Winter Warriors

by David Gemmell

  Nogusta swayed, and reached out to steady himself. He took a deep breath, and his vision swam.

  'You are sick, human,' said Bakilas. 'Stand aside. I have no wish to kill you.'

  Nogusta's vision cleared. He wiped the sweat from his eyes. 'Then leave,' he said.

  'I cannot do that. My Lord Anharat requires a sacri­fice.'

  'And I am here to prevent it,' said Nogusta. 'So, come forward and die.'

  Beaten back by the pillars of flame surrounding the building Antikas Karios stood with the White Wolf and his men. Ulmenetha ran to stand alongside them. 'Is there nothing your magick can do?' hissed Antikas.

  'Nothing,' she said, her voice echoing her despair, Antikas swore, then ran for the horses. Starfire was still saddled and the warrior heeled him back towards the temple. The White Wolf stepped into his path and grabbed the bridle.

  'No horse will run into those flames - and even if it did, both horse and rider would be burned to a cinder.'

  'Get out of my way!'

  'Wait!' shouted Ulmenetha. 'Fetch water. There may yet be something we can do.'

  Several soldiers ran and collected buckets of water. Under Ulmenetha's direction they doused the gelding. Antikas pulled off his cloak, and this too was drenched. The priestess reached up and took hold of Antikas's hand. 'Listen to me. I shall lower the temperature around you, but I will not be able to hold the spell for long. You must ride through at full gallop. Even then . . .' her words tailed away.

  'Do what you can,' he said, drawing his sword.

  'The horse will swerve and throw you into the flames!' said Banelion.

  Antikas grinned. 'Nogusta told me he would ride through the fires of Hell. Now we will see.' Tugging on the reins he rode the giant gelding back 50 yards, then swung again to face the flames. Swirling his dripping cloak around his shoulders he waited for Ulmenetha's signal.

  She gestured towards him, and he felt a terrible chill sweep over him. With a loud battle cry he kicked Starfire into a run. The gelding powered forward, his steel shod hooves striking sparks from the stone.

  Soldiers scattered ahead of him. Antikas continued to shout his battle cries as Starfire reached full gallop. As they came closer to the pillars of fire he felt the horse begin to slow. 'On Great Heart!' he shouted. 'On!'

  The gelding responded to his call.

  And the flames engulfed them.

  Bakilas was about to attack when suddenly flames burst around the temple, and a fierce glow shone through the windows bathing the temple in crimson light. Then came the beating of giant wings and Nogusta saw the mon­strous form of Anharat glide down from an upper window. The wings beat furiously as his huge form descended, and a great wind blew across the temple sending up a dust storm, and exposing the mosaic at the centre of the floor. It was a surreal sight, for the exposed mosaic depicted a winged creature, with long talons, and blood-red eyes - the mirror image of the creature now hovering above it.

  Conalin stood on the dais, the queen and her babe behind him. The boy wanted to run, but in that moment remembered the bravery of Dagorian and the courage of Bison. He drew his sword and stood his ground, tiny against the monstrous creature before him. The beast's talons scrabbled on the mosaic floor and his wings stretched out a full 20 feet in both directions. He gazed at Conalin through blood-red eyes. 'It is fitting that I find you all in my own temple,' he said. He looked beyond the boy, his gaze fixing on Axiana. 'Your work is done, my queen,' he said. 'You have delivered salvation for my people.'

  Nogusta was about to attack the beast, but felt a cold blade against his throat. Bakilas spoke. 'You have done all that you can, human. And I respect you for it. Lay down your sword.' Nogusta's blade flashed up, knock­ing away the Krayakin's sword. He lunged at the black-armoured warrior, but Bakilas sidestepped and parried the Storm Sword, sending a riposte that slammed into Nogusta's ribs. As the blade plunged home, and terrible pain tore through him, Nogusta reached out and grabbed Bakilas's sword arm. Then, with the last of his strength he rammed his own blade into Bakilas's belly. The Krayakin cried out, then fell back, pulling Nogusta with him. They both fell to the ground. Nogusta struggled to rise, but his legs failed him, and he slumped down. Bakilas reared over him, dragging his sword clear of Nogusta's body. Then he rose unsteadily and advanced towards the dais.

