David Gemmell - The Swords of Night and Day

‘Do you fear returning to it?’

‘Would it make a difference?’ he responded. ‘I do not fear the inevitable.’

‘Druss said he would take Charis to the Golden Valley,’ said Harad.

‘Then he will,’ said Skilgannon. ‘Be assured of that.’

‘I wish that I had been killed with her,’ said Harad. ‘We would be together then.’

‘One day you will be together,’ said the woman.

That day will be soon, thought Memnon. Judging by the distance his spirit had travelled it would take the Shadows no more than three nights to reach them. Memnon was about to return to his body when the woman spoke again, this time to Skilgannon.

‘Do you regret loving the Eternal?’

He smiled. ‘One fact I learned in my life is that we should never regret love. In many ways it is what defines us. In that respect I have been lucky. I have been loved, and I have loved. Ultimately that is all that counts. The dreams of men all come to dust. If I did not know that in my first life, I know it now.

Nothing remains of the world I knew — not even its history. All is fable and shadow.’

‘The Eternal remains,’ she said.

‘For now,’ he told her.

‘You really believe we can end her reign?’

‘Askari, there are many areas of my life which have fallen short of what could have been. There were -

and there are — men more clever, more powerful, more wise than I. But I have never been defeated in life or in war. Ustarte — whom you call the Blessed Priestess — said I would change this world. And I trust her wisdom.’

Arrogant man, thought Memnon, but then he looked into the sapphire eyes.

And felt a stab of fear.

Gilden rode down the slope and onto the flatland. The troop was some little way behind him, and Gilden had volunteered to scout ahead. Some way ahead was a thick, wooded area that could conceal enemy troops. Gilden rode slowly towards it, his bow in his left hand, an arrow notched. As he approached the trees the wind changed. His mount’s ears pricked up, and it veered to the left. Calming the horse he stared into the wood. At first there was nothing to be seen. Then came a movement, as the undergrowth rustled. A Jiamad stepped out, and stood staring at the rider. It was a big beast, maybe seven and a half feet tall, with a massive breadth of shoulder. Gently pulling back on the reins Gilden walked his horse backwards, creating space between himself and the monster. Over short distances a Jiamad could run down a horse. Another Jiamad appeared. Then another. They made no hostile move towards him, but they watched him. None of them were wearing baldrics, or other indications of army apparel. It was likely they were runaways.

Suddenly a familiar voice called out: ‘Is that you, Gilden?’ Before he could answer he saw the young merchant, Stavut, emerge from the trees. He strolled past the beasts and out into the open. ‘Good to see you. Is Alahir with you?’

It was like a dream. There was no sense to it. ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Gilden, staring at the merchant. His clothes were filthy, and stained with what looked like dried blood. He was unshaven, but as jaunty as ever.

‘It is a long story. You can relax. Not one of my lads will attack you.’

‘Your lads?’

‘As I said, it is a long story. I’ve been teaching them how to hunt.’

Gilden’s horse backed away as more Jiamads emerged from the trees. Gilden watched them. There were over forty beasts. ‘These are all yours?’

‘Not mine exactly. They are free, you see.’

‘Oh, yes, I see. I also see you have blood on your clothes. Did you get that bringing down a deer, Stavut?’

Stavut sighed. ‘No. We were in a battle. We killed the soldiers who had massacred some villagers. It was not pretty.’

‘Why don’t you climb up behind me, Stavut?’ said Gilden softly. ‘I’ll ride you away from here. We’ll see Alahir together.’

‘Can’t leave my lads,’ said Stavut. ‘Did you know there is an army marching from the south? We saw them. Must be twenty, thirty thousand strong. That’s why we are moving north. Keeping out of their way.’

If Gilden had been surprised to find Stavut with a pack of beasts he was even more amazed moments later. Two huge Jiamads came into sight, pulling Stavut’s wagon behind them. They paused at the tree line. Stavut turned. ‘Wolves killed my horses,’ he said.

‘I don’t understand any of this,’ admitted Gilden. ‘I think you should ride with me. You may think these beasts are tame, Stavut, but you are in great danger. You can’t trust them. They are vermin.’

‘Vermin? Did you know they don’t even like killing people?’ said Stavut, his eyes angry. ‘We don’t taste good. They kill us because they are bred to do that, trained to do that, ordered to do that. By men.

Vermin? We are the vermin, Gilden. I am not in danger from them. Go and tell Alahir we need to talk.

We’ll wait here.’

Gilden took a deep breath. ‘You are not thinking straight, boy. Our job is to kill these monsters. What do you think is going to happen when Alahir gets here? You think he’s going to talk? Of course he isn’t.

He hates these beasts as much as any of us. Come on, Stavut! See sense. Just ride with me.’

‘I would be glad to see Alahir. He is my friend. As you are, Gilden. I wanted to tell him of the army’s approach. However, you can do that. I shall stay with my lads.’ Stavut turned, as if to walk away. Then he swung back. ‘We will do you no harm. We are merely moving north. You come after us, Gilden, and you will regret it.’

‘You are siding with them against us? Are you mad?’

‘Put up your bow and ride away, Gilden.’

‘You know we will be back.’

‘I’ll tell you what I know,’ hissed Stavut. ‘I know your patrols usually number around fifty men . I have fifty Jiamads . Now it may just be that you Legend Riders are all great heroes, with the strength of ten.

But we just wiped out around your number of the Eternal’s soldiers. Killed them all. We lost no-one.

Come after us at your peril.’

‘You would send these beasts against your friends?’ said Gilden, aghast. He looked into Stavut’s eyes, and saw they were glittering strangely.

‘You come after my lads,’ the merchant said, ‘and I’ll rip your heart out myself.’

‘I shall remember that, renegade, when next we meet,’ said Gilden, tugging on the reins and riding back to the hills.

Skilgannon could scarce believe it when he saw the horse. It was pure white and beautiful, strong-limbed, with powerful hindquarters. Its neck was long, its eyes fierce and proud. It was standing with six other mounts, all saddled, with no riders in sight.

Telling Askari and Harad to remain where they were, for fear of causing the horses to bolt, Skilgannon walked slowly down the hillside towards them. He could not take his eyes off the white stallion. He had not seen such a horse in this world, and knew instantly it was a Ventrian purebred. In his own time it would have cost hundreds of gold raq. It was a mount for princes, kings or conquerors.

As he approached he saw all the horses staring at him, ears pulled back. Slowly he sat upon the grass and began to speak to them, in a soft, soothing voice. ‘How is it that you are here, my beauties?’ he said.

‘And where are the lucky men who rode you? Hmmm?’ Reaching down he tugged a handful of long grass from the earth, then another. Keeping his movements slow and un-threatening he angled towards the horses, holding out the grass. ‘You should be eating grain,’ he said, ‘but this will have to suffice.’ His easy manner calmed them, though the great white stallion — he estimated almost seventeen hands tall -