The storm had moved on to the south and the stars were bright. Bats circled around the tower, dipping and wheeling, and the night wind was chill as it swept down from the snow-clad Delnoch range.
'How are you faring, Arvan?' Tenaka asked Scaler as they sat beneath the battlements away from the wind.
Scaler shrugged. 'A little out of place.'
'That will pass.'
'I am no warrior, Tenaka. When you tackled those soldiers, I just lay in the grass and watched. I froze!'
'No, you didn't. Everything happened at once and those of us standing just reacted more quickly. We are trained for it. Take the brothers: they moved to the only spot the soldiers would break for and stopped any survivors from escaping to bring help. I didn't tell them to do it, they're soldiers. Now, the whole skirmish lasted maybe two minutes. What could you have done?'
'I don't know. Drawn my sword. Helped!'
'There will be time for that. What is the situation at Delnoch?'
'I don't know. I left there five years ago and before that I had spent ten years in Drenan.'
'Who rules?'
'No one of the House of Bronze. Orrin was poisoned and Ceska put in his own man. His name is Matrax. Why do you ask?'
'My plans have changed.'
'In what way?'
'I was intending to assassinate Ceska.'
'And now?'
'Now I plan something even more foolish. I am going to raise an army and bring him down.'
'No army in the world can stand against the Joinings. Gods, man, even the Dragon failed — they didn't even come close!'
'Nothing in life is easy, Arvan. But it's what I am trained for. To lead an army. To bring death and destruction on my enemies. You heard Parsal and Galand; what they said was right. A man must stand against evil wherever he finds it and he must use all his talents. I'm not an assassin.'
'And where will you find this army?'
Tenaka smiled. 'I need your help. You must take Delnoch.'
'Are you serious?'
'Deadly!'
'You want me to take a fortress single-handed? A fortress that has withstood two Nadir hordes? It's insane!'
'You are of the House of Bronze. Use your head. There is a way.'
'If you have already thought of a plan, why don't you do it?'
'I cannot. I am of the House of Ulric.'
'Why so cryptic? Tell me what to do.'
'No. You are a man and I think you sell yourself short. We will stop in Skoda and see how the land lies. Then you and I will bring an army.'
Scaler's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
'A Nadir army?' he whispered, blood draining from his face. 'You would bring the Nadir?'
'Only if you can take Dros Delnoch!'
In the dark of the library the Abbot waited patiently, leaning forward on his desk, his fingers steepled and his eyes closed. His three companions sat opposite him, immobile, like living statues. The Abbot opened his eyes and regarded them all:
Acuas, the strong one, compassionate and loyal.
Balan, the sceptic.
Katan, the true mystic.
All were travelling, their spirits entwined as they sought the Dark Templars and threw a veil of mind mist over the movements of Tenaka Khan and his companions.
Acuas returned first. He opened his eyes, rubbing his hands over his yellow beard; he seemed tired, drained.
'This is not easy, my Lord,' he said. The Dark Templars have great power.'
'As have we,' said the Abbot. 'Go on.'
'There are twenty of them. They were attacked in Skultik by a bank of outlaws but slew them with arrogant ease. They are truly formidable warriors.'
'Yes. How close are they to the Torchbearer?'
'Less than a day. We cannot deceive them for much longer.'
'No. A few more days will be invaluable,' said the Abbot. 'Have they tried another night attack?'
'No, my Lord, though I think it likely.'
'Rest now, Acuas. Fetch Toris and Lannad to relieve you.'
The Abbot left the room and the long corridor beyond, making his way slowly to the second level and the garden of Decado.
The dark-eyed priest welcomed him with a smile.
'Come with me, Decado. There is something for you to see.'
Without another word he turned on his heel and led the priest to the steps and the oak doors above. Decado hesitated in the doorway — during all his years in the monastery he had never ascended these steps.
The Abbot turned. 'Come!' he said and stepped into the shadows beyond. A strange sense of fear gripped the gardener, as if his world was slipping away from him. He swallowed and began to tremble. Then, taking a deep breath, he followed the Abbot.
He was led through a maze of corridors, but he looked neither to left nor right, focusing his gaze on the grey cassock of the man walking before him. The Abbot halted before a door shaped like a leaf; there was no handle.
'Open,' whispered the Abbot and the door slid silently into a recess. Inside was a long chamber containing thirty sets of silver armour, draped with cloaks of dazzling white. Before each set was a small table bearing scabbarded swords placed in front of helms crowned with plumes of white horse-hair.
'Do you know what these represent?' asked the Abbot.
'No.' Decado was sweating freely. He wiped his eyes and the Abbot noticed with concern that the haunted look had returned to the former warrior.
'This is the armour worn by The Delnoch Thirty, led by Serbitar — the men who fought and died during the First Nadir War. You have heard of them?'
'Of course.'
'Tell me what you have heard.'
'Where is this leading, my Lord Abbot? I have duties in the gardens.'
'Tell me of The Delnoch Thirty,' ordered the Abbot.
Decado cleared his throat. 'They were warrior priests. Not like us. They trained for years and then chose a distant war in which to die. Serbitar led The Thirty at Delnoch, where they advised the Earl of Bronze and Druss the Legend. Together they turned back the hordes of Ulric.'
'But why would priests take up weapons?'
'I don't know, Lord Abbot. It is incomprehensible.'
'Is it?'
'You have taught me that all life is sacred to the Source, and that to take life is a crime against God.'
'And yet evil must be opposed.'
'Not by using the weapons of evil,' answered Decado.
'A man stands above a child with spear poised. What would you do?'
'I would stop him — but not kill him.'
'You would stop him with a blow, perhaps?'
'Yes, perhaps.'
'He falls badly, strikes his head and dies. Have you sinned?'
'No. . yes. I don't know.'
'He is the sinner, for his action ensured your reaction, and therefore it was his action that killed him. We strive for peace and harmony, my son — we long for it. But we are of the world and subject to its demands. This nation is no longer in harmony. Chaos controls and the suffering is terrible to behold.'
'What are you trying to say, my Lord?'
'It is not easy, my son, for my words will cause you great pain.' The Abbot moved forward, placing his hands on the priest's shoulders. 'This is a Temple of The Thirty. And we are preparing to ride against the darkness.'
Decado pulled back from the Abbot. 'No!'
'I want you to ride with us.'
'I believed in you. I trusted you!' Decado turned away and found himself facing one of the sets of armour. He twisted round. 'That is what I came here to escape: death and slaughter. Sharp blades and torn flesh. I have been happy here. And now you have robbed me of it. Go ahead — play your soldier's games. I will have none of it.'
'You cannot hide for ever, my son.'
'Hide? I came here to change.'
'It is not hard to change when your biggest problem is whether the weeds prosper in a vegetable patch.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means that you were a psychopathic killer — a man in love with death. Now I offer you the chance to see if you have changed. Put on the armour and ride with us against the forces of Chaos.'
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