Cadoras leaned over him as Waylander pushed out his arms; his sword sliced down and the ropes parted. Waylander glanced round, seeing that his own horse was tethered to a bush, his clothes and weapons tied to the saddle. By the trees was the naked corpse of the nadir warrior he had slain the night before. He stumbled to his horse, pulled clear the reins and, with an effort, climbed into the saddle. Then they were off, hugging the tree-lined narrow trail.
Behind them the Nadir were closing and arrows flashed perilously close to the fugitives, then the two men were out of the trees and found themselves riding across open ground.
'I hope your horse can jump,' yelled Cadoras.
Waylander strained to see ahead, fear rising in him as he saw the trail end in a sudden drop. Cadoras spurred on. 'Follow me!' he shouted.
His huge grey gelding sailed over the chasm and Waylander dug his heels into his mount's flanks and followed. The jump was less than ten feet. Far below them a river rushed over white rocks. Cadoras' horse landed well, slithering on the scree; Waylander almost fell as his own mount leapt, but hung on grimly. The horse stumbled on the far side, but found its feet and carried its rider out of bowshot. Waylander swung in the saddle to see the nadir riders lining the chasm; the jump was too great for their ponies.
The two men headed deeper into the mountains, riding over rocks and through streams. Waylander swayed in the saddle, then lifted the canteen from the pommel and drank deeply. Turning, he pulled his cloak clear of the saddle rolls and swung it over his burning shoulders. Towards dusk, as they entered a thicker grove of trees, Cadoras suddenly pitched from his saddle. Waylander dismounted, tethered his horse and knelt by the fallen man. Only then did he see the three arrows that jutted from Cadoras' back. The man's cloak was drenched with blood. Gently Waylander eased him into a sitting position and Cadoras' head fell back against Waylander's chest. Glancing down, Waylander saw a fourth shaft deep in the man's left side.
Cadoras opened his eyes. 'Seems like a good place to camp,' he whispered.
'Why did you come back for me?'
'Who knows? Get me a drink.' With care Waylander eased the dying man against a tree before fetching a canteen. Cadoras drank deeply. 'I followed you. Found the Nadir you'd killed and saw that you had taken his clothes. I guessed then that you were engaged in some senseless act of folly.'
'You mean as senseless as attacking a Nadir camp singlehanded?'
Cadoras chuckled, then winced. 'Foolish, was it not? But then I've never been a hero. Thought I would try it just once – I don't think I'll ever do it again.'
'You want me to get those arrows out?'
'What would be the point? You'd rip me to pieces. Do you know … I have only been injured once in all these years, and that was merely a surface cut to the face which gave me this loathsome scar. Strange, is it not? I spend my life committing dark deeds, and the one time I try to do good I get killed. There's no justice!'
'Why did you do it? Truly, now?'
Cadoras leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
'I wish I knew. Do you think there's a heaven?'
'Yes,' lied Waylander.
'Do you think that one act can wipe out a lifetime of evil?'
'I don't know. I hope so.'
'Probably not. You know I never married? Never met anyone who liked me. Hardly surprising – I never liked myself much. Listen – don't trust Durmast, he sold you out. He's taken a commission from Kaem to fetch the Armour.'
'I know.'
'You know? And yet you ride with him?'
'Life's a puzzle,' said Waylander. 'How do you feel?'
'That's a ridiculous question. I can't feel my legs and my back is burning like the devil. Have you ever had friends, Waylander?'
'Yes. Way back.'
'Was it a good feeling?'
'Yes.'
'I can imagine. I think you should go now. The Nadir will be here soon.'
'I'll stay awhile.'
'Don't be noble,' snapped Cadoras. 'Go and get that Armour! I would hate to think I was dying in vain. And take my horse with you – I don't want some dog-eating tribesman to have him. But watch out for him, he's a hateful beast; he'll take your hand off if he can.'
'I'll be careful.' Waylander lifted Cadoras' hand and squeezed it. 'Thank you, my friend.'
'Go away now. I want to die alone.'
