Legend - David Gemmell

"I know."

They talked for hours, but the moon shone from the same place and the stars were static, the night eternal. Finally she kissed him to stem his words.

"There are others you must see."

He tried to argue, but she held her fingers to his mouth. "We will meet again, my love. For now, speak to the others."

Around the walls was now a mist, swirling and thick. Overhead the moon shone in a cloudless sky. She walked into the mist and was gone. He waited and soon a figure in silver armour came towards him. As always he looked fresh and alert, his armour reflected the moonlight and his white cloak was spotless. He smiled.

"Well met, Rek," said Serbitar. They clasped hands in the warrior's grip.

"The Sathuli came," said Rek. "You held the gate just long enough."

"I know. Tomorrow will be hard, and I will not lie to you. All futures have I seen, and in only one do you survive the day. But there are forces here which I cannot explain to you and even now their magic is at work. Fight well!"

"Will Woundweaver arrive?" asked Rek.

Serbitar shrugged. "Not tomorrow."

"Then we will fall?"

"It is likely. But if you do not, I want you to do something for me."

"Name it," said Rek.

"Go once more to Egel's room where there is a last gift for you. The servant Arshin will explain."

"What is it? Is it a weapon. I could use it tomorrow."

"It is not a weapon. Go there tomorrow night."

"Serbitar?"

"Yes, my friend."

"Was all as you dreamed it would be? The Source, I mean?"

"Yes! And so much more. But I cannot speak of it now. Wait for a while longer. There is another who must speak with you."

The mist deepened and Serbitar's white form drew back until he merged and was gone.

And Druss was there. Mighty and strong, his black jerkin glistening, his axe at his side.

"He gave me a fine send-off," said Druss. "How are you, boy? You look tired."

"I am tired, but all the better for seeing you."

Druss clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

"That Nogusha used a poisoned blade on me. I tell you, laddie, it hurt like hell. Caessa dressed me. I don't know how she got me to my feet. Still… she did."

"I saw it," said Rek.

"Aye, a grand exit, was it not? That young lad Gilad fought well. I have not seen him yet, but I expect I shall. You're a good boy, Rek. Worthy! It was good to know you."

"And you, Druss. I never met a better man."

"Of course you did, boy. Hundreds! But it's nice of you to say it. However, I didn't come here to exchange compliments. I know what you are facing and I know tomorrow will be hard — damned hard. But don't give ground. Do not retreat to the Keep — whatever happens, hold the wall. Much rests on it. Keep Joachim beside you; if he dies, you are finished. I must go. But remember. Hold the wall. Do not retreat to the Keep."

"I will remember. Goodbye, Druss."

"Not goodbye. Not yet," said Druss. "Soon."

The mist moved forward, enveloping the axeman and sweeping over Rek. Then the moonlight faded and dark descended on the Earl of Bronze.

Back in the Keep, Rek awoke. The fire still burned and he was hungry again.

In the kitchens Arshin was preparing breakfast.

The old man was tired, but he brightened when Rek walked in.

He liked the new Earl and remembered when Virae's father, Delnar, had been a young man, proud and strong. There seemed a similarity, but perhaps — Arshin thought — the long years had distorted his memory.

He handed the Earl some toasted bread and honey which he wolfed down, following it with watered wine.

Back in his quarters, Rek buckled his armour into place and made his way to the battlements. Hogun and Orrin were already there, supervising the barricade within the gate tunnel.

"This is the weak spot," said Orrin. "We should retire to the Keep. At least the gates will hold for some hours."

Rek shook his head. "We will stand on Geddon. There must be no retreat."

"Then we shall die here," said Hogun. "For that barricade will hold them not at all."

"Perhaps," said Rek. "We shall see. Good morning, Joachim Sathuli."

The bearded warrior nodded and smiled. "You slept well, Earl of Bronze?"

"Well indeed. I thank you for giving us this day of your time."

"It is nothing. The payment of a small debt."

"You owe me nothing. But I tell you this, if we survive this day there shall be no more war between us. The rights to the high Delnoch passes are mine, though you dispute the rights of the Drenai to them. Therefore, before these witnesses, I give them to you.

"There is also a scroll bearing my seal at the Keep. When you leave tonight, you shall have it. A copy will go to Abalayn in Drenan.

"I know that the gesture will have little meaning if the Nadir win through today — but it is all I can do."

Joachim bowed. "The gesture is enough in itself."

