David Gemmell - Waylander

But one remained.

It would be enough, Kaem decided.

Karnak watched the flames rearing high above the ridge and scanned the broken ground beyond for sign of Gellan. He did not expect to see him, yet the hope remained.

In terms of the future – if there was to be a future – it was probably just as well that Gellan had died. He would never have made a good follower; he was too independent of mind to slavishly align himself to any leader. And yet Karnak knew he would miss him; he was the thorn in the rose which reminds a man the flesh is weak.

'It looks like two fires,' said Dundas, moving alongside the general.

'Yet. Jonat says there are three ballistae.'

'Still, two was a fine effort by a single man.'

'One man can do anything if he sets his heart on it,' said Karnak softly.

'We lost three hundred men today, general.'

Karnak nodded. 'Egel will be here soon.'

'You cannot believe that.'

'We will hold until he gets here, Dundas. We have no choice. Tell Jonat he must take Gellan's place.'

'Sarvaj is the senior man.'

'I know who the senior man is. Put Jonat in charge.'

'Yes, sir,' Dundas walked away, but Karnak stopped him.

'In peacetime I wouldn't put Jonat in charge of stable clearance. But this is a game of death.'

'Yes, sir.'

Karnak gazed from the gate tower ramparts, watching the men along the walls. Some were sitting and eating, others were spread out asleep; still more were sharpening sword-blades dulled by ceaseless combat.

Too few, he thought. He glanced back at the Keep.

Soon the hard decisions must be made.

On the wall below, Jonat sat with Sarvaj. For some while both men had watched for Gellan; now they knew he was either taken or slain.

'He was a good man,' said Sarvaj at last.

'He was a fool,' hissed Jonat. 'He didn't have to kill himself.'

'No,' agreed Sarvaj, 'but I shall miss him.'

'I won't! I couldn't care less how many officers die. I just wonder why I stay at this cursed fortress. I used to have a dream, an ambition if you like … Have you ever been up into the Skoda mountains?'

'No.'

'There are peaks there which have never been climbed; they are bathed in mist for nine months of the year. I wanted to build a home near one of those peaks – there is a glen, sheltered, where horses could be raised. I know about horses. I like horses.'

'I'm glad to hear there's something you like.'

'I like a lot of things, Sarvaj. But not many people.'

'Gellan liked you.'

'Stop it! I don't want to hear any more about Gellan. You understand?'

'I don't think that I do.'

'Because I care. Does that satisfy you? Is that what you wanted to hear? I am sorry that he's gone. There! And … I don't want to talk about it.'

Sarvaj removed his helmet and leaned back against the cold stone. 'I had a dream once too. There was a girl back in Drenan – bright, talented and available. Her father owned a fleet of traders which sailed from Mashrapur to the east. I was going to marry her and become a merchant.'

'What happened?'

'She married someone else.'

'Did she not love you?'

'She said she did.'

'You were better off without her.'

Sarvaj chuckled. 'Does this look like better off?'

'At least you are among friends,' said Jonat, extending his hand. Sarvaj took it.

'I always wanted to die among friends.'

'Well, that is one ambition you'll achieve.

Danyal had been riding for four days across rough open country. In that time she had seen no one but now, as she rode through thick forest, she knew she was not alone. In the undergrowth to her right she had seen a dark shadow, moving from the thick cover and darting between the trees.

She had spurred her horse away, the pack pony following.

But still the shadower stayed in touch. She rarely caught more than a glimpse of him, but he moved with great speed and supernatural silence.

The light was fading and Danyal's fears grew. Her mouth was dry, but her hands were slick with sweat. She wished Waylander were here – or even Durmast.

Momentarily her fear eased as her last conversation with Durmast rose in her mind.

When they had travelled for some five miles, they had come across the party of warriors in black armour. Durmast had cursed and reached for his battleaxe, but they had ridden by with scarcely a glance at the two travellers.

Durmast's anger had been a sight to behold.

'They ignored me,' he had said.

'I'm glad,' she had told him. 'Did you want to fight them?'

'They were Brotherhood warriors seeking the Armour. They can read minds and they know we have it.'

'Then why did they not take it?'

He had dismounted and walked to a nearby rock where he sat and stared at the now distant mountain of Raboas.

Danyal joined him. 'We cannot stay here. Waylander is risking his life to give us time.'

'They knew,' said Durmast.

'Knew what?'

'They knew my thoughts.'

'I do not understand you.'

'You know what I am, Danyal … what I have been. There is no real strength in me except what I have in the muscles of this over-large body. I am a wretch, always have been. Take the Armour and go-'

'And what will you do?'

'I'll travel east – maybe go to Ventria. They say it is a rare experience to view the Opal Mountains in winter.'

'I cannot get through alone.'

'You don't understand, do you? I'll betray you, Danyal, and steal the Armour. It's worth a fortune.'

'You gave your word.'

'My word isn't worth pig-droppings.'

'You are going back to help Waylander.'

Durmast laughed. 'Do I look stupid? That would be the act of a madman. Go on. Ride! Go before I change my mind.'

As the days passed Danyal had hoped to see Waylander riding the back trail. She would not accept that he might be dead – could not accept it. He was strong. Invincible. No one could bring him down. She remembered the day when he had stood against the warriors in the forest. One man standing strong in the fading light, the red glow all around him. And he had won. He always won – he could not be dead.

She jerked back to the present as tears blurred her vision, blinking hard. The path was narrow and the darkness was gathering; she was loth to camp, but the horses were tired. Glancing to her right, she peered into the undergrowth, but there was no sign of the other traveller. Perhaps it had been a bear hunting for food. Perhaps her imagination had fuelled her fear.

Danyal rode on until she heard the sound of running water and then made camp by a shallow stream, determined to stay awake through the night, sword in hand.

She awoke with the dawn and stretched. Swiftly she washed in the icy stream, the water stinging the sleep from her. Then she tightened the saddle cinch of her mare and mounted. Durmast had told her to steer south-east until she reached the river. There was a ferry – cross that and head due south to Delnoch Pass.

The forest was silent as she rode and the day warm and close.

Four Nadir riders came into sight and Danyal jerked on the reins, her heart pounding as they came closer. One of them had a dead antelope roped across his saddle and the others carried bows. The lead rider halted before her.

'You are blocking the path,' he said.

Danyal steered the mare to the left and the men rode on.

That night she lit a small fire and fell asleep within seconds.

She awoke just after midnight to see a towering figure sitting by the fire, feeding branches to the flames. As silently as she could, she drew her dagger and pushed back the blanket. His back was to her, his naked skin shining in the moonlight – he was big, and would dwarf even Durmast. She moved to her feet. He turned …

And she found herself staring into a single dreadful eye about a slitted nose and a fang-rimmed slash of a mouth.