17
The Drenai officer, Sarvaj, slept fitfully. He was huddled in the lee of the battlements with a thick blanket wrapped around him, his head resting on a ripped saddlebag he had found near the stables. He was cold and could feel each ring of his mailshirt, even through the leather backing and the woollen undershirt. Sleeping in armour was never comfortable, but add wind and rain and it becomes unbearable. Sarvaj turned over, catching his ear on a bronze buckle; he cursed and sat up, drawing his knife. After some minutes he sawed through the wet leather and hurled the offending metal out over the battlements.
Overhead thunder rolled impressively, and a fresh downpour lashed the grey stone walls. Sarvaj wished he had a rain cape of oiled leather, but even that would not have kept him dry in this storm. Beside him Vanek and Jonat slept on, blissfully unaware of the weather. In fact they had welcomed it, for it put a stop to the night attacks which wore down the spirit of the defenders.
Lightning speared the sky, illuminating the Keep which reared from the grey granite mountains like a broken tooth. Sarvaj stood and stretched. Turning, he gazed out over the harbour and the bay beyond. Vagrian triremes bobbed and swung on their anchors as the storm winds buffeted the bay. More than forty ships were now anchored at Purdol and Kaem's army had swelled to almost 60,000 fighting men – a sign, so Karnak assured the defenders, of growing desperation among the Vagrians.
Sarvaj was not so sure. Nearly a thousand men had died during the last fourteen bloody days, with almost the same number removed from the fighting by grievous wounds. When the wind changed you could hear the screams from the hospital.
Elban, a fine rider, had his leg amputated after gangrene set in, only to die during the ghastly operation. Sidrik, the jester of the regiment, took an arrow through the throat. The names spilled over in Sarvaj's mind, a rush of faces and jagged memories.
And Gellan seemed so tired. His hair shone with streaks of silver and his eyes were sunken and ringed with purple. Only Karnak seemed unchanged. Some of his fat had disappeared, yet he was still an awesome size. During a lull in the fighting the previous day he had wandered to Sarvaj's section. , 'Another day closer to victory,' Karnak had said, a wide grin making him seem boyish in the dusk light.
'I hope so,' said Sarvaj, wiping his sword clean of blood and replacing it in its scabbard. 'You're losing weight, general.'
'I'll let you into a secret: a thin man couldn't keep up this pace! My father was twice my size and he lived to be over ninety.'
"That would be nice,' said Sarvaj, grinning. 'I'd like to live to be twenty-five.'
'They won't beat us, they haven't the guts for it.'
It had seemed politic to agree and Karnak had walked off in search of Gellan.
Now Sarvaj listened to the thunder; it seemed to be moving towards the east. Stepping over the sleeping soldiers, he picked his way to the eastern gate tower and climbed the winding stair. Even here men slept, choosing to keep dry. He trod on someone's leg, but the man merely grunted and did not wake.
Walking out on to the high battlements, Sarvaj saw Gellan sitting on a stone seat staring out over the bay. The rain was now easing to a fine drizzle, as if some dark god had realised that dawn was but an hour away and the Vagrians needed good weather to scale the walls.
'Do you never sleep?' asked Sarvaj.
Gellan smiled. 'I do not seem to have the need of it. I doze now and then.'
'Karnak says we are winning.'
'Fine. I'll start to pack.'
Sarvaj slumped down beside him. 'It seems as if we've been here forever – as if all that's gone before is just a dream.'
'I know the
feeling,' said Gellan.
'Two men ran at me yesterday, and I killed them both while thinking about a dance in Drenan last year. It was a weird experience, as if my body had taken over and my mind was free to wander.'
'Do not let it wander too far, my friend. We are none of us invulnerable.'
For a while they sat in silence and Gellan leaned his head back on the stone and dozed. Then Sarvaj spoke again.
'Wouldn't it be nice to wake up in Drenan?'
'Farewell to the bad dream?'
'Yes … Sidrik died today.'
'I hadn't heard.'
'Arrow through the throat.'
'Swift, then?'
'Yes, I hope I go as swiftly.'
'You die on me and I'll stop your pay,' said Gellan.
'I remember pay,' mused Sarvaj. 'Wasn't that something we used to get way back when the world was sane?'
'Just think how much you'll be worth when it's over!'
