The City of Cutthroats by Weitze Torsten

Author:Weitze, Torsten
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-31T00:00:00+00:00

Ahren. Culhen’s anxious voice echoed urgently in the Paladin’s head. Ahren, wake up!

What’s wrong? Asked the drowsy Forest Guardian. Is there trouble?

Not…exactly, explained the wolf hesitantly. Lanlion is standing guard here in the antechamber, but he’s behaving weirdly. He has been stroking me for half the night, but his movements are very wooden – and he always strokes the same spot on my back. Also – he isn’t blinking.

I’m coming, said Ahren, swinging his legs carefully out of the bed so as not to disturb Khara. Then he pushed open the heavy door as soundlessly as he could and slipped into the gloomy corridor, holding a lantern which cast a meagre light. Lanlion did not react to the illumination, and when Ahren reached the vestibule, he understood why Culhen was perturbed. Lanlion was standing there, as rigid as a plank, and his hand was repeatedly stroking Culhen, who was sitting beside him. But it was as if the Bloodless was being controlled by a puppeteer. Muai had retreated to a corner of the cave, her green eyes staring in alarm, reflecting the light of the lantern in an unnerving manner.

‘Lanlion?’ asked Ahren in a low voice.

No reaction.

‘Lanlion?’ he repeated with a little more force.

The pale Paladin spun around, Ahren immediately flinching. His friend’s eyes were almost pitch black, and his gaze was that of a sleepwalker. ‘Ahren?’ he asked in a muffled voice. ‘Are you unable to sleep?’

‘In a manner of speaking,’ replied the Forest Guardian evasively. ‘But what is the matter with you? You don’t look at all well.’

‘I am fine,’ said the Bloodless in a quavering voice. ‘Indeed, I am very well.’

‘I don’t understand,’ countered Ahren carefully.

‘There was only one kind of blood to drink in the cellar,’ said the pallid man regretfully. ‘And for me to have turned it down would only have given me the appearance of weakness and endangered our cover. After all, what Bloodless would reject human blood?’

Ahren gritted his teeth. He had surmised already what Lanlion had done to the corpses in The Fifty Sins, but to hear it from his friend’s mouth was another matter. He paused before replying. ‘Was it that bad?’ he asked compassionately.

Lanlion shook his head. ‘It was sublime.’ The way the accursed Paladin had uttered the last word came out as a groan. ‘It was like slaking my thirst with liquid sunlight. And I feel all-powerful. I feel as though I could dismantle Gol-Konar rock by rock.’

Ahren considered how best to reply, then settled for the truth. ‘At the moment, you do not resemble yourself,’ he said softly. ‘And you also sound different.’ He pointed at the tunnel leading towards his friends. ‘Why don’t you come back with me and take a few sips of the Onasthil water? Then you will see things more clearly.’

‘Do you really think so?’ asked Lanlion numbly.

‘I am certain,’ replied Ahren although he was only faintly hopeful. The pool of the goddess had always helped Lanlion to still his hunger up until now. The Forest Guardian could only pray that that it would also calm Lanlion’s mind.

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