David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

Lifting the mirror, he gazed at himself.

Could he pass himself off as Rek, the Warrior Earl?

Pagan had given him the idea when he said that men were always willing to believe that other men were stronger, faster, more capable than themselves. It was all a matter of portrayal. He had said that Scaler could appear to be a prince, an assassin, a general.

Then why not a dead hero?

After all, who could prove otherwise?

Scaler left the room; a tribesman carrying a spear bowed and requested him to follow. The man led him to a wide chamber in which sat the young man from the gates, the two Sathuli he had rescued and an old man in robes of faded brown.

'Welcome,' said the Sathuli leader. 'I have someone here who is anxious to meet you.' He pointed to the old man. 'This is Raffir, a holy man. He is of the line of Joachim Sathuli, and a great student of history. He has many questions concerning the siege of Dros Delnoch.'

'I will be happy to answer his questions.'

'I am sure you will. He also has another talent we find of use — he speaks with the spirits of the dead. Tonight he will enter into a trance and you will be delighted, I am sure, to attend.'

'Of course.'

'For myself,' said the Sathuli, 'I am looking forward to it. I have listened to Kaffir's spirit voice many times and often questioned him. But to have the privilege of bringing together such friends. . well, I feel great pride.'

'Speak plainly, Sathuli!' said Scaler. 'I am in no mood for children's games.'

'A thousand apologies, noble guest. I was merely trying to tell you that Kaffir's spirit guide is none other than your friend, the great Joachim. I shall be fascinated to listen to your conversation.'

'Stop panicking!' said Pagan as Scaler paced the room. The servants had been dismissed and Belder, dismayed at the news, was strolling in the rose garden below.

'There is a time for panic,' said Scaler, 'when all else fails. Well, it has — so I'm panicking.'

'Are you sure the old man is genuine?'

'What difference does it make? If he is a fake, he will have been schooled by the prince to deny me. If he is genuine, the spirit of Joachim will deny me. There is no way round it!'

'You could denounce the old man as a fake,' offered Pagan, without conviction.

'Denounce their holy man in their own temple? I don't think so. It stretches the laws of hospitality to breaking point.'

'I hate to sound like Belder, but this was your idea. You really should have thought it through.'

'I hate you sounding like Belder.'

'Will you stop that pacing? Here, have some fruit.' Pagan tossed an apple across the room but Scaler dropped it.

The door opened and Belder entered. 'It's a real mess and no mistake,' he said glumly.

Scaler sank into a wide leather chair. 'It should be quite a night.'

'Are we allowed to go armed?' asked Pagan.

'If you like,' said Belder, 'though I cannot see even you fighting your way through a thousand Sathuli!'

'I don't want to die without a weapon in my hand.'

'Bravely spoken!' said Scaler. 'I will take this apple. I don't want to die without a piece of fruit in my hand. Will you put a stop to this talk of dying? It's extremely unsettling!'

The conversation struggled on pointlessly until a servant tapped on the door, entered and requested them to follow him. Scaler asked the man to wait while he moved to the full-length mirror on the far wall and gazed at his reflection; he was surprised to find himself smiling. He swung his cloak over his shoulder dramatically and adjusted the opal headband on his brow.

'Stay with me, Rek,' he said. 'I shall need all the help there is.'

The trio followed the servant through the palace until they reached the porch to the temple, where the man bowed and backed away. Scaler walked on into the cool shadows and out into the temple proper. Seats on all sides were filled with silent tribesmen, while the prince and Raffir sat side by side on a raised dais. A third chair was placed at Raffir's right. Scaler drew himself upright and marched down the aisle, removing his cloak and settling it carefully over the back of his chair.

The prince stood and bowed to Scaler. There was, Scaler thought, a malevolent gleam in his dark eyes.

'I welcome our noble guest here this evening. No Drenai has ever stood in this temple. But this man claims to be the Nadir Bane, the living spirit of the Earl of Bronze, brother in blood to the great Joachim. Therefore it is fitting that he should meet Joachim again in this holy place.

'Peace be on your souls, brothers, and let your hearts open to the music of the Void. Let Raffir commune with the darkness. .'

Scaler shivered as the vast congregation bowed their heads. Raffir leaned back in his seat; his eyes opened wide and then rolled back under the sockets. Scaler began to feel sick.

'I call upon you, spirit friend!' shouted Raffir, his voice high-pitched and quavering. 'Come to us from the holy place. Give us of your wisdom.'

The candles in the temple guttered suddenly, as if a breeze had sprung up in the midst of the building.

'Come to us, spirit friend! Lead us.'

Once more the candle-flames danced — and this time many went out. Scaler licked his lips; Raffir was no fake.

'Who calls Joachim Sathuli?' boomed a voice, deep and resonant. Scaler started in his seat, for the voice came from the scrawny throat of Kaffir.

'Blood of your blood calls upon you, great Joachim,' said the prince. 'I have here a man who claims to be your friend.'

'Let him speak then,' said the spirit, 'for I have heard too often your whining voice.'

'Speak!' ordered the prince, turning on Scaler. 'You heard the command.'

'You do not command me, wretch!' snapped Scaler. 'I am Rek, the Earl of Bronze, and I lived in a day when the Sathuli were men. Joachim was a man — and my brother. Tell me, Joachim, how do you like these sons of your sons?'

'Rek? I cannot see. Is it you?'

'It is I, brother. Here among these shadows of you. Why could you not be here with me?'

'I cannot tell… So much time. Rek! Our first meeting. You remember your words?'

'I do. "And what is your life worth, Joachim?" And you answered, "A broken sword." '

'Yes, yes, I remember. But at the last, the words of importance. The words that brought me to Dros Delnoch.'

'I was riding towards death at the fortress and I told you so. Then I said, "Before me I have nothing but enemies and war. I would like to think I have left at least a few friends behind me." I asked you to take my hand as a friend.'

'Rek, it is you! My brother! How is it you enjoy the life of blood once more?'

'The world has not changed, Joachim. Still evil rises like pus in a boil. I fight a war without allies and with few friends. I came to the Sathuli, as I did in the past.'

'What do you need, my brother?'

'I need men.'

'The Sathuli will not follow you. Nor should they. I loved you, Rek, for you were a great man. But it would be an obscenity for a Drenai to lead the chosen tribe. You must be desperate even to ask. But in your great need I offer you the Cheiam to use as you will. Oh Rek, my brother, would that I could walk beside you once more, tulwar in hand! I can still see the Nadir breasting the last wall, hear their cries of hatred. We were men, were we not?'

'We were men,' said Scaler. 'Even with the wound in your side, you were mighty.'

'My people fare badly now, Rek. Sheep led by goats. Use the Cheiam well. And may the Lord of All Things bless you.'

Scaler swallowed hard. 'Has he blessed you, my friend?'

'I have what I deserve. Goodbye, my brother.'

A terrible sadness overcame Scaler and he sank to his knees, tears coursing his cheeks. He tried to stifle the sobs but they forced their way through as Pagan ran to him, pulling him to his feet.