The talk ceased as the Nadir drums sounded and the warriors of Dros Delnoch spread out along the wall to receive the attackers. Rek lowered his helm visor and drew the sword of Egel. Below, in the barricaded gate tunnel, stood Orrin and one hundred warriors. The tunnel was only twenty feet wide at the centre and Orrin reckoned to hold it for the greater part of the morning. After that, with the barricades torn down, the sheer weight of the Nadir horde would push them back into the open ground behind the ramparts.

And so the last bloody day began at Dros Delnoch.

31

Wave after wave of screaming tribesmen scaled ropes and ladders throughout the morning, finding that only cold, terrible death awaited them under the slashing swords and tulwars of the defenders. Men fell screaming to the rocks below the walls, or died trampled beneath the feet of battling men on the ramparts. Side by side, Sathuli and Drenai brought death to the Nadir.

Rek cut and slashed two-handed, the sword of Egel cleaving the ranks of the Nadir like a scythe through wheat. Beside him Joachim fought with two short swords, whirling and killing.

Below, Orrin's men were being pushed slowly back into the wider section of the tunnel, though the Nadir paid dearly for every inch of ground.

Blocking a thrusting lance, Orrin backhanded a slashing cut to a warrior's face. The man disappeared in the milling mass and another attacker took his place.

"We can't hold!" yelled a young officer to Orrin's right.

Orrin had no time to answer.

Suddenly the leading Nadir warrior screamed in horror, pushing back into his comrades. Others followed his gaze, looking back beyond the Drenai at the tunnel mouth.

A gap opened between the Drenai and the Nadir, and widened as the tribesmen turned and fled down into the open grounds between Valteri and Geddon.

"Great gods of Missael!" said the officer. "What's going on?" Orrin turned and saw what had filled the Nadir with terror.

Behind them in the darkened tunnel stood Druss the Legend, Serbitar and The Thirty. With them were many departed warriors. Druss's axe was in his hand and the joy of battle in his eyes. Orrin swallowed, then licked his lips. He replaced his sword in its scabbard at the third attempt.

"I think we will leave them to hold the tunnel," he said. The remaining men bunched behind him as he walked towards Druss.

The ghostly defenders appeared not to notice them, their eyes fixed on the tunnel beyond. Orrin tried to speak to Druss, but the old man just stared ahead. When Orrin reached out a shaking hand and tried to touch the axeman, his hand met nothing — only cold, cold air.

"Let us get back to the wall," he said. He closed his eyes and walked blindly through the ranks of the spirits. By the time he reached the tunnel mouth he was shivering. The other men with him said nothing.

No one looked back.

He joined Rek on the wall and the battle continued. Moments later, during a brief lull, Rek shouted: "What's happening in the tunnel?"

"Druss is there," replied Orrin. Rek merely nodded and turned again as fresh Nadir warriors breasted the ramparts.

Bowman, bearing short sword and buckler, fought beside Hogun. Though not as skilled with the blade as with the bow, he was no mean warrior.

Hogun blocked an axe blow — and his sword snapped. The axe head crushed his shoulder, burying itself in his chest. He hammered the broken sword into the belly of the axeman and fell with him to the ground.

A lance licked out, spearing the Legion general's back as he struggled to rise. Bowman's short sword disembowelled the lancer, but more Nadir pressed forward and Hogun's body was lost in the mêlée.

By the gate tower Joachim Sathuli fell, his side pierced by a thrown-spear. Rek half-carried him beyond the ramparts, but had to leave him, for the Nadir had almost broken through. Joachim gripped the spear with both hands, sweat breaking out on his forehead, and examined the wound. The point had passed through just above the right hip, and broken the skin of his back. The head, he knew, was barbed and there would be no drawing it out. He gripped the spear more firmly, rolled to his side then pushed it further into the wound until the whole of the spear-head cleared his back. He passed out for several minutes, but the gentle touch of a hand roused him. A Sathuli warrior named Andisim was beside him.

"Remove the head of the spear," Joachim hissed. "Quickly!"

Wordlessly the man took his dagger and as gently as possible levered the spear-head from the shaft. At last it was done. "Now," whispered Joachim "pull the shaft clear." Standing above him, the man slowly withdrew the spear as Joachim grunted against the agony. Blood gushed out, but Joachim ripped his robe and plugged the wound, allowing Andisim to do the same for the hole in his back.

"Get me to my feet," he ordered, "and fetch me a tulwar."

Beyond the walls of Eldibar, within his tent, Ulric watched the sands fall in the huge glass. Beside him was the scroll he had received that morning from the north.

