David Gemmell - Knights of Dark Renown

‘I was dreaming,’ she said.

‘Are you happy still?’

‘You fool,’ she answered. She rose swiftly and ran to the stream and he followed her, watching her bathe. ‘Come in,’ she called.

‘It looks cold.’

‘The great Llaw Gyffes fears a little cold water? Come in.’

He waded in alongside her and sat down. ‘Gods of Heaven!’ he exclaimed. She laughed and splashed his chest and face; he grabbed her and they rolled under the water.

‘I surrender,’ she shouted as they surfaced. ‘Truly.’

He said nothing and pulled her in to his embrace. ‘You should have come to me long ago,’ he whispered.

‘I did, Llaw, but you were not ready. Will you regret this day?’

‘Never.’

‘Good. Now get dressed and go back to your Knights — all of them.’

His face darkened. ‘I cannot face the man. I think if I did, I would kill him.’

‘You are too strong for that. Trust me, Llaw. In this, I think I know you better.’

He stood and shivered. Arian grasped his arm and hauled herself upright. Sensing his changing mood, she remained silent, following him back to the fire. He dressed swiftly and started to walk back to his horse which was tethered to the root of a nearby beech. But he stopped and looked back; then suddenly he grinned. ‘Will you ride with me, my lady?’

She pulled on her tunic and trews, gathered her boots and knife and ran to him.

He left her in the village and rode back for the cave. The other Knights were sitting with Elodan and Lamfhada. Llaw dismounted and tethered his horse. No one spoke as he joined the circle and looked across at the Duke of Mactha.

‘I am Llaw Gyffes,’ he said, extending his hand.

‘I am Roem. I am pleased to meet you,’ responded the other, taking his hand and gripping it firmly.

‘Now the new Order is complete,’ said Lamfhada, ‘and it is time to prepare for the Day of Blood. Nuada is carrying our banner to all the settlements of the forest. Morrigan and Groundsel are seeking allies close to Pertia Port. The King’s army is almost ready to move. They will be at our southern borders within ten days; we must be ready to oppose them.’

‘How many men do we have?’ Roem asked.

‘Close to two hundred now, but the numbers are swelling daily. Nuada’s prowess has rarely been put to better use.’

‘The King has ten thousand men,’ said Roem. ‘Two thousand lancers, six thousand foot-soldiers, fifteen hundred archers, and five hundred scouts, used to the ways of the forest. You cannot hold them with two hundred, nor a thousand.’

Elodan raised his hand. ‘It is not important that we have a large army, only that the King thinks we have. Now Lamfhada says he has placed a spell over the forest and the Seers of the King cannot breach it. That being the case, all the King has to go on is that his five hundred lancers have been wiped out. I do not think he will immediately venture into the forest in force. He will send in his scouts and then advance slowly. We must eliminate those scouts.’

‘That sounds plausible,’ said Errin, ‘but do we fight a holding action from now until the King dies of old age? Somewhere there must be a conclusive encounter.’

‘Indeed there must, and we must recognize the opportunity when it arises,’ answered Elodan. ‘But until then, as the weaker side, we must hit and run — strike them where we can — make them think they are facing a force ten… twenty times greater than we are. And all the time we will be growing.’

Llaw spoke. ‘There is something else to consider: supplies. We have the forest and the deer, and sheep are plentiful. The King has ten thousand men and they will need to be supplied from the south. We must have a raiding force behind their lines. Empty bellies make for discontent.’

‘I will lead that force,’ said Roem. ‘It is my Duchy and I know all the roads. Give me fifty men; we will live off the land and force them to send back troops.’

‘You will be alone,’ Lamfhada pointed out. ‘We cannot support you.’

‘Do not fear for me, Armourer. I am not ready to die yet.’

‘Very well,’ agreed Elodan. ‘Select your fifty men and train them; you have ten days.’

‘What of the rest of us?’ asked Manannan.

‘Your day is coming,’ said Lamfhada, looking away.

Morrigan sat under the stars, her memories vivid and painful. Her love for Samildanach seemed from another age, when the world was young and innocence a joy. Her six years in the City of the Vyre had drenched that innocence in blood and lust and depravity. She could no longer recall the numbers of men and women who had shared her bed, nor see all the faces. All she could remember clearly was the taste of the Ambria, and the surging strength it brought to her limbs. She had told Manannan that Samildanach had tired of her, but it was not strictly true. Faced with the myriad pleasures of the Vyre they had drifted apart — seeking new sensations, more pleasure and pain.

Now Manannan claimed to love her. But he did not know… he loved the woman who once had been. She shivered as the night wind rolled down from the snow-covered peaks.

The general had died swiftly, his body shrivelling as his life filled her. He had not even known he was dying. She had left the empty hide-covered sack of bones where they fell. How soon would she need to feed again? A day? Two days?

She could hear Groundsel snoring by the fire. Detestable little man! You will be next, she promised herself. But then what? Manannan? Llaw Gyffes? Or merely another innocent stranger, like the man with the injured knee?

Was life so enchanting that she could not bear to leave it?

She knew the answer. Of course it was. To see and hear, to breathe and feel — how could anyone bear to die?

‘Can’t you sleep?’ asked Groundsel, sitting up and running his fingers across his scalp. ‘Damned lice,’ he said. ‘Nothing shifts them.’

‘Try bathing once in a while.’

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

‘I am thinking.’

‘Do you never sleep? How do you manage to keep your strength?’

‘I draw it from the company of men, Groundsel. Strangely, I am feeling rather weak at the moment.’

He grinned at her. That’s the first time I’ve seen any sign of humour from you, Morrigan. Perhaps you are beginning to like me. Why don’t we start afresh? Come and join me; I’ll give you a little strength.’

‘Beware, Groundsel. I might just do that.’

He yawned and stood. She turned away as he urinated against a tree. ‘Who are we supposed to see?’ he asked.

‘The leader is a man called Bucklar. You should like him, Groundsel — he has built his kingdom the way you built yours, on blood and murder. I think that’s why Elodan thought you were the man to accompany me. You think Bucklar will send men to aid Llaw’s army?’

‘That depends. If he feels threatened by the King, then he will. If he thinks he’s safe, he’ll wait — and when the other forest leaders send men, he’ll attack their lands and extend his power.’

‘It is doubly important, then, that he helps us. For without him the other leaders will also hold back.’

‘True, lady.’ He began to climb into his leggings.

‘I thought you wanted me,’ said Morrigan, rising and striding towards him.

‘I did,’ Groundsel said, grinning. ‘But you didn’t say please. Dawn’s coming up; we should be moving.’

Samildanach walked to the coffin and gazed down on the face of his oldest friend. His anger had gone and he was aware of a terrible emptiness deep within him. He knew that he had loved Cairbre as a brother, but that had been so long ago — before the crusade, before the Vyre, before the dawning of the New Age. Now he searched for that love and could find nothing. All he could see was a pale corpse, hands folded across a crimson breastplate.