David Gemmell - The Winter Warriors

'I don't understand,' said Conalin.

'You should ask Nogusta. He would explain it better.'

Ulmenetha turned towards them. 'You don't need it explained, Conalin,' she said, softly. 'When you rescued Pharis it was that third instinct which came into play. And when you stood in that room in Kalizkan's house and fought against the beast.'

'It is not the same. I love Pharis and Sufia. But I do not love the queen. I would not risk death to save her.'

'It is not about her,' said Kebra. 'Not specifically, anyway. It is about many things: honour, self-worth, pride. .' he lapsed into silence.

'Would you die for me?' asked Conalin, suddenly. 'I'm hoping not to die for anyone,' said Kebra, embarrassed. Swiftly he rose and walked back to the camp. 'Yes, he would,' said Ulmenetha. 'He is a good man.' 'I don't want anyone dying for me,' the boy told her. 'I don't want it!'

Nogusta and Dagorian were sitting by the fire, studying the maps Ulmenetha had supplied. Bison was stretched out alongside them, his head resting on his arm. 'When are we going to eat?' he grumbled. 'My stomach thinks my throat's been cut.'

'Soon,' promised Nogusta. He turned back to Dagorian, and spread a second map on the ground beside the fire. The map was of etched leather, the hide stained white. Once there had been many colours, denoting woods, mountains and lakes. But these were badly faded now, and some of the etching had worn away. Even so the scale was good and both men could just make out the symbols showing the positions of forest roads and river crossings. 'I would think we are close to here,' said Nogusta, indicating an etched spear on the top right-hand corner of the map. 'The outer edge of the Forest of Lisaia. According to the map there are three bridges. Two questions arise: Are they still there, and, if they are, what effect will the spring floods have upon them? I have seen bridges under water at this time of year in the mountains.'

'I'll ride ahead and scout them tomorrow,' said Dagorian. The young man stared down at the map. 'Once we reach the high country beyond we will have to leave the wagon.' Nogusta nodded. The only other route was to journey all the way to the ghost city of Lem, and then take the coast road. This would add 80 miles to the journey. In the distance a wolf howled. The sound hung eerily in the air. Dagorian shivered.

Nogusta smiled. 'Contrary to popular belief wolves do not attack men,' he said.

'I know. But it chills the blood nonetheless.'

'I was bitten by a wolf once,' said Bison. 'On the arse.'

'One can only pity the wolf,' said Nogusta.

Bison chuckled. 'It was a she-wolf and I got too close to her cubs, I guess. She chased me for half a mile. You remember? It was back at Corteswain. Kebra did the stitching. I had a fever for four days.'

'I remember,' said Nogusta. 'We all drew lots and Kebra lost. He says the sight haunts him to this day.'

'Left a nasty scar,' said Bison. Rolling to his knees he dropped his leggings. 'Look at that!' he said, pointing his buttocks towards Dagorian. The officer laughed aloud.

'You are quite right, Bison. That's one of the ugliest things I've ever seen.' Bison hauled up his leggings and buckled his belt. He was grinning broadly.

'I tell all the whores it's a war wound from a Ventrian spear.' He swung towards Kebra. 'Are we going to eat or starve to death?' he bawled.

Some way back, sitting with her back to a tree, Axiana accepted a cup of water from Pharis. The slim, dark-haired girl squatted down before the queen. 'Are you feeling better now?' she asked.

'I am hungry,' said Axiana. 'Fetch me something from the wagon. Some fruit.'

Pharis was delighted to obey. The order made her a servant of the queen, an honourable role, and she was determined to fulfil it well. She ran to the wagon and rummaged in the food sacks. Little Sufia was sitting there, unmoving, her eyes staring up at the sky.

'What are you looking at?' asked Pharis.

The little girl took a deep breath. 'Fetch Nogusta,' she said, her voice cool and distant.

'He's talking to the officer. I'd better not disturb him.'

'Fetch him now,' said Sufia. Pharis looked hard at the little girl.

'What is wrong?'

'Do it now, child, for time is short.' Pharis felt goose-flesh upon her arms, and backed away.

'Nogusta!' she called. 'Come quickly!' The black warrior ran across to the wagon, followed by Dagorian and Kebra.

'What is it?' he asked. Pharis simply pointed to the small blonde child. She was sitting cross-legged facing them, her face serene, her blue eyes bright.

'The wolves are coming,' said Sufia. 'Draw your swords! Do it now!' Although the voice was that of the child, the words were spoken with great authority.

Suddenly the queen screamed.

A huge grey wolf padded from the trees, then another. And another.

One raced forward, straight at Bison, who was sitting beside the fire. The giant reared up and, as the gleaming fangs darted towards his throat, hammered a blow to the wolf's face. The beast spun away, rolled, and attacked again. As it leapt Bison grabbed it by the throat and hurled it at the pack. Nogusta grabbed Pharis and threw her onto the wagon, then drew his sword as a wolf leapt for him. The blade flashed in the moonlight, slashing through the beast's neck. Kebra was hurled to the ground as another beast lunged at him. One of the horses screamed and went down. Dagorian lanced his blade through the chest of a huge grey male, then swung towards Axiana. She was sitting by the tree, and not one of the beasts approached her. Conalin and Ulmenetha had waded into the lake, and one of the beasts was swimming out towards them. Another wolf leapt. Dagorian jumped backwards, the fangs snapping at his face. Thrusting up his sword he plunged it into the wolf's belly. On the ground beside him, his left hand gripping the fur of a wolf's throat, Kebra plunged his dagger again and again into the side of the beast. The wolf slumped down over him.

On the back of the wagon Sufia stood and raised her arms over her head, bringing her hands slowly together. She was chanting as she did so. Blue fire formed around her fingers. Her right arm snapped forward, pointing to the lake. A ball of fire flew from her hand, exploding against the back of the swimming wolf. It thrashed about, flames licking over its fur. Then it swam away.

Her left hand dropped and the fire flew down into the earth beside the wagon, flaring up with a tremendous flash. The wolf pack scattered and ran back into the forest.

Dagorian felt a pain in his arm. He glanced down to see blood dripping from a bite to his left forearm. He could not recall being bitten. Bison walked over to where he stood. His left ear was sliced open, blood streaming to his thick neck.

Five wolves were dead in the campsite.

Kebra pushed the body of the dead wolf to one side and rose unsteadily. For a moment no-one spoke. 'Wolves don't attack people, you said,' Bison pointed out to Nogusta. Lifting his hand to his blood-covered ear he swore.

'They do if the Entukku inspire them,' said the voice of Sufia. Ulmenetha and Conalin waded ashore and approached the wagon. Pharis was sitting against the food sacks, her knees drawn up. She was staring fearfully at the child.

'Who are you?' asked Nogusta. Sufia sat down, her little legs dangling over the tailboard.

'I am a friend, Nogusta. Of that you can be sure. I helped Dagorian back in the city, when the demons were upon him. And I rescued Ulmenetha when she sat upon the palace roof and saw the monster. I am Kalizkan the Sorcerer.'

For a moment no-one spoke. 'You are the cause of this terror,' said Nogusta, coldly.

'Indeed I am. But it was done unwittingly, and no-one feels more grief than I. But time is too short to explain. I cannot stay in this child's form for long, for it would damage her mind. So listen to me now. The enemy has sent a force against you the like of which you will never have seen. They are called the Krayakin. They are supreme warriors, but they are not immortal. Blades can cut them, but not kill them. They fear only two things, wood and water.' The child turned to Kebra. 'Your arrows can kill them, if you pierce heart or head. The others of you must fashion weapons of wood, stakes, spears, whatever you can.'