David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

'So much sorrow in his voice,' said Scaler. 'Take me away from here.'

'Wait!' ordered the prince. 'The ceremony is not yet over.'

But Pagan ignored him and half-carried the weeping Scaler from the temple. Not one Sathuli barred his path as the trio returned to their rooms. There Pagan helped Scaler to a wide satin-covered bed and fetched him water from a stone jug; it was cool and sweet.

'Have you ever heard such sadness?' Scaler asked him.

'No,' admitted Pagan. 'It made me value life. How did you do it? By all the gods, it was a performance unparalleled.'

'It was merely another deception. And it made me sick! What skill is there in deceiving a tormented, blind spirit? Gods, Pagan, he's been dead for over a hundred years. He and Rek met very rarely after the battle — they were of two different cultures.'

'But you knew all the words. .'

'The Earl's diaries. No more, no less. I am a student of history. They met when the Sathuli ambushed my ancestor and Rek took on Joachim in single combat. They fought for an age and then Joachim's sword snapped. But Rek spared him and it was the start of their friendship.'

'You have chosen a difficult part to play. You are no swordsman.'

'No, I don't need to be. The act is enough. I think I will sleep now. Gods, I'm tired. . and so damned ashamed.'

'You have no reason to feel shame. But tell me, what are the Cheiam?'

'The sons of Joachim. It is a cult, I think; I'm not sure. Let me sleep now.'

'Rest well, Rek, you have earned it.'

'There is no need to use the name in private.'

'There is every reason — we must all live the part from now on. I don't know anything about your ancestor, but I think he would have been proud of you. It took iron nerve to go through that.'

But Scaler missed the compliment, for he had fallen asleep.

Pagan returned to the outer room.

'How is he?' asked Belder.

'He is all right. But a word of advice for you, old man: no more cutting remarks! From now on he is the Earl of Bronze and will be treated as such.'

'How little you know, black man!' snapped Belder. 'He is not playing a role, he is the Earl of Bronze. By right and by blood. He thinks he is playing a part. Well, let him. What you see now is the reality. It was always there — I knew it. That was what made me so bitter. Cutting remarks? I am proud of the boy — so proud I could sing!'

'Well, don't,' said Pagan, grinning. 'You have the voice of a sick hyena!'

Scaler was wakened by a rough hand clamping over his mouth. It was not a pleasant awakening. The moonlight made a silver beam through the open window and the breeze billowed the curtain of lace. But the man leaning over his bed was in silhouette.

'Do not make a sound,' warned a voice. 'You are in great danger!' He removed his hand and sat down on the bed.

Scaler sat up slowly. 'Danger?' he whispered.

'The prince has ordered your death.'

'Nice!'

'I am here to help you.'

'I am glad to hear it.'

'This is not jest, Lord Earl. I am Magir, leader of the Cheiam, and if you do not move you will find yourself in the Halls of the Dead once more.'

'Move where?'

'Out of the city. Tonight. We have a camp higher in the range where you will be safe.' A slight scratching noise came from beyond the window, like a rope rubbing on stone. 'Too late!' whispered Magir. 'They are here. Get your sword!'

Scaler scrambled across the bed, dragging his blade from its scabbard. A dark shadow leapt through the window but Magir intercepted it, his curved dagger flashing upwards. A terrible scream rent the silence of the night. As two more assassins clambered into the room, Scaler screamed at the top of his voice and leapt forward, swinging the sword. It hammered into flesh and the man fell without a sound. Scaler tripped over the body just as a dagger flashed over his head but rolled onto his back, thrusting his blade into the man's belly. With a grunt of pain he staggered back and pitched out of the window.

'Magnificent!' said Magir. 'Never have I seen the tumbler's roll so brilliantly executed. You could be of the Cheiam yourself.'

Scaler sat back against the wall, sword dropping from nerveless fingers.

Pagan crashed open the door. 'Are you all right, Rek?' he said. Scaler turned to see the giant black man filling the doorway like an ebony statue, while the door itself sagged on broken hinges.

'You could have merely opened it,' said Scaler. 'Gods, the drama around here is killing me!'

'Speaking of which,' said Pagan, 'I have just killed two men in my room. Belder is dead — they cut his throat.'

Scaler pushed himself to his feet. 'They killed him? Why?'

'You shamed the prince,' said Magir. 'He must kill you — he has no choice.'

'And what of the spirit of Joachim? What was the point of bringing him back?'

'I cannot answer that, Lord Earl. But you must leave now.'

'Leave? He killed my friend — probably the only friend I ever had. He was like a father to me. Get out and leave me alone — both of you!'

'Don't do anything foolish,' warned Pagan.

'Foolish: It's all foolish. Life is a farce — a stupid, sickening farce played out by fools. Well, this is one fool who has had enough. So get out!'

Scaler dressed swiftly, buckling on his sword-belt and taking his blade in his hand. Moving to the window, he leaned out. A rope swung in the night breeze and Scaler took hold of it, leaping from the window and sliding hand-over-hand to the courtyard below.

Four guards watched him in silence as he landed lightly on the marble flagstones. He walked out into the centre of the courtyard and stared up at the windows of the prince's chamber.

'Prince of cowards, come forth!' he shouted. 'Prince of lies and deceit, show yourself. Joachim said you were a sheep. Come out!'

The sentries exchanged glances but did not move.

'I am alive, prince. The Earl of Bronze is alive! All your assassins are dead and you are about to join them. Come out — or I will shrivel your soul where you hide. Come out!'

The curtains of the window moved and there stood the prince, his face flushed and angry. He leaned on the carved stone sill and shouted to the sentries.

'Kill him!'

'Come and do it yourself, you jackal!' yelled Scaler. 'Joachim called me his friend and so I am. In your own temple you heard him, yet you send assassins to my room. You spineless pig! You defile your ancestor and break your own laws of hospitality. Offal! Get down here!'

'You heard me — kill him!' screamed the prince. The sentries moved forward, lances levelled.

Scaler lowered his sword, his bright blue eyes fixed on the leading warrior.

'I will not fight you,' he said. 'But what will you have me tell Joachim when next I meet him? And what will you tell him when you walk the road to Sheol?' The man hesitated as behind Scaler Pagan ran across the courtyard, two swords in his hands. Magir was beside him.

The sentries braced themselves for the charge.

'Leave him be!' yelled Magir. 'He is the Earl and his challenge is laid down.'

'Come down, prince of cowards,' shouted Scaler. 'Your time is come!'

The prince clambered over the sill and leapt the ten feet to the flagstones, his white robes flaring out in the breeze. Walking to a sentry he took the man's tulwar, testing it for balance.

'Now you will die,' said the prince. 'I know you are a liar. You are not the long-dead Earl — you are a deceiver.'

'Prove it!' snapped Scaler. 'Step forward. I am the greatest swordsman ever to walk the earth. I turned back the hordes of the Nadir. I broke the blade of Joachim Sathuli. Step forward and die!'

The prince licked his lips and stared into the blazing eyes. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and in that moment he knew he was doomed. Life was suddenly very precious and he was far too important a man to allow some demon from the deep to trick him into combat. His hand began to shake.