David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

'We're not going to cross that?' asked Renya.

'Yes.'

Tenaka touched his heels to his mount and moved out. Almost at once the horse slipped, then righted itself. Tenaka kept up its head and began talking to the beast in a low soothing voice. His left leg was touching the rock wall, his right over the awesome drop; he did not dare swing his weight to see if Renya was following. The horse moved on slowly, its ears flat against its skull and its eyes wide in fear. Unlike the Nadir or Sathuli ponies, it had not been bred for mountain work.

The trail wound round the mountains, widening in some places and narrowing sickeningly in others, until at last they came to a slanting sheet of ice across their path. Tenaka had just enough room to slide from the saddle and he moved forward slowly, kneeling to examine the ice. The surface was powdery with fresh-fallen snow, but beneath it was glossy and sheer.

'Can we go back?' called Renya.

'No, there is nowhere to turn the horses. And the Delnoch riders will have reached the trail. We must go on.'

'Across that?'

'We must lead the horses,' said Tenaka. 'But if it starts to go, don't hold on. You understand?'

'This is stupid,' she said, staring down at the rocks hundreds of feet below.

'I couldn't agree more,' he answered with a wry grimace. 'Keep to the cliff face and don't curl the reins around your hand — hold them loosely. Ready?'

Tenaka stepped out on to the sloping ice, placing his foot carefully on the powdery snow.

He tugged on the reins, but the horse refused to budge; its eyes were wide with fear and it was close to panic. Tenaka stepped back, curling his arm over the beast's neck and whispering in its ear.

"There is no problem for you, noble heart,' he whispered. 'You have courage in your soul. It is merely a difficult path. I will be here with you.' For some minutes he spoke thus, patting and stroking the sleek neck. Trust me, great one. Walk with me for a little while.'

He stepped out on to the slope and pulled the reins and the horse moved forward. Slowly, and with great care, they left the safety of the trail.

Renya's horse slipped, but recovered its footing. Tenaka heard the commotion but could not look back. Solid rock was only inches away, but as Tenaka stepped on to it his horse slithered suddenly, whinnying in terror. Tenaka grabbed the reins tightly with his right hand, his left snaking out to the cliff face and hooking round a jutting edge of rock.

As the horse slid back towards the drop, Tenaka felt the muscles across his back tighten and tear. It seemed his arms were being torn from their sockets. He wanted to let go of the reins, but could not; instinctively he had curled the leather round his wrist and if the horse fell, he would be drawn with it.

As suddenly as it had lost its footing the beast found a solid section of rock, and with Tenaka's help struggled back to the trail. Tenaka sagged against the cliff face. The horse nuzzled him and he patted it. His wrist was bleeding where the leather had burned through the skin.

'Stupid!' said Renya, leading her horse to the safety of the trail.

'I cannot deny it,' he said, 'but we made it. From here on the trail widens and there are few natural dangers now. And I do not think the Drenai will follow us over this path.'

'I think you were born lucky, Tenaka Khan. But don't use up all your luck before we reach the Nadir.'

They made camp in a shallow cave and fed the horses before lighting a fire with brushwood they had strapped to their saddles. Tenaka stripped off his leather jerkin and lay down on a blanket by the fire while Renya massaged his bruised back. The struggle to keep the horse from falling had taken its toll and the Nadir prince could hardly move his right arm. Renya gently probed the shoulder-blade and the swollen muscles around it.

'You are a mess,' she said. 'Your body is a patchwork of bruises.'

'You should feel them from this side.'

'You are getting tod old for this,' she said mischievously.

'A man is as old as he feels, woman!' he snapped.

'And how old do you feel?'

'About ninety,' he admitted. She covered him with a blanket and sat staring out at the night. It was peaceful here, away from war and the talk of war. Truthfully she did not care about overthrowing the Ceska — she did care about being with Tenaka Khan. Men were so stupid; they didn't understand the reality of life at all.

Love was what mattered. Love of one for one. The touching of hands, the touching of hearts. The warmth of belonging, the joy of sharing. There would always be tyrants. Man seemed incapable of existing without them. For without tyrants there would be no heroes. And Man could not live without heroes.

Renya wrapped herself in her cloak and added the last of the wood to the fire. Tenaka lay asleep, his head resting on his saddle.

'Where would you be without Ceska, my love?' she asked him, knowing he could not hear her. 'I think you need him more than you need me.'

His violet eyes opened and he smiled sleepily.

'Not true,' he said. Then his eyes closed once more.

'Liar,' she whispered, curling up beside him.

Scaler, Belder and Pagan lay on their bellies overlooking the Drenai camp. There were twenty soldiers sitting around five camp-fires. The prisoners sat back-to-back at the centre of the camp and sentries patrolled near them.

'Are you sure this is necessary?' asked Belder.

'It is,' Scaler told him. 'If we rescue two Sathuli warriors, it will give us a great advantage in seeking aid from the tribesmen.'

'They look too well-guarded to me,' muttered the older man.

'I agree,' said Pagan. 'There is one guard within ten paces of the prisoners. Two others patrol the edge of the trees and a fourth has positioned himself in the forest.'

'Could you find him?'

Pagan grinned. 'Of course. But what of the other three?'

'Find the one in the forest and bring me his armour,' said Scaler.

Pagan slipped away and Belder slithered across to lie beside Scaler. 'You're not going down there?'

'Of course. It's a deception — that's something I am good at.'

'You won't be able to pull it off. We shall be taken.'

'Please, Belder, no morale-boosting speeches — you will make me conceited.'

'Well, I'm not going down there.'

'I don't recall asking you.'

It was almost half an hour before Pagan returned. He was carrying the sentry's clothes wrapped in the man's red cloak.

'I hid the body as best I could,' he said. 'How soon will they change the guards?'

'An hour — maybe a little less,' said Belder. "There's not enough time.'

Scaler opened the bundle, examined the contents and then buckled on the breastplate. It was a poor fit but better too large than too small, he thought.

'How do I look? he asked, placing the plumed helm upon his head.

'Ridiculous,' said Belder. 'You won't fool them for a minute.'

'Old man,' hissed Pagan, 'you are a pain in the ears! We have only been together three days and already I am sick of you. Now close your mouth.'

Belder was about to whisper a cutting reply, but the look in the black man's eyes stopped him dead. The man was ready to kill him! His blood froze and he turned away.

'What is your plan?' asked Pagan.

'There are three guards, but only one near the prisoners. I intend to relieve him.'

'And the other two?'

'That's as far as I have worked it out.'

'It is a beginning,' said Pagan. 'If the first part works, and the man takes to his blankets, move across to the other two. Keep your knife handy and make your move when I make mine.'

Scaler licked his lips. Keep your knife handy? He wasn't sure he would have the nerve to plunge the blade into someone's body.

Together the two men crept through the undergrowth towards the camp. The moon was bright, but the occasional cloud masked it, plunging the clearing into darkness. The fires had burned low and the warriors were sleeping soundly.