'Over?' muttered Sarvaj, his humour disappearing as swiftly as the storm. 'It will never be over. Even if we win, can you see us forgiving the Vagrians? We'll turn their land into a charnel-house and see how they stomach it.'
'Is that what you want?'
'Right now? Yes. Tomorrow … probably not. What would it achieve? I wonder how Egel is faring?'
'Dardalion says he is only a month from attempting a breakout. And the Lentrians have smashed the Vagrian army and advanced into the Drenai lands. You remember old Ironlatch?'
'The old man at the banquet?'
'Yes.'
'The one with no teeth who had to eat soup and soft bread?'
'The very same. Well, now he leads the Lentrian army.'
'I cannot believe it. We all laughed at him.'
'Laughter or not, he is pushing them back.'
'That must be hard for them to take. They're not used to losing.'
'That's their weakness,' said Gellan. 'A man or an army need to lose once in a while. It's like putting steel through fire – if it doesn't break it comes out stronger.'
'Karnak has never lost.'
'I know.'
'So does your philosophy hold true with him?'
'You always manage to find the difficult questions. But yes, I think it does. When Karnak talks of the inevitability of victory he genuinely believes it.'
'And what about you?'
'You are my friend, Sarvaj, and I will not talk down to you. We have a chance – no more than that.'
'You are telling me no more than I know. What I want to know is: do you think we'll win?'
'Why should I be any more reliable in predictions than Karnak?'
'Because I trust you.'
'And I value that trust, but I can't answer you.'
'I think you already have.'
High in the Keep, Karnak was beginning to lose patience with the surgeon, Evris. Fighting to hold his temper, he cut across the man's argument by crashing his fist on the table.
'I will not have the wounded brought to the Keep! You understand? What do I need to say to you, Evris? Is my language not plain enough?'
'Oh, it is plain enough, general. I tell you that men are dying in their scores unnecessarily – and you do not care.'
'Care? Of course I care,' thundered Karnak. 'You impudent wretch! The audience is ended. Get out!'
'Audience, general? I thought one held those with kings. Not butchers!' In two strides Karnak rounded the table and grabbed the slightly-built surgeon by his blood covered apron. Evris was hauled from his feet to dangle before the furious warrior.
Karnak held him high for several seconds and then hurled him against the far door. Evris hit hard and slid to the floor.
'Get out before I kill you,' hissed Karnak. Dundas, who had been watching the scene in silence, moved to his feet and assisted the surgeon, helping him out into the corridor.
'You went too far, surgeon,' said Dundas softly. 'Are you hurt?'
Evris wrenched himself clear of Dundas' supporting arms. 'No, I'm not hurt, Dundas. I don't have gangrene spreading through my limbs. I don't have maggots breeding in my wounds.'
'Try to understand the wider view,' urged Dundas. 'We face many enemies, not least of which is the threat of plague. We cannot take the wounded into the Keep.'
'You think me so lacking in understanding of strategy that you must feed me the same simple line as your leader? I know what he is thinking and I would have respected him far more had he admitted it. We cannot hold the walls for much longer. Then the soldiers will retreat to the Keep. Karnak wants only fighting men there – he doesn't need a thousand or more wounded men clogging the space, needing to be fed … watered … cleansed and healed.'
Dundas said nothing and Evris smiled. 'Thank you for not disagreeing. When the retreat comes the Vagrians will kill every wounded man – butcher them in their beds.'
'Karnak has no choice.'
'I know that, damn you.'
'Then why did you rail against him?'
'Because he is there! It is his responsibility; it comes with power. And also because I detest him.'
'How can you say that when he is fighting to defend everything you have lived for?'
'Defending? You cannot defend what I have lived for with a sword. You cannot see it, can you, Dundas? There is no real difference between Karnak and Kaem. They are brothers of the Soul. But I cannot stand here talking to you when men are dying.' He stumbled away, then turned by the stairs.
'This morning I found three men dead in the stable cellar, where I had been forced to place them. Rats had eaten them alive.'
Then he was gone and Dundas sighed and returned to the general's rooms. He took a deep breath as he opened the door. Karnak was sitting at the table, his fury still present.
'Insipid worm!' he declared as Dundas entered. 'How dare he say that to me? When this is over, there will be a reckoning.'