His nephew Jahingir had declared himself Kan — overlord of the north. He had slain Ulric's brother, Tsubodi, and taken Ulric's mistress Hasita as hostage.

Ulric could not blame him and felt no anger. His family were born to lead and blood ran true among them.

But he could not dally here and so had set the glass. If the wall had not fallen by the time the sand ran out, he would lead his army north again, win back his kingdom and return to take Dros Delnoch on another day.

He had received the message about Druss holding the tunnel and had shrugged. Alone once more, he had smiled.

So, not even Paradise can keep you from the battle, old man!

Outside his tent stood three men bearing rams' horns, waiting for his signal. And the sands flowed on.

On the wall of Geddon the Nadir broke through to the right. Rek screamed for Orrin to follow him and cut a path along the ramparts. To the left more Nadir gained the ramparts and the Drenai fell back, leaping to the grass and re-forming. The Nadir swarmed forward.

The day was lost.

Sathuli and Drenai waited, swords ready, as the Nadir massed before them. Bowman and Orrin stood beside Rek, and Joachim Sathuli limped towards them.

"I'm glad we are only offering you one day," grunted Joachim, clutching the bloody bandage wedged into his side.

The Nadir spread out before them and charged.

Rek leaned on his sword blade, breathing deeply and saving what was left of his strength. There was no longer the energy inside him to promote a baresark rage, nor the will.

All his life he had feared this moment, and now that it was upon him it was as meaningless as dust upon the ocean. Wearily he focused his gaze on the charging warriors.

"I say, old horse," muttered Bowman, "do you think it's too late to surrender?"

Rek grinned. "Just a little," he said. His hands curled around the sword hilt, he twisted his wrist and the blade hissed into the air.

The front ranks of the Nadir were less than twenty paces from them when the sound of distant rams' horns echoed up from the valley.

The charge slowed…

And stopped. Less than ten paces apart, both sides stood listening to the insistent wailing.

Ogasi cursed and spat, sheathing his sword. He stared sullenly into the astonished eyes of the Earl of Bronze. Rek removed his helm and plunged his sword into the ground before him as Ogasi stepped forward.

"It is over!" he said. He lifted his arm, waving the Nadir back to the walls. Then he turned. "Know this, you round-eyed bastard, it was I, Ogasi, who slew your wife."

It took a few seconds for the words to register, then Rek took a deep breath and removed his gauntlets.

"Do you think it matters, amid all this," said Rek, "to know who fired one arrow? You want me to remember you? I shall. You want me to hate you? I cannot. Maybe tomorrow. Or next year. Maybe never."

For a moment Ogasi stood silent, then he shrugged.

"The arrow was meant for you," he said, weariness settling on him like a dark cloak. Turning on his heel, he followed the departing warriors. Silently they climbed down the ladders and ropes — none took the path through the gate tunnel.

Rek unbuckled his breastplate and walked slowly to the tunnel mouth. Coming towards him was Druss and The Thirty. Rek lifted a hand in greeting, but a wind blew and the warriors vanished into mist and were gone.

"Goodbye, Druss," he said softly.

Later that evening Rek bade farewell to the Sathuli and slept for several hours, hoping for another meeting with Virae. He awoke refreshed — but disappointed.

Arshin brought him food and he ate with Bowman and Orrin. They said little. Calvar Syn and his orderlies had found Hogun's body, and the surgeon was labouring to save the hundreds of wounded men now being carried to the Geddon hospital.

Rek made his way to his room around midnight and removed his armour; then he remembered Serbitar's gift. He was too tired to care, but sleep would not come so he rose and dressed, took a torch from a wall bracket and made his way slowly down into the bowels of the Keep. The door to Egel's room was closed once more, but it opened to him as before.

The lights blazed within as Rek placed his torch against the wall and stepped inside. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed on the crystal block. Within it lay Virae! Upon her body was no mark, no arrow wound; she lay naked and peaceful, seemingly asleep, floating within the transparent crystal. He walked to the block, reached inside and touched her. She did not stir and her body was cold. Stooping, he lifted her clear and placed her on a nearby table. Then he removed his cloak, wrapped it around her and lifted her again. Gathering up the torch he made his slow way back to his room above the Keep hall.

He summoned Arshin and the old retainer blanched as he saw the still form of the Earl's wife. He looked at Rek, then gazed at the floor.

"I am sorry, my lord. I do not know why the white-haired one placed her body in the magic crystal."

"What happened?" asked Rek.