Emer shivered. “The Dhuvians are the oldest of the Halfling races. There are but few of them now and those all dwell at Caer Dhu.”
Carse asked suddenly, “You have Halfling wisdom—is there no way to be rid of the monstrous thing within me?”
She answered somberly, “Not even the Wise Ones have learned that much.”
The Earthman’s fists closed savagely on the rock of the gallery.
“It would have been better if you’d killed me there in the cave!”
Emer put her gentle hand on his and said, “There is always time for death.”
After she left him Carse paced the floor for hours, wanting the release of wine and not daring to take it, afraid to sleep. When exhaustion took him at last, his guards strapped him to his bed and one stood by with a drawn sword and watched, ready to wake him instantly if he should seem to dream.
And he did dream. Sometimes they were nothing more than nightmares born of his own anguish, and sometimes the dark whisper of an alien voice came gliding into his mind, saying, “ Do not be afraid. Let me speak, for I must tell you.”
Many times Carse awoke with the echo of his screaming in his ears, and the sword’s point at his throat.
“ I mean no harm or evil. I can stop your fears if you will only listen!”