity that surrounded Hobson. As the two clerics – Black and White – looked at each other, Randall thought he could see a ripple of divine power as their eyes met. The back of his neck tingled.
    Utha’s face was stone. ‘His name is Tyr Vasir. He is a Dokkalfar and no more an undead monster than you or I.’
    As if to illustrate the point, the forest-dweller stepped into the room. Vasir was close to seven feet tall, and slender. His skin was a dusty grey and his hair and eyes were both jet-black. The White cleric stared at him. Vasir let himself be studied, reacting with nothing more than a slight twitch of his shoulders.
    ‘I don’t expect you to listen any more than the Purple, brother, but at least you’ll have something to ponder once we’re gone.’
    Utha had repeatedly stated the futility of persuading other clerics that the Dokkalfar were merely a race of non-human beings, with culture, history and sophistication. Even Brother Torian, a Purple cleric that Utha and Randall had both admired greatly, was so influenced by the church’s propaganda as to be almost blind to the reality.
    ‘The Mandate of Severus has been church law for five hundred years,’ said Hobson, mildly.
    ‘It has never been a law of The One. It was a law of the Purple,’ replied Utha. ‘I don’t think The One gives a shit about non-humans. Cardinal Severus did, that’s all. And no-one questions it.’
    ‘Well, your friend certainly doesn’t seem... dangerous,’ Hobson said hesitantly.
    Utha laughed – the first good-natured sound he’d made in weeks. ‘Let’s not get carried away, brother, he is most definitely dangerous. But he doesn’t eat children or abduct women, if that’s what you mean.’
    Vasir tilted his head at Utha. The forest-dweller didn’t understand humour, but Randall thought he may have been aware that he was being teased.
    ‘I will have to report that I have encountered you, Brother Utha,’ said Hobson quietly.
    Utha nodded his head. ‘Would you give us the courtesy of a day’s head start?’
    ‘I’m sorry, no.’ The old cleric bowed his head.
    ‘I understand, brother.’
    For a second, Randall feared his master would seek to silence the healer, but Utha crossed to the door and motioned for Hobson to follow.
    ‘I would ask that you leave us now,’ the Black cleric said, ‘and I hope the One looks down on you with more kindness than he has shown me.’
    Hobson bowed his head and the two churchmen shared a moment of prayer before parting.
    ‘Brother,’ Utha said as Hobson exited, ‘at least walk slowly back to your chapel.’
    The White cleric smiled and nodded before turning his back on the three of them. Randall regretted intruding upon the old man’s life, but it was at least gratifying to meet another honourable cleric.
    ‘Well...’ said Utha. ‘We’re wanted by clerics, enchantresses and mercenaries. Apparently we killed Prince Christophe, and our odds of survival in Tor Funweir are slim.’ He screwed up his face. ‘I don’t fancy going to Ranen or Karesia, so I’d say our best option is to get lost in the Fell.’
    Vasir immediately began to gather up their belongings.
    ‘You’re keen,’ said Randall.
    ‘Indeed,’ responded the forest-dweller, ‘I am eager to assist the Shadow and will gladly give my life to see him safely to the woods of my people.’
    Utha stood angrily. ‘Stop fucking calling me the Shadow... I’m just a man.’ He was almost shouting.
    Vasir tilted his head and regarded the Black cleric before speaking.