  Anharat moved towards Conalin, who stood on the dais, holding Bison's sword before him.

  'You have only moments to live, child,' said Anharat. 'I shall tear out your heart.'

  He started to move, when suddenly there came the sound of distant chimes. Dust motes hung in the air, and the boy stood unblinking before him.

  Time stood still and the shining figure of Emsharas appeared on the dais, next to the statue-still queen and the frozen, armoured figure of Bakilas.

  'You are in time to see my victory, brother,' said Anharat.

  'Indeed I am, brother. And tell me what you will achieve?'

  'I will undo your spell, and the Illohir will walk upon the earth.'

  'And they will be consigned to the void, one by one. It may take centuries, but in the end you will all be returned to the place that is Nowhere,' said Emsharas.

  'And where will you be?' roared Anharat. 'What place of pleasure have you found that you have not shared with your people?'

  'You still do not see, Anharat,' said Emsharas, sadly. 'Do you truly not know what became of me? Think, my brother. What could prevent you finding me? We are twin souls. Since the dawn of time we have been together. Where could I go that you could not feel my soul?'

  'I have no time for riddles,' said Anharat. 'Tell me, and then be gone!'

  'Death,' said Emsharas. 'When I cast the Great Spell in that tomorrow that is already four thousand years past, I shall power it with my life force. I shall die. Indeed, in this time I am already dead. That is why you could not find me. Why you will never find me. From tomorrow I will no longer exist!'

  'Dead?' echoed Anharat. 'That is impossible. We can­not die!'

  'But we can,' said Emsharas. 'We can surrender our souls to the universe. And when we do so the power we release is colossal. It was that power which dragged the Illohir from the surface of this planet and held them in the limbo that is Nowhere. But it was only the first step, Anharat. Not even my death could propel our people to the world I found, a world where we can take form, and eat and drink, and know the joy of true life.'

  'No,' said Anharat, 'you cannot be dead! I will not have it. I . . . I will not believe it!'

  'I do not lie, brother. You know that. But it was the only way I could think of to save our people, and give them a chance of life in the pleasure of the flesh. I did not want to leave you, Anharat. You and I were a part of each other. Together we were One.'

  'Aye, we were!' shouted Anharat. 'But now I do not need you. Go then and die! And leave me to my victory! I hate you, brother, more than anything under the stars!'

  The shining figure of Emsharas seemed to fade under the power of Anharat's rage, and his voice when he spoke again was distant. 'I am sorry that you hate me, for I have always loved you. And I know how much you want to thwart me, but think on this: With all the power you have amassed what have you achieved? The Krayakin are returned to the void, the gogarin is dead, and an army awaits you outside the temple. Once you have killed the child you will need all your power to draw back the Illohir. After that you will be merely a sorcerer. The army will kill you, and all across the world mankind will unite against our people. But you will have thwarted me. You will have made my death useless and unnecessary. It will be your final victory.'

  'Then that will be enough for me!' roared Anharat.

  'Will it?' asked Emsharas. 'Our people have two destinies, and both are in your hands, my brother. They can pass to a world of light, or they can return to the void. The choice is yours. My death alone could not complete the spell. But yours will. If you choose to be the third king to die then our people shall know joy. But whatever your choice I shall not remain to see it. We wi
ll never speak again. Goodbye, my twin!'

  Emsharas stepped back and vanished. Anharat stood very still, and a great emptiness engulfed him. He realized in that moment what Bakilas had sensed the day before. His hatred of Emsharas was almost identical to his love. Without Emsharas there was nothing. There never had been. Throughout the last four thousand years thoughts of Emsharas, and the revenge he would know, had filled his mind. But he had never desired his brother's death. Not to lose him for all time.

  'I love you too, my brother,' he said. He looked around the temple, and saw that the humans were still frozen. Against the wall a young girl had her arms around a child, and upon the dais a teenage boy stood holding a sword. Behind him the queen had turned away, shielding her baby with her body. Bakilas was close by, his sword raised. The black warrior was lying sprawled beside the dais, his blood pooling on the mosaic floor.

