David Gemmell - The Winter Warriors

'Aye, we were!' shouted Anharat. 'But now I do not need you. Go then and die! And leave me to my victory! I hate you, brother, more than anything under the stars!'

The shining figure of Emsharas seemed to fade under the power of Anharat's rage, and his voice when he spoke again was distant. 'I am sorry that you hate me, for I have always loved you. And I know how much you want to thwart me, but think on this: With all the power you have amassed what have you achieved? The Krayakin are returned to the void, the gogarin is dead, and an army awaits you outside the temple. Once you have killed the child you will need all your power to draw back the Illohir. After that you will be merely a sorcerer. The army will kill you, and all across the world mankind will unite against our people. But you will have thwarted me. You will have made my death useless and unnecessary. It will be your final victory.'

'Then that will be enough for me!' roared Anharat.

'Will it?' asked Emsharas. 'Our people have two destinies, and both are in your hands, my brother. They can pass to a world of light, or they can return to the void. The choice is yours. My death alone could not complete the spell. But yours will. If you choose to be the third king to die then our people shall know joy. But whatever your choice I shall not remain to see it. We will never speak again. Goodbye, my twin!'

Emsharas stepped back and vanished. Anharat stood very still, and a great emptiness engulfed him. He realized in that moment what Bakilas had sensed the day before. His hatred of Emsharas was almost identical to his love. Without Emsharas there was nothing. There never had been. Throughout the last four thousand years thoughts of Emsharas, and the revenge he would know, had filled his mind. But he had never desired his brother's death. Not to lose him for all time.

'I love you too, my brother,' he said. He looked around the temple, and saw that the humans were still frozen. Against the wall a young girl had her arms around a child, and upon the dais a teenage boy stood holding a sword. Behind him the queen had turned away, shielding her baby with her body. Bakilas was close by, his sword raised. The black warrior was lying sprawled beside the dais, his blood pooling on the mosaic floor.

Anharat blinked and remembered the journeys upon the cosmic winds, when he and Emsharas had been as one, twin souls, inseparable.

To die? The thought filled him with terror. To lose eternity? And yet what joy would there be in immortality now?

Then the music of the chimes began to fade, and the humans started to move.

Conalin watched the beast as it landed on the mosaic floor. 'You have only moments to live, child,' said Anharat. 'I shall tear out your heart.' The beast seemed to flicker for a moment, then it moved slowly forward, towering above the boy. Suddenly it dropped down, arms outstretched, its huge dark head lunging forward. Conalin leapt, plunging the sword deep into the thick, black neck. The talons swept down and settled over Conalin's shoulder. But they did not pierce the skin. Gently the beast pushed Conalin aside. Cream-coloured ichor spilled from the wound as the sword was torn free. Anharat dragged himself up onto the dais. Conalin hacked at his back, the blade slashing open the skin. The demon crawled past the queen and hauled himself up onto the altar. Twisting he spread his wings and lay back. Conalin jumped up and holding his sword with both hands drove it down into Anharat's chest. The boy stared down into the demon's eyes. Only then did he realize that the creature had made no move to attack him.

Confused, Conalin released the sword. Anharat's taloned fingers curled round the hilt. But he made no attempt to draw it forth.

'Emsharas!' whispered the demon.

A black shadow moved alongside Conalin. He swung to see the armoured knight moving towards the queen.

'No!' he shouted. With no weapon he sprang at the knight. A mailed fist hit him with a back handed blow that spun him from his feet.

Bakilas struggled on, the Storm Sword still thrust deep in his belly. Clinging to life he raised his blade. Axiana backed away. 'Do not harm my son,' she pleaded. Twenty feet away Nogusta pushed himself to his knees and drew a knife. His arm snapped forward. The blade flashed through the air, plunging deep into Bakilas's left eye. The Krayakin staggered back, then dragged the knife clear, hurling it to the floor. Nogusta tried to draw another. Then he passed out.

The sound of galloping hoofs filled the air. Bakilas turned to see a horseman with a cloak of fire bearing down upon him. Desperately he swung towards the queen and made one last attempt to reach her. Antikas Karios lifted the Storm Sword high and threw it with all his strength. The blade scythed through the air and slammed through Bakilas's neck. The Krayakin crumpled and fell across the body of Anharat.

Casting aside the blazing cloak Antikas leapt from Starfire. The horse's mane was aflame and the warrior smothered the fire with his hands. The gelding was burned across the lower body, and his legs were blistered and bleeding. Antikas himself had injuries to his arms and hands, and the skin over his cheek bone showed a vivid red burn.

Upon the dais Anharat's body began to glow with a brilliant, blinding light which filled the temple. Temporarily blinded Antikas fell to his knees, his hands over his face.

Behind him he could hear the pounding of feet, and guessed the pillars of fire had vanished.

Hands grabbed him, hauling him upright. He opened his eyes. At first he could see only vague shapes. But then he saw the face of the White Wolf swim into focus.

'That was a fine ride,' said Banelion. Antikas gazed upon the altar. There was no sign now of the Demon Lord, nor of the dead Krayakin. Both had vanished.

Conalin ran to where Nogusta lay, and knelt down beside him. 'I killed it,' he said. 'I killed the beast!'

Nogusta gave a weak smile. 'You did well, my friend. I… am proud of you.' He took the boy's hand and lifted it to the talisman. 'What… do… you see?' he asked, his voice weak and fading.

Conalin closed his eyes. 'I see a strange land, with purple mountains. The Krayakin are there. They are bewildered.'

'What. . else?'

'I see a woman. She is tall and black and beautiful.'

Nogusta leaned against the boy. 'I… see her too,' he said. Kebra ran forward and threw himself down by Nogusta's side.

'Don't you dare die on me!' he said.

Nogusta released Conalin's hand and gripped Kebra's arm. 'No. . choice,' he whispered. 'Take Starfire.. back to the mountains.'

'Ulmenetha!' shouted Kebra.

'I am here,' she said. Conalin moved back and allowed the priestess to kneel beside the dying man.

'You can heal him,' said Kebra. 'Lay your hands on him.'

'I cannot heal him,' she said. 'Not now.'

Kebra looked down into Nogusta's dead eyes. 'Oh no,' he said. 'You can't leave me like this! Nogusta!' Tears fell to his cheeks. 'Nogusta!' Ulmenetha leaned over and closed the bright blue eyes. Kebra hugged the body to him, cradling the head. Ulmenetha moved back, and, as Conalin tried to reach Kebra she took hold of his arm and drew him away.

'Leave them together for a little while,' she said.

'I just wanted to tell him what I saw. He found his wife. On a world with two moons.'

'I know.' Ulmenetha walked to where Starfire was standing. The horse was shivering, and in great pain. She stroked his neck, then went to work on his wounds, healing the blisters and the burns. The worst of the wounds was in his right eye, which was almost blinded. But this too she healed.

Antikas approached her. 'He is a great horse,' he said. 'Nogusta was right.'

'Let me heal your burns,' she said, reaching up towards his blistered face. He shook his head.