Free Hero in the Shadows by David Gemmell Page A

here,” she said softly.
    Prial shivered. “You have seen him?”
    “There is a cloak spell around him. I cannot see him, but I can sense his power. He is close.”
    “Then we must flee while we have the opportunity.”
    “He does not yet know we are here, Prial. There is some power left in me. I also know how to cloak our presence.”
    He stepped forward, taking her gloved hand in his and raising it to his lips. “I know that, Ustarte. But you cannot stand against an
Ipsissimus
. If he has not found us, it is because he is not yet looking for us. When he does, he will kill us.” Prial began to tremble, and she felt his gloved fingers close tightly about her hand.
    She watched him closely and saw him take a deep, shuddering breath. “I am calm,” he told her. “Truly I am.” Then he pulled away from her, embarrassed by his show of weakness. “These clothes chafe me,” he complained. Opening his robe, he pushed it back from his shoulders. Ustarte moved behind him, scratching her fingers through the thick gray fur of his back and shoulders.
    His tawny eyes closed, and he grunted with pleasure, his terror subsiding.
    But it would return, she knew.
    Keeva was tense and more than a little angry as she reached the unusual buildings set aside for the Gray Man. She had, despite Norda’s directions, lost herself twice in the maze of corridors and stairs and had emerged on a lower level, only to see that the building she sought was one story above and to the right. Climbing a set of stone steps that cut through a rockery, she finally arrived at the entrance. She stood for a moment, surprised by what she saw. The Gray Man’s dwelling place was set back into the cliff, the stone facing roughly fashioned and blending with the natural rock around it. This made it virtually invisible from the bay side of the palace. It looked stark and unprepossessing, not the home of a rich man at all.
    Her disquiet grew. Keeva had told the Gray Man she would not be his mistress, but now, within a day, he had summoned her to his rooms. Keeva’s anger subsided, and she felt a sudden sadness. For a little while today she had allowed herself to believe she might be happy here. She liked Norda, and the other girls of the team had been friendly. They all spokehighly of old Omri, and the atmosphere among them had been full of good humor. Ah, well, she thought, best get it over with. Stepping forward, she tapped on the door.
    The Gray Man opened it. He was dressed in the same manner as when first she had seen him, dark leggings over riding boots and a shirt of thin, supple leather. He wore no rings or chains of gold, and his clothes boasted no brooches and no embroidery. He beckoned her inside. “Come through,” he said, swinging away from her and strolling into the main living area. It was a rectangular room with only two hide-covered chairs and an old rug. There were no shelves or cabinets, and the fireplace was bare of ornament. A pile of logs was set beside it, with a blackened iron poker. The Gray Man wandered through the room and out through a door at the rear. Keeva followed him, expecting to see a bedroom. Her anger began to rise once more.
    She crossed the doorway and paused, surprised. It was not a bedroom. The thirty-foot wall on the left was paneled with pine, and on it hung many weapons: longbows, crossbows, Chiatze war darts, swords, and knives of all descriptions, some small, others long and double-edged. The right-hand wall was set with six lanterns, their light casting flickering shadows over an array of wooden frames and curious apparatus. Targets had been placed around the room, some round, others crafted from straw, string, and old clothing into the forms of men.
    The Gray Man moved to a bench table, from which he took his crossbow. Loading it with two bolts, he carried it back to Keeva. Then he pointed at the round target some twenty feet away. “Direct two bolts into the center,” he told her.
    Keeva’s arm came up, her