David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

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A century has passed since the heroic defence of Dros Delnoch. But the people of the Drenai face a new terror: a mad emperor kept in power by two forces of unsurpassed evil. The Joinings are werebeasts of awesome power. The Dark Templars are warrior-priests whose fighting skills are without equal. Against them, the Drenai face certain defeat. One man, an outsider hated by the Drenai for his Nadir blood, and despised by the Nadir for his Drenai ancestry, sets out to bring down the emperor. He is one man against the armies of chaos. He is Tenaka Khan — the Prince of Shadows.

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'I am sorry,' he mouthed, but she had looked away.

'May I speak?' she asked, her voice clear and strong.

Malif turned to her. 'The law says that you may, but let there be nothing seditious in your words or I shall have you gagged.'

'My friends,' she began, 'I am sorry to see you here today. Death means nothing but the absence of joy is worse than death. Most of you I know. And I love you all. Please go from here and remember me as you knew me. Think of the laughter and put this evil moment from your minds.'

'No need for that, lady!' someone shouted. The crowd parted and a tall man dressed in black moved to the open space before the pyre.

Valtaya looked down into the man's bright blue eyes. His face was covered by a mask of shining black leather and she wondered if a man with such beautiful eyes could possibly be the executioner.

'Who are you?' demanded Malif. The man removed his leather cloak, carelessly tossing it into the crowd.

'You requested a champion, did you not?'

Malif smiled. The man was massively built, but even he was dwarfed by the Joining.

What a fine day, to be sure!

'Remove your mask, so that we may see you,' he ordered.

'That is not necessary, nor is it part of the law,' replied the man.

'Indeed it is not. Very well. The contest will be decided in hand-to-hand combat, without weapons.'

'No!' shouted Valtaya. 'Please sir, reconsider — it is madness! If I must die, then let it be alone. I am reconciled to it, but you only make it more difficult.'

The man ignored her as from his broad black belt he tugged a pair of leather gauntlets.

'Is it permitted for me to wear these?' he asked.

Malif nodded and the Joining ambled forward. It was almost seven feet tall, with a hugh vulpine head. Its hands ended in wickedly curved talons. A low growl issued from its maw, and its lips curled back to show gleaming fangs.

'Are there any rules to this combat?' asked the man.

'None,' replied Malif.

'Fine,' said the man, hammering a fist into the beast's mouth. One fang snapped under the impact and blood sprayed into the air. Then he leapt forward, blows thundering to the beast's head.

But the Joining was strong, and after the initial shock it roared its defiance and sprang to the offensive. A fist snapped its head back, then its taloned claw flashed out. The man jumped back, his tunic slashed, blood seeping from shallow cuts in his chest. The two circled each other.

Now the Joining leapt and the man threw himself into the air feet first, his boots thundering into the beast's face. The Joining was hurled to the ground and the man rolled to his feet, running forward to aim a kick, but the Joining swept up an arm and knocked him to the ground. The beast reared up to its full height, then staggered, with eyes rolling and tongue lolling. The man jumped forward, hurling blow after blow to the creature's head, and the Joining toppled face-first into the dust of the market square. The man stood above it, chest heaving; then he turned to the stunned Malif.

'Cut the girl loose!' he said. 'It is over.'

'Sorcery!' shouted Malif. 'You are a warlock. You will burn with the girl. Take him!'

An angry roar rose from the crowd and they surged forward.

Ananais grinned and leapt to the platform as Malif stumbled back, scrabbling for his sword. Ananais hit him and he flew from the platform. The guards turned and ran and Scaler climbed to the stake, slicing his dagger through the ropes.

'Come on!' he yelled, taking Valtaya by the arm.

'We must get out of here. They will be back.' 'Who has my cloak?' bellowed Ananais.

'I have it, general,' shouted a bearded veteran, Ananais swirled the cloak around his shoulder, fixing the clasp, then lifted his hands for silence. 'When they ask who freed the girl, tell them it was the army of Tenaka Khan. Tell them the Dragon is back.'

'This way, quickly!' shouted Scaler, leading Val-taya to a narrow alley. Ananais leapt lightly from the platform and followed them, pausing to glance down at the lifeless Malif, his neck grotesquely twisted. He must have fallen badly, thought Ananais. But then if the fall had not killed him, the poison would have done so. Carefully he removed his gauntlets, pressing the hidden stud and sliding the needle covers in place over the knuckles. Tucking them into his belt, he raced after the man and the girl.

They ducked through a side door off a cobbled street and Ananais found himself in a darkened inn, the shutters closed and the chairs stacked on tables. The man and the girl were standing by the long bar.

The landlord — a short, balding fat man — was pouring wine into clay jugs. He glanced up as Ananais walked forward out of the shadows and the carafe fell from his trembling fingers.

Scaler spun round, his eyes fearful.

'Oh, it's you!' he said. 'You certainly move quietly for a big man. It's all right, Larcas; this is the man who rescued Valtaya.'

'Pleased to meet you,' said the landlord. 'Drink?'

'Thanks.'

'The world's gone mad,' said Larcas. 'You know, during the first five years that I ran this inn there was not one murder. Everyone had at least a little money. It was a joy in those days. The world's gone mad!'

He poured wine for Ananais, refilling his own glass which he drained at a single swallow. 'Mad! I hate violence. I came here for the quiet life. A corn city just off the Sentran Plain — no trouble. And look at us now. Animals that walk like men. Laws no one can understand, let alone obey. Informers, thieves, murderers. Break wind during the anthem and you are dubbed a traitor.'

Ananais pulled a chair from a table and sat down with his back to the trio. Gently he lifted his mask and sipped the wine. Valtaya joined him and he turned his head away, then finished the wine and replaced his mask. Her hand reached out and covered his own.

'Thank you for the gift of life,' she said.

'It was my pleasure, lady.'

'Your scars are bad?'

'I have not seen worse.'

'Have they healed?'

'Mostly. The one under my right eye opens now and then. I can live with it.'

'I will heal it for you.'

'It is not necessary.'

'It is a small thing. I would like to do it for you. Have no fear. I have seen scars before.'

'Not like these, lady. I have no face beneath this mask. But I was handsome once.'

'You are handsome still,' she said. His blue eyes blazed and he leaned forward, fist clenched.

'Do not make a fool of me, — woman!'

'I merely meant. .'

'I know what you meant — you meant to be kind. Well, I do not need kindness. Or understanding. I was handsome and I enjoyed it. Now I am a monster and I have learned to live with it.'

'Now you listen,' ordered Valtaya, leaning forward on her elbows. 'What I was going to say was that looks mean nothing to me. Deeds paint better pictures of a man than skin hanging from tendons and bones. What you did today was handsome.'

Ananais leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest.

'I am sorry,' he said. 'Forgive me.'

She chuckled and reached forward, gripping his hand.

There is nothing to forgive. We just know each other a little better.'

'Why did they seek to burn you?' he asked, laying his hand on hers and enjoying the warmth of her skin.

She shrugged: 'I deal in herbs and medicines. And I always speak the truth.'

'That accounts for witchcraft and sedition. What about theft?'

'I borrowed a horse. Tell me about you.'

'Little to tell. I am a warrior in search of a war.'

'Is that why you came back to Drenai?'

'Who knows?'

'Do you really have an army?'

'A force of two. But it's a beginning.'

'It's optimistic anyway. Does your friend fight as well as you?'

'Better. He's Tenaka Khan.'

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