Knight Errant (Warhammer Fantasy) by Anthony Reynolds

Author:Anthony Reynolds [Reynolds, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2011-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Bertelis glanced sideways at Anara, his eyes guarded. That she was Calard’s twin was obvious, for the similarities between them were striking; they shared the same eyes and the same colouring. She was short and petite where Calard was broad and strong, but even small gestures betrayed the kinship between them: the way she unconsciously brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, and the way they seemed to mirror each other’s movements.

This was his sister, too, he reminded himself, his half-sister, as closely related to him as Calard was. Of course he had heard his brother speak of Anara much when they were children, and though he had spoken of her less as the years passed, he knew that she had never been far from his mind. He heard him call out her name in his sleep, and though in the last few years he would not be drawn into conversation regarding his mysterious twin, he knew that Calard thought of her often, and had long dreamed of finding her.

She is not dead, he remembered Calard saying once. Anara had been missing for years, but he would fiercely rebuke anyone that suggested he let her go. I would know it if she had been claimed by Morr, Calard had said, bristling in anger. Bertelis had long believed that it was a forlorn hope that Calard clung to, to be reunited with Anara, but here she was in the flesh.

This, however, was not the carefree child that Calard had wistfully spoken of. She was clearly touched by the fey, and everything about her resonated with otherworldliness. She spoke in a soft, distant voice, and her eyes often grew unfocused. Her movements were calm and full of grace, as if time slowed in her presence.

Bertelis was certain that she was mad, but he had no doubt of her power.

She seemed to radiate an elemental strength that Bertelis found unnerving. Strangely, it reminded him of a journey he had made once as a boy, to the famed port-city of L’Anguille in the north. He had stood upon a high cliff and stared out across the endless, glittering ocean depths. There had been no wind that day, and the deep green of the sea was sublimely beautiful, calm and tranquil. The following day a storm had blown in, and the ocean had turned into a raging tyrant, destructive and awesome in its strength. Although it had been serene and comforting the day before, now it smashed against the cliffs with such power that it made Bertelis feel insignificant and small.

It had frightened him then, and this was the sense that he got from Anara. She was like the sea becalmed, serene, beautiful and peaceful, but beneath the surface, deep within, Bertelis sensed that there lay a similar power to that of the sea: destructive, dangerous, and somehow ageless.

As if sensing his eyes upon her, the damsel turned towards him. It felt as though her gaze pierced his soul, seeing every shameful act and hidden secret, and he quickly dropped his gaze, his face paling.

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