Lords of the Shadows by Robert Holdstock

Author:Robert Holdstock [Holdstock, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic, Fantasy
ISBN: 0441705731
Publisher: Corgi
Published: 1979-03-01T07:00:00+00:00

Ten

A storm has come across the land

Once-great warriors dull their swords

The men’s screams are the cries of the tormented

It is a dark time in the land of the Braigdanas.

from the Killing of Nui’rioth—Dubthag epic poem

It was a tiny chamber within the narrow building; there was no window to admit light, but about the walls were scattered gently glowing stones of green and red that cast a sombre light upon the polished floor. The ceiling of the place was very high. Small creatures scuttled away from Raven as she stepped into the place, insects and spiders, and perhaps shadowy rats of tiny size. There were ledges and holes about the walls of the chamber, deep recesses into which air could drift, and from which the life of the island could come, perhaps. Too narrow for a man, these tunnels formed the air into a gentle sound, a susurrance of murmured greeting, an all-but-inaudible moan of welcome.

In the middle of the room were two crystal tombs, carved and designed with such intricacy that the light from the wall seemed to blind Raven as it was reflected from these tombs; she could see, as she moved about the place, that each block of crystal held a naked human figure.

Spellbinder was already bending close, peering through one facet of one tomb to see the face of the man who lay within.

“His is asleep, not dead,” came the warlock’s voice. Raven bent to look and saw a noble face, aquiline and regal, the eyes closed, the mouth wide and full and almost smiling; fair hair, ringed and cut in a way unfamiliar to Raven, was spread about his head, and a thin, almost translucent band of some precious substance wound about his forehead and above his ears. The man’s body was muscular and strong, his legs thick, his calves slim, his waistline trim as a boy’s, his dark member that of a virile man.

Raven turned away and joined Silver, peering into the second tomb.

“A woman,” she breathed, and then was silent as she took in the beauty of the body that lay there, the serenity of the lovely face that slept below her gaze; soft where her companion was hard and ridged, the woman was full-breasted and wide-hipped, and her hair as well was ringleted and spread about her face, long longs of it curling across her shoulders and resting gently on her unmoving breast.

Raven drew back, questioning Spellbiner with her gaze.

The warlock shrugged. “How to release them? I know not.”

There came a loud hammering on the door. All three turned abruptly to face that end of the chamber, and Silver drew his sword and stepped quickly down to the entrance. As he stood there, and Raven joined him, the door buckled inwards against the lock that Silver had turned.

“They have great strength for all their shriveled looks,” said Raven, but Spellbinder replied, “I think we face something else…”

The door burst inwards and Silver struck hard and accurately at the tall warrior who came through; head was severed from body, went rolling away, the metal helm rattling on the stone floor.

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