The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist

was touching the walls as she had the throne. Softly she whispered, ‘Do you feel it?’

      He placed his hand upon the wall and felt only cold, lifeless stone. ‘Feel what, Child?’

      ‘Here there was once a portal, open from the other side, and here Maarg found entry into a higher realm.’ She turned and looked at her companion. ‘This is why Dahun warred with Maarg, even though it was in vain. For when Dahun breached this city, he found it led to a lifeless planet, for Maarg had devoured all life there when finding himself trapped there, with no means of returning. In the end he withered to nothing and died without returning to the spawning pits. It happened a long time ago.’ Her voice dropped almost to a whisper.

      Almost afraid to ask, he said, ‘How do you know, Child?’

      She pressed her cheek against the stone. Moisture glistened in her eyes for a moment, then she closed them. ‘I know,’ was all she said.

      From the city they moved farther east, into the borders of the realms of the Mad Ones. In the month since they had left Child had recruited another score of followers, and these she nurtured as if they were her children. She was a strict mother, but gave bounty in a poor land in exchange for loyalty. She now had half a dozen flyers who scouted ahead for the group, and her males were now strong enough to confront all but the most powerful of the Mad Ones in single combat and stand a fair chance of winning. For the most part, small packs of Mad Ones gave them a wide berth. Those few times they had been attacked they had destroyed their foes and feasted, growing ever stronger.

      Child began mating with the males. Belog was given the honour of being her first, because he was her first companion, and then one by one she took the others. Within weeks she had them completely bound to her and was learning a new concept: love.

      She knew something about it from what she knew of the succubae, but they bound others to them by magic, by charm and glamour. The love she was experiencing was harder to understand. But she knew when she looked at Belog she felt differently to when she beheld the younger males. And although she enjoyed his company, occasionally a feeling of irritation arose in her that she couldn’t explain.

      Feelings confused her and she needed to understand them but she was constantly frustrated by her inability to grasp them. Like quicksilver they dribbled between her fingers as she grappled with them.

      They felt it before they saw it. Over a rise and out of sight, there was a presence. For over a week since leaving Maarg’s city they had been following a well-worn road into a gently descending valley. It was the only place they had found since leaving the bramble thickets where anything grew.

      Tough-looking scrub trees with black bark and magenta leaves were surrounded by bright yellow grasses and tall violet reeds.

      Something coursed through Child when she crested the ridge and saw what she had been sensing. The sensation she experienced was one of being drawn, compelled to go closer.

      ‘There is a portal,’ she said.

      ‘Where does it lead?’ asked Belog.

      ‘I do not know, but it is the reason everyone has left Maarg’s city. That road was worn by his entire realm having come this way.’

      ‘Perhaps it is an escape from the Darkness,’ whispered one of the males, made bold because Child had favoured him with a mating the night before.

      She struck back without looking, ripping a gash across his face. ‘Speak only when I tell you,’ she commanded. Of all her companions, Belog was the only one she allowed any discretion when it came to addressing her.

      She walked down the path and was accosted by alien scents and odd sounds. A faint vibration, too quiet to make out, emanated from the portal. It was a tall rectangle of grey with a scintillating sheen of colours playing across the surface like an oily rainbow on water.

      ‘It is calling,’ said Child.

      ‘I sense a desire to enter,’ agreed Belog. ‘But we know not what is on the other side.’

      ‘Yet it calls.’

      The tug of desire was mounting by the moment.

      ‘Perhaps safety is on the other side,’ ventured one of the females who then cringed in anticipation of Child’s wrath.

      But Child was unmindful of this second breach and simply said, ‘No, we do not know what is beyond.’ When she turned it was with a grin, but there was no humour in it.

      Her features were changing and Belog was most aware of that since he had seen her in her childhood. She now had high cheekbones and piercing black eyes, a regal nose and a high forehead that swept back to a crest that fanned out behind her head like a crown. Her body was lithe and powerful, but hips and breasts were full like those of a succubus. Her teeth were gleaming white instead of yellow or black, with only her eyeteeth pointed, the rest being as flat as those of a lesser being.

      She was changing and into what he had no idea, but he said nothing as she finished her thought.

      ‘But we do know what is behind us, and if it takes a lifetime or ten lifetimes, eventually the Darkness will reach this place.’ She glanced from face to face. ‘And I will not be here when it comes. Choose as you wish.’

      She stepped into the portal.

      A moment later, Belog followed.

• CHAPTER FOURTEEN •

       Flight

      MARTIN RAN UP THE STEPS.

      Barely dressed as the sun rose, he had been summoned by an urgent call from the sentry atop the highest tower in the castle. When he reached the apex of the tower the sentry cried, ‘Sir, the Keshians are moving their trebuchets!’

      ‘Sergeant Ruther!’ shouted Martin and within a minute the old veteran was at his side. ‘It looks as if the Keshians have grown tired of waiting for us to walk away,’ Martin told him. Then he added calmly, ‘Sound the alarm.’

      With a wave the sergeant ordered a trumpeter to sound the call to battle and a moment later every soldier and those men of fighting age who had been armed took up their positions.

      ‘I wonder if they’re going to ask us to leave again?’ asked Sergeant Ruther, his chin jutting as if he was ready for a bar fight.

      Suddenly a massive stone came arcing out from the heart of town and smashed into the stonework to the right of the gate. Shards of masonry exploded and two men fell from the wall nearby, while everyone else ducked for cover. Those townsfolk who were not bearing arms and hadn’t yet fled to the rear of the castle were now leaving the front bailey yard at a run. Their screams of terror filled the air, but through it Sergeant Ruther’s voice cut: ‘Steady!’ Looking at Martin, he said, ‘I guess that means not.’

      The Keshians had been content to sit in the town for five days, sending a message every day, asking for the inhabitants’ surrender. They never threatened; but the threat was implicit as more and more soldiers disembarked from the ships now in Crydee harbour. Already the keep was nearly fully surrounded. Only the heavily-forested area a half mile from the rear wall seemed not yet to be closed off.

      Martin watched as a second stone crashed nearer to the gate. ‘They mean to have that gate down before they attack,’ suggested Martin.

      ‘That’s how I see it, sir. Scaling walls is a messy business and the gate’s the easy way in. Usually we wait until we have to pull back into the keep, and then it gets messy for them.’

      Martin understood. The outer wall was a late addition to the original keep which had a classic murder room behind the outer portcullis. While it was easy enough to lift those two gates, they were extremely difficult to breach without a lot of men dying under a hail of arrows from above. ‘You see any turtles?’

      ‘No,