  Anharat blinked and remembered the journeys upon the cosmic winds, when he and Emsharas had been as one, twin souls, inseparable.

  To die? The thought filled him with terror. To lose eternity? And yet what joy would there be in immortality now?

  Then the music of the chimes began to fade, and the humans started to move.

  Conalin watched the beast as it landed on the mosaic floor. 'You have only moments to live, child,' said Anharat. 'I shall tear out your heart.' The beast seemed to flicker for a moment, then it moved slowly forward, towering above the boy. Suddenly it dropped down, arms outstretched, its huge dark head lunging forward. Conalin leapt, plunging the sword deep into the thick, black neck. The talons swept down and settled over Conalin's shoulder. But they did not pierce the skin. Gently the beast pushed Conalin aside. Cream-coloured ichor spilled from the wound as the sword was torn free. Anharat dragged himself up onto the dais. Conalin hacked at his back, the blade slashing open the skin. The demon crawled past the queen and hauled himself up onto the altar. Twisting he spread his wings and lay back. Conalin jumped up and holding his sword with both hands drove it down into Anharat's chest. The boy stared down into the demon's eyes. Only then did he realize that the creature had made no move to attack him.

  Confused, Conalin released the sword. Anharat's taloned fingers curled round the hilt. But he made no attempt to draw it forth.

  'Emsharas!' whispered the demon.

  A black shadow moved alongside Conalin. He swung to see the armoured knight moving towards the queen.

  'No!' he shouted. With no weapon he sprang at the knight. A mailed fist hit him with a back handed blow that spun him from his feet.

  Bakilas struggled on, the Storm Sword still thrust deep in his belly. Clinging to life he raised his blade. Axiana backed away. 'Do not harm my son,' she pleaded. Twenty feet away Nogusta pushed himself to his knees and drew a knife. His arm snapped forward. The blade flashed through the air, plunging deep into Bakilas's left eye. The Krayakin staggered back, then dragged the knife clear, hurling it to the floor. Nogusta tried to draw another. Then he passed out.

  The sound of galloping hoofs filled the air. Bakilas turned to see a horseman with a cloak of fire bearing down upon him. Desperately he swung towards the queen and made one last attempt to reach her. Antikas Karios lifted the Storm Sword high and threw it with all his strength. The blade scythed through the air and slammed through Bakilas's neck. The Krayakin crumpled and fell across the body of Anharat.

  Casting aside the blazing cloak Antikas leapt from Starfire. The horse's mane was aflame and the warrior smothered the fire with his hands. The gelding was burned across the lower body, and his legs were blistered and bleeding. Antikas himself had injuries to his arms and hands, and the skin over his cheek bone showed a vivid red burn.

  Upon the dais Anharat's body began to glow with a brilliant, blinding light which filled the temple. Temporarily blinded Antikas fell to his knees, his hands over his face.

  Behind him he could hear the pounding of feet, and guessed the pillars of fire had vanished.

  Hands grabbed him, hauling him upright. He opened his eyes. At first he could see only vague shapes. But then he saw the face of the White Wolf swim into focus.

  'That was a fine ride,' said Banelion. Antikas gazed upon the altar. There was no sign now of the Demon Lord, nor of the dead Krayakin. Both had vanished.

  Conalin ran to where Nogusta lay, and knelt down beside him. 'I killed it,' he said. 'I killed the beast!'

  Nogusta gave a weak smile. 'You did well, my friend. I . . . am proud of you.' He took the boy's hand and lifted it to the talisman. 'What . . . do . . . you see?' he asked, his voice weak and fading.

  Conalin closed his eyes. 'I see a strange land, with pur­ple mountains. The Krayakin are there. They are bewil­dered.'

  'What . . . else?'

  'I see a woman. She is tall and black and beautiful.'

  Nogusta leaned against the boy. 'I. . . see her too,' he said. Kebra ran forward and threw himself down by Nogusta's side.

  'Don't you dare die on me!' he said.

  Nogusta released Conalin's hand and gripped Kebra's arm. 'No . . . choice,' he whispered. 'Take Starfire . . . back to the mountains.'

  'Ulmenetha!' shouted Kebra.

  'I am here,' she said. Conalin moved back and allowed the priestess to kneel beside the dying man.