'No, there won't, general,' said Dundas. 'You will honour him with medals and apologise.'
'Never! He accused me of forcing Degas to suicide – of not caring about my men.'
'He is a good surgeon and a caring man. And he knows why you will not allow the wounded into the Keep.'
'How? How does he know?'
'Because he is also a soldier.'
'If he knows, why in Hell's name did he attack me?'
'I don't know, general.'
Karnak grinned, and his anger passed. 'For a small man he certainly stood up to me.'
'He did that well enough.'
'I'll only give him a small medal – and no apology,' said Karnak. 'Now tell me, how is the water situation?'
'We've moved six hundred barrels into the Keep. That's the limit.'
'How long will that last?'
'It depends how many men we have left.'
'Say two thousand when the retreat comes?'
'Roughly six weeks, then.'
'It's not enough, not nearly enough. Why the Hell doesn't Egel break out?'
'It's not time; he's not ready.'
'He's too cautious.'
'He knows what he's doing, sir. He's a canny thinker.'
'He lacks flair.'
'You mean he isn't reckless?'
'Don't tell me what I mean,' snapped Karnak. 'Go away and get some rest.'
Dundas returned to his quarters and lay back on the narrow bed. There was no point in removing his armour; dawn was less than an hour away.
As he drifted towards sleep, images of Karnak and Egel floated in his mind. Both were men of awesome power. Karnak was like a storm, dramatic and inspiring, while Egel was more like an angry sea – deep, dark and deadly. They would never be friends. Could never be friends.
The images shifted and Dundas saw a tiger and a bear surrounded by snarling wolves. While the common enemy was close, the two animals would fight side by side.
But what would happen when the wolves departed?
Sarvaj buckled the chin-strap of his helmet and sharpened his sword with a black whetstone. Beside him Jonat was silent as th
e enemy raced forward carrying their ladders and coiled ropes. There were few archers now on the walls, the supply of arrows having been virtually drained three days before.
'What I'd give to be astride a horse with five thousand Legion riders,' muttered Vanek, staring down at the massed ranks of the infantry as they surged towards the fortress.
Sarvaj nodded. A cavalry charge would cut them apart like a lance slicing through pork fat. The first of the Vagrians reached the wall and the defenders took several paces back as the heavy grappling irons sailed over the ramparts, snagging tight.
'Another day begins,' said Vanek. 'You'd think they would be tired of it by now.'
Sarvaj found his mind wandering as he waited for the first enemy soldier to appear. Why would anyone want to be first? They always died. He wondered how he would feel as an attacker standing at the foot of the ladder. What did they think as they climbed towards death?
A hand reached over the ramparts, broad fingers clamping to the stone. Vanek's sword slashed down and the hand fell at Sarvaj's feet, fingers twitching. Scooping it up, he threw it over the ramparts. More warriors appeared and Sarvaj stabbed out, his blade thrusting between a man's teeth and through the back of his neck. Dragging the blade clear, he backhanded it across the throat of another climber. Already his arm was weary and the battle proper had yet to begin.
For an hour the enemy were unable to get a foothold on the ramparts; then a huge warrior forced his way to the wall west of the gate tower, opening a gap behind him. Climbers surged over the ramparts and soon a fighting wedge had formed. Gellan saw the danger and took five men from the tower to launch a blistering attack to their flank. The massive Vagrian turned and aimed a slashing blow at the tall Drenai. Gellan ducked and lunged and his blade slid into the man's side. The Vagrian grunted, but was far from finished. His blade whistled down but Gellan blocked and moved.
'I'll kill you!' screamed the Vagrian. Gellan said nothing. The man lunged but Gellan sidestepped the blade and countered with a thrust to the throat. Choking on his blood, the warrior fell, but even as he died he lashed out, though his blade cut into the leg of the man beside Gellan. The Vagrian's wedge was collapsing in on itself and Gellan forced his way closer, drawing his dagger and stabbing an enemy soldier who had just climbed into view. The man fell back to be dashed on the rocks below. From the other side of the wedge Gellan could could hear Sarvaj shouting orders for the men to close in. Slowly the Vagrians were forced back and the wall cleared – only for a new wedge to open up thirty paces to the right.
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