David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

'Yes. But they would just leave half their force to keep us pinned down and then attack the city and the villages. The bloodshed would be terrible.'

'Then what do you suggest?' said Rayvan.

He told her and she blanched. Lucas said nothing. Tenaka folded the parchment notes and sketches and tied them with a strip of leather. The silence grew between them.

'Despite your tainted blood,' said Rayvan at last, 'I trust you, Tenaka. From any other man, I would say it was madness. Even from you. .'

'There is no other way to win. But I accept it is fraught with dangers. I have marked out the ground where the work must be done, and I have made maps and charted distances for the archers to memorise. But it is up to you, Rayvan. You are the leader here.'

'What do you think, Lucas?' she asked her son.

He waved his hands. 'Don't ask me! I'm not a soldier.'

'You think I am?' snapped Rayvan. 'Give me an opinion.'

'I don't like it. But I cannot give you an alternative. As Tenaka says, if we cut and run we open Skoda to them. And we cannot win that way. But two-thirds. .'

Rayvan pushed herself to her feet, grunting as her rheumatic knee half gave way beneath her. She walked away down the slope to sit beside a ribbon stream that rushed over white pebbles, glinting like pearls inches below the surface.

Burrowing in the pocket of her mailshirt she found a hard-cake biscuit. It had broken into three pieces against the iron rings.

She felt a fool.

What was she doing here? What did she know of war?

She had raised fine sons and her husband had been a prince among men, big and gentle and soft as goosedown. When the soldiers cut him down she had reacted in an instant. But from then on she had lived a lie — revelling in her new role as a warrior queen, making decisions and directing an army. But it was all a sham, just like her claim to Druss' line. Her head bowed and she bit the knuckle of her thumb to stop the tears flowing.

What are you, Rayvan? she asked herself.

A fat, middle-aged woman in a man's mailshirt.

Tomorrow, or at most the day after, four hundred young men would die for her… their blood on her hands. Among them would be her surviving sons. Dipping her hands into the stream, she washed her face.

'Oh, Druss, what should I do? What would you do?'

There was no answer. Nor did she expect one. The dead were dead — no golden shades in ghostly palaces gazing fondly down on their descendants. There was no one to hear her cry for help, no living thing. Unless the stream itself and the pearl-like stones beneath could hear her, or the soft spring grass and the purple heather. She was alone.

In a way this had always been so. Her husband, Laska, had been a great comfort arid she had loved him well. But never with that all-consuming love she had dreamed about. He had been like a rock, a solid steadfast mountain of a man she could cling to when no others could see her. He had inner strength, and he didn't mind when she lorded it over him in public and appeared to be making all the family decisions. In reality she listened to his advice in the quiet of their room and, more often than not, acted upon it.

Now Laska was gone, and with him her other son, Geddis, and she sat alone in a ridiculous mailshirt. She gazed out at the mountains at the opening of the Demon's Smile, picturing the dark-cloaked Legion riders as they rode into the valley, remembering again the blow that had felled Laska. He had not expected an attack and was sitting by the well talking to Geddis. There must have been two hundred Skoda men in the area, waiting for the cattle auction. She had not heard what passed between the officer and her husband, for she was thirty feet away, chopping meat for the barbecue. But she had seen the sword flash into the air and watched the blade as it cut deep. Then she had been running, the meat cleaver in her hand. .

Now the Legion were coming back for revenge — not just on her but on the innocents of Skoda. Anger flickered inside her — they thought to ride into her mountains and stain the grass with the blood of her people!

Pushing herself to her feet, she slowly made her way back towards Tenaka Khan. He sat motionless like a statue, watching her without emotion in those violet eyes. Then he rose. She blinked, for his movement was swift and fluid; one moment he was still, the next in motion. There was perfection in that movement and it gave her confidence, though she could not imagine why.

'You have made a decision?' he asked.

'Yes. We will do as you advise. But I stay with the men in the centre.'

'As you wish, Rayvan. I shall be at the mouth of the valley.'

'Is that wise?' she asked. 'Is that not very dangerous for our general?'

'Ananais will take the centre, Decado the right flank. I shall come back to cover the left. If I fall, Galand shall cover for me. Now I must seek Ananais, for I want his men working through the night.'

The leaders of The Thirty met together in a sheltered hollow on the eastern slopes of the Demon's Smile. Below in the bright moonlight four hundred men were toiling, stripping turf and digging channels into the soft black earth beneath.

The five priests sat in a tight circle, saying nothing as Acuas travelled, receiving reports from the ten warriors watching over the preparations. Acuas soared high into the night sky, revelling in the freedom of the air; there was no gravity here, no necessity for breath, no chains of muscle and bone. Here, above the world, his eyes could see for ever and his ears hear the sweet song of the solar winds. It was intoxicating and his soul swelled with the extravagance of the beauty of the universe.

It was an effort to return to his duties, but Acuas was a man of discipline. He thought-flew to the outer scouts holding the shield against the Templars, and felt the malice beyond the barrier.

'How goes it, Oward?' he pulsed.

'It is hard, Acuas. They are growing in strength all the time. We will not be able to hold them for much longer.'

'It is imperative the Templars do not see the preparations.'

'We are almost at our limits, Acuas. Much more and they will be through. Then the deaths will begin.'

'I know. Hold them!'

Acuas sped down and on past the mouth of the valley to where the Legion were camped. Hovering there was the warrior Astin.

'Greetings, Acuas!'

'Greetings. Any change?'

'I don't believe so, Acuas, but the Templars have now closed us off and I can no longer intercept the leader's thoughts. But he is confident. He does not expect serious opposition.'

'Have the Templars tried to get through to you?'

'Not as yet. The shield holds. How fare Oward and the others?'

'They are being pushed to the limit. Do not wait too long, Astin. I do not want to see you cut off.'

'Acuas,' pulsed Astin as the other made to leave.

'Yes?'

'The men we escorted from the city. .'

'Yes?'

'They have all been slain by the Legion. It was ghastly.'

'I feared it would be so.'

'Are we responsible for their deaths?'

'I don't know, my friend; I fear so. Be careful.'

Acuas returned to his body and opened his eyes. He outlined the situation to the others and waited for Decado to speak.

'There is no more we can do,' said Decado, 'it is set. It will be dawn in less than three hours and the Legion will strike. As you know, Tenaka requires five of us to join his forces. The choice of men I will leave to you, Acuas. The rest of us will stand with Ananais at the centre. The woman, Rayvan, will be with us — Ananais wishes her protected at all costs.'

'No easy task,' said Balan.

'I didn't say it was easy,' answered Decado. 'Merely to try. Psychologically she is vital, for the Skoda men fight for her as well as for the land.'