  'You can heal him,' said Kebra. 'Lay your hands on him.'

  'I cannot heal him,' she said. 'Not now.'

  Kebra looked down into Nogusta's dead eyes. 'Oh no,' he said. 'You can't leave me like this! Nogusta!' Tears fell to his cheeks. 'Nogusta!' Ulmenetha leaned over and closed the bright blue eyes. Kebra hugged the body to him, cradling the head. Ulmenetha moved back, and, as Conalin tried to reach Kebra she took hold of his arm and drew him away.

  'Leave them together for a little while,' she said.

  'I just wanted to tell him what I saw. He found his wife. On a world with two moons.'

  'I know.' Ulmenetha walked to where Starfire was standing. The horse was shivering, and in great pain. She stroked his neck, then went to work on his wounds, heal­ing the blisters and the burns. The worst of the wounds was in his right eye, which was almost blinded. But this too she healed.

  Antikas approached her. 'He is a great horse,' he said. 'Nogusta was right.'

  'Let me heal your burns,' she said, reaching up towards his blistered face. He shook his head.

  'I will carry the pain. It will remind me of what we lost here today.'

  She smiled up at him. 'That sounds dangerously like humility, Antikas Karios.'

  He nodded. 'Yes it does. How depressing. Do you think it will wear off?'

  'I hope not,' she told him.

  'I will see that it does not,' he said. Offering her a bow he turned and walked back to the queen.

  The White Wolf stood silently gazing down at Kebra and Nogusta, his expression unreadable. Then he moved to the queen's side. 'Where would you like to go, highness?' he asked, his voice weary.

  'Back to Usa,' she said. 'And I would like you and your men to help me restore order in the city, and bring peace to the land. Will you do this for me, Banelion?'

  'I will, highness.'

  Stepping forward she summoned Antikas Karios. He bowed deeply. 'Will you swear allegiance to me, and promise to defend the rights of my son?'

  'With my life,' he told her.

  'Then you will take command of the Ventrian army.'

  Lastly she called Conalin to her. 'What is it I can do for you?' she asked. 'Name it and it is yours.'

  'Kebra and I are going to Drenan,' he said. 'We are going to find Nogusta's horses and rebuild his house.'

  'I shall see you have gold for the journey,' she said. Conalin bowed then walked to where Pharis was sitting with Sufia.

  'Will you come with me to Drenan?' he asked them. Pharis took his hand.

  'Where you are I will be,' she said. 'Always.'

  'And me! And me!' said Sufia.

  Kebra walked out into the night, grief overwhelming him. Ulmenetha stepped out of the shadows and took his arm. 'He k
new he was to die,' she said. 'He saw it. But he saw something else, something incredible. He wanted me to tell you. He was descended from Emsharas, and that meant he was part Illohir. As was Ushuru, for they were cousins. He saw himself walking with her in a strange land, under a violet sky. The Krayakin were there, and Dryads and Fauns and many other Illohir. I think he saw it as some kind of paradise.'

  Kebra said nothing, and gazed up at the bright stars. 'I know the pain you are feeling,' said Ulmenetha. 'I too have lost loved ones. But the three of you saved us all. None of you will ever be forgotten.'

  Kebra turned on her. 'Do you think I care about fame? They were my family. I loved them. I feel their loss as if someone has cut them from me. I wish I had died with them.'

  Ulmenetha was silent for a moment. Conalin came out of the temple, holding hands with Pharis and little Sufia. The child broke away and ran to Kebra, who was weep­ing once more. She reached up and took his hand.

  'Don't be sad,' she said. 'Please don't be sad.' Then she too began to cry. Kebra dropped down beside her.

  'Sometimes,' he said, 'it is good to be sad.' He brushed her blond hair back from her eyes. Conalin came along­side him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  'You are not alone, Kebra,' said Ulmenetha. 'You have a family to raise. Conalin and Pharis and Sufia. And I shall come with you for a while, for I have an urge to run over mountain trails and see the wild flowers grow.'

  'We will find Nogusta's horses,' said Conalin. 'And we will rebuild his house.'

  Kebra smiled. 'He would like that.'

  THE END