A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1) by Freda Warrington Page A

conquerors more glorious, but less than the rat scuffling in the straw at the child’s feet…
    ‘Miril,’ Ashurek said, his voice a rasp of pain, ‘help me.’
    ‘How can there be help without Hope? The world’s Hope was I, and you have destroyed me. I will fade, and hide myself in darkness to mourn, and wait. And you, as soon as I am gone, will begin to seek me; and unless you find me again, your world will be doomed. No more can I say.’
    Then Ashurek knew he had committed a more terrible act than Meshurek. The Egg-Stone was burning into his palm like molten metal as he was carried down into the dark spiral of his fate. Speechless, he watched Miril’s lovely form fade.
    ‘Oh, Ashurek, I think no wrong of you,’ she sang before she disappeared, and the words pierced him like arrows of mercy he did not deserve.
    When Meheg-Ba retrieved Ashurek from the dimension and stood before him again, the demon seemed an insipid figure, hardly to be feared. Ashurek was ready to fight the Shanin for the Egg-Stone, because its dark power had utterly possessed him. But the Shanin did not attempt to take the Stone. Meheg-Ba wanted it to remain in the High Commander’s hands, for there it was most useful.
    Ashurek was returned to the palace, to find that only a few hours had passed. Still dazed, feeling hollow and emotionless, he wandered in the corridors until Orkesh found him and seized him by the arms, her green eyes searching his face.
    ‘Where have you been?’ she cried. ‘What happened? Did you find Meshurek?’
    He said nothing and Orkesh backed away from him, reading the terrible Serpent-power in his eyes. Filled with dismay and horror – and a dark desire she did not understand – she turned and ran, sobbing as she went.
    He mouthed her name, only half understanding the misery he felt as she retreated. Then he went to his room and made a small leather pouch for the Egg-Stone, and hung it on a chain about his neck. He was oblivious to Meshurek’s presence, although his brother sat in full view, staring with greed and longing at the evil artefact.
    It was not in Meheg-Ba’s plan, but Meshurek was determined to take the Egg-Stone for himself.
    Now began the most terrible phase of Ashurek’s life and Gorethria’s history. The Egg-Stone’s black power made him invincible, flowing from him into his soldiers until they became one terrible, bloody entity that could scythe through the strongest resistance. Ashurek took a single division with him to subdue the rebellion in Alaak. And although the white-faced, fierce, hard-disciplined Alaakian army greatly outnumbered the Gorethrians, they were nevertheless ruthlessly slaughtered in what came to be called the Massacre of Alaak.
    And Ashurek discovered that with the fierce joy of bloodshed and victory came grief, guilt and self-loathing. But there was nothing he could do to resist the Egg-Stone’s power over him. He was an instrument to extend the Empire over which Meshurek and Meheg-Ba ruled.
    Now Meshurek’s dream began to come true. As he had predicted, ships carrying his brother and over half Gorethria’s armies sailed across the ocean to the continent of Team. There they ravaged their way through the countries of the East coast, and all, weak or strong, fell before Prince Ashurek’s terrible might.
    Tearn was thrown into turmoil as the months and years passed and more and more countries came under Gorethria’s rule. Ashurek rightfully earned his reputation as despoiler, murderer and necromancer. He swiftly became the most loathed and feared man in the world; he was called child-slayer, devil, Grimhawk, Serpent in human form. As with all legends, eventually the colourful tales outstripped reality. Those Tearnians who actually met him found a quietly-spoken, morose and troubled man rather than the grinning, wild demon of the stories.
    He was troubled indeed. The more the Egg-Stone drove him on to cruel and violent deeds, the more he saw Miril’s eyes in his dreams