David Gemmell: The King Beyond the Gate

He was almost there when the pounding began behind him and the muffled shouts of the sentries pierced the silence. A Joining stumbled from its lair, blood-red eyes fastening on Scaler; it was close to seven feet tall, with huge shoulders and heavily-muscled arms covered with black fur. Its face was elongated, sharp fangs lining its maw. The pounding grew loader and Scaler took a deep breath.

'Go and see what the noise is about,' he told the beast.

'Who you?' it hissed, the words mangled by the lolling tongue.

'Don't just stand there — go and see what they want,' ordered Scaler sharply.

The beast brushed past him and other Joinings came into the corridor and followed it, ignoring Scaler. He ran to the gate and slipped the key in the lock. As it turned and the gate swung open, a sudden bellowing roar blasted in the confines of the corridor. Scaler twisted round to see the Joinings running towards him, howling ferociously. With shaking fingers he dragged free the key and leapt through the opening, pulling the gate shut behind him and swiftly locking it.

The night air was crisp as he ran up the short steps to the western courtyard and on to the ornate wall, scaling it swiftly and dropping into the cobbled street beyond.

It was well after curfew, so he hugged the shadows all the way to the inn, then climbed the outer trellis to his room, rapping on the shutters.

Belder opened the window and helped him inside.

'Well?' asked the old soldier.

'I got the jewels,' stated Scaler.

'I despair of you,' said Belder. 'After all the years I spend on you, what do you become? A thief!'

'It's in the blood,' said Scaler, grinning. 'Remember the Earl of Bronze?'

'That's Legend,' replied Belder. 'And even if it's true, not one of his descendants has ever lived a less than honourable life. Even that Nadir-spawn Tenaka!'

'Don't speak ill of him, Belder,' said Scaler softly. 'He was my friend.'

Tenaka slept and the familiar dreams returned to haunt him.

The Steppes rolled away from him like a green, frozen ocean, all the way to the end of the world. His pony reared as he dragged the rawhide rein, then swung to the south with hooves drumming the hard-packed clay.

With the dry wind in his face Tenaka grinned.

Here, only here, was he his own man.

Half-Nadir, half-Drenai, wholly nothing — a product of war, a flesh-and-blood symbol of uneasy peace. He was accepted among the tribes with cool courtesy, as befitted one in whose veins ran the blood of Ulric. But there was little camaraderie. Twice the tribes had been turned back by the strength of the Drenai. Once, long before, the legendary Earl of Bronze had defended Dros Delnoch against Ulric's hordes. Twenty years ago the Dragon had decimated Jongir's army.

Now here was Tenaka, a living reminder of defeat.

So he rode alone and mastered all the tasks they set him. Sword, bow, spear, axe — with each of these he was skilled beyond his peers, for when they ceased practice to enjoy the games of childhood he worked on. He listened to the wise — seeing wars and battles on a different plane — and his sharp mind absorbed the lessons.

One day they would accept him. If he had the patience.

But he had ridden home to the city of tents and seen his mother standing with Jongir. She was crying.

And he knew.

He leapt from the saddle and bowed to the Khan, ignoring his mother, as was fitting.

'It is time for you to go home,' said Jongir.

He said nothing, merely nodded.

'They have a place for you within the Dragon. It is your right as the son of an Earl.' The khan seemed uncomfortable, and did not meet Tenaka's steady gaze. 'Well, say something,' he snapped.

'As you wish, Lord, so let it be.'

'You will not plead to stay?'

'If you desire me to.'

'I desire nothing of you.'

'Then when shall I leave?'

'Tomorrow. You will have an escort — twenty riders, as befits my grandson.'

'You honour me, Lord.'

The Khan nodded, glanced once at Shillat and then walked away. Shillat opened the tent-flap and Tenaka entered their home. She followed him and once inside he turned to her and took her in his arms.

'Oh, Tani,' she whispered through her tears. 'What more must you do?'

'Maybe at Dros Delnoch I shall truly be home,' he said. But hope died within him as he said it, for he was not a fool.

Tenaka awoke to hear the storm hissing and battering at the window. He stretched and glanced at the fire — it had faded to glowing coals. The girl slept in the chair, her breathing deep. He sat up and then moved to the fire, adding fresh wood and gently blowing the flames to life. He checked the old man; his colour was not good. Tenaka shrugged and left the room. The corridor was icy, the wooden boards creaking under his boots. He made his way to the old kitchen and the indoor well; it was hard to pump, but he enjoyed the exercise and was rewarded when water jetted to the wooden bucket. Stripping off his dark jerkin and grey woollen shirt, he washed his upper body, enjoying the near-pain of the ice-touched water on his sleep-warm skin.

Removing his remaining clothes, Tenaka moved out into the gym area beyond. There he twirled and leapt, landing lightly — first his right hand slicing the air, then his left. He rolled to the floor, then arched his back and sprang to his feet.

From the doorway Renya watched him, drawing back into the shadows of the corridor. She was fascinated. He moved like a dancer, yet there was something barbaric in the scene: some primordial element that was both lethal and yet beautiful. His feet and hands were weapons, flashing and killing invisible opponents, yet his face was serene and devoid of all passion.

She shivered, longing to withdraw to the sanctuary of his room but unable to move. His skin was the colour of gold under sunlight, soft and warm, but the muscles beneath strained and swelled like silver steel. She closed her eyes and stumbled back, wishing she had never seen him.

Tenaka washed the sweat from his body and then dressed swiftly, hunger eating at him. Back in his room he sensed the change in the atmosphere. Renya avoided meeting his eyes as she sat by the old man, stroking his white hair.

'The storm is breaking,' said Tenaka.

'Yes.'

'What is the matter?'

'Nothing. . except that Aulin is not breathing well. Will he be all right, do you think?'

Tenaka joined her at the bedside. Taking the old man's frail wrist between his fingers he felt for the pulse. It was weak and irregular.

'How long since he has eaten?' he asked.

'Two days.'

Tenaka delved in his pack, producing a sack of dried meat and a smaller pack of oats. 'I wish I had sugar,' he said, 'but this will have to do. Go and fetch some water and a cooking pot.'

Without a word Renya left the room. Tenaka smiled. So that was it — she had seen him exercising and for some reason it had unsettled her. He shook his head.

She returned with an iron pot brimming with water

'Throw half of it away,' he told her. She splashed it in the hallway and he took the pot to the fire, slicing the meat with his dagger. Then he carefully placed the pot on the flames.

'Why did you not speak this morning?' he asked, his back towards her.

'I don't know what you mean.'

'When you saw me exercising?'

'I did not see you.'

'Then how did you know where to fetch the pot and get the water? You did not go past me in the night.'

'Who are you to question me?' she snapped.

He turned to her. 'I am a stranger. You do not need to lie to me, or pretend. Only with friends do you need masks.'

She sat down by the fire, stretching her long legs to the flames.

'How sad,' she said, softly. 'Surely it is only with friends that one can be at peace?'