Free Rigante Series 04 - Stormrider by David Gemmell

nothing.'
    Ermal added a thick log to the fire. 'Why did you hesitate?' he asked.
    Mulgrave was nonplussed. 'I don't know what you mean.'
    'Before you said men. Are they men?'
    'What else could they be?' answered Mulgrave, suddenly uncomfortable.
    Ermal opened his hands. 'It is a dream, Mulgrave. They could be anything. They could be fish on horseback.'
    Mulgrave chuckled. 'I see. You think then that this is some trick of the mind? That she is not real?'
    'I cannot say for certain. I once knew a man - Aran Powdermill. Strange little chap. Had two gold teeth in the front of his mouth. The man was crooked, a thief and a cheat who would do anything for money. Yet he could see events happening great distances away. He was also adept at finding lost items. He once located a child who had fallen down a forgotten well. He demanded two chaillings to find her. I also knew a woman who could commune with the dead. Truly remarkable talents they both possessed. Equally I once dreamed I was trapped inside a blackberry pie with a white bear. Absolutely nothing mystic there. I had eaten too much and fallen asleep on a bearskin rug. Some dreams are visions, some are merely the mind's fancies. You do not recall having met this woman?'
    'No.'
    'Do you recognize the mountains?'
    'Aye, I do. The Druagh mountains in the north.'
    'Perhaps you should travel there.'
    'I have been thinking of it.'
    'It might be best to wait until the spring. The war has displaced many citizens, and there are now said to be bands of thieves and cut-throats roaming the countryside.'
    'It will be little better in the spring, my friend. This war is a long way from being won or lost.'
    'I shall miss your company. So few of my parishioners play an adequate game of Shahmak.'
    Mulgrave laughed. 'I have only beaten you once, Master Standfast.'
    'Ah, but you have also drawn three games. It wounds my ego not to win.'
    A comfortable silence grew, as Mulgrave watched the flames dance among the coals. Then he sighed and returned his gaze to the priest. 'They are not men,' he said. 'Their faces are grey and scaled, and their eyes are floating in blood.'
    Ermal sat very quietly for a moment. 'Do they have circlets of iron upon their brows?'
    'Aye, they do,' answered Mulgrave, surprised.
    'Wait for a moment.' Ermal rose from his chair and walked through to his small study. He returned moments later with a slim silver chain. Hanging upon it was a small medallion, also silver, encased in a slender golden band. The medallion had been stamped on one side with the image of a tree. The reverse was embossed with a three-sided Keltoi rune. 'These were carried by the original Tree cultists back in the time of Stone. Each coin was blessed by the Veiled Lady, so it was said, and after her by Persis Albitane himself.' He placed the chain over Mulgrave's head, tucking the medallion inside his shirt. 'Wear it always, my boy.'
    'Thank you. Do I take it you no longer believe that the dreams are a trick of the mind?'
    Ermal spread his hands. 'I am not certain. The creatures you described are written of in the oldest scrolls. They were called the Dezhem Bek. Have you heard the name?'
    'No.'
    'It may be that you heard of them when you were a child in Shelsans, and the memory is what causes the dreams. I hope so.'
    'What are they?' asked Mulgrave.
    'I would imagine that depends on your perspective. To those who follow the Source of all Harmony the Dezhem Bek were men who had embraced the Shadow, given themselves over to evil in return for great powers. Some scrolls call them necromancers, others describe them as eaters of souls. In the old tongue Dezhem Bek means simply the Ravenous Ravens. Yet there are other books, written by those whose philosophies, shall we say, were at odds with the Source. In these the Dezhem Bek are described as achieving perfection of form, and strength beyond that of ordinary men. They were also said to be extremely long-lived.'
    Mulgrave laughed. 'Perfection of form? I think