David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

He felt the stares of his men upon him and glanced up to see the courtyard ringed with Sathuli warriors. And yet he was alone; not one of them would come to his aid. He had to attack, but to do so meant death. With a wild scream he threw himself forward, tulwar raised. Scaler buried his sword in the prince's heart, then dragged it clear and the body sagged to the flagstones.

Magir stepped to Scaler's side. 'Now you must leave. They will allow you to pass from the mountains, then they will follow to avenge this killing.'

'That's of no importance to me,' said Scaler. 'I came here to win them. Without them we are lost anyway.'

'You have the Cheiam, my friend. We will follow you back into Hell itself.'

Scaler looked down at the dead prince. 'He didn't even try to fight — he just ran forward to die.'

'He was a dog and the son of a dog. I spit on him!' said Magir. 'He was not worthy of you, Lord Earl, though he was the greatest swordsman in all of Sathuli.'

'He was?' said Scaler, astonished.

'He was. But he knew you were a greater man and the knowledge destroyed him before your sword could do so.'

'The man was a fool. If he only. .'

'Rek,' said Pagan, 'it is time to leave. I will fetch the horses.'

'No. I want to see Belder buried before we leave this place.'

'My men will see to it,' said Magir. 'But your friend speaks wisely and I will have horses brought to the courtyard. It is only an hour to our camp, where we can rest and speak of your plans.'

'Magir!'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'I thank you.'

'It was my duty, Lord Earl. I thought I would hate this duty, for the Cheiam bear no love for Drenai warriors. But you are a man.'

Tell me, what are the Cheiam?'

'We are the Drinkers of Blood, the sons of Joachim. We worship only one god: Shalli, the spirit of Death.'

'How many of you are there?'

'One hundred only, Lord Earl. But judge us not by our number. Rather, watch the numbers of dead we leave behind us.'

The man was buried up to his neck, the dry earth packed tightly around him. Ants crawled on his face and the sun beat down on his shaven head. He heard the sound of approaching horses, but could not turn.

'A pox on you and all your family!' he shouted.

Then he heard someone dismount and a merciful shadow fell across him. Glancing up, he saw standing before him a tall figure in black leather tunic and riding boots; he could not see his face. A woman led the horses round to the front and the man squatted down.

'We are seeking the tents of the Wolves,' he said.

The buried man spat an ant from his mouth. 'Good for you!' he said. 'Why tell me? You think I have been left here as a signpost?'

'I was contemplating digging you out.'

'I shouldn't bother. The hills behind you are full of Pack-rats. They would not take kindly to your intrusion.'

'Pack-rats' was the name given to members of the Green Monkey tribe following a battle some two hundred years before, when they had been deprived of their ponies and forced to carry their possessions on their backs. The other tribes never forgot the humiliation, nor allowed the Monkeys to forget.

'How many are there?' asked Tenaka.

'Who knows? They all look alike to me.'

Tenaka held a leather canteen of water to the man's lips and he drank greedily.

'What tribe are you?' asked Tenaka.

'I'm glad you asked that after offering me water,' said the man. 'I am Subodai of the Spears.'

Tenaka nodded. The Spears were hated by the Wolfshead on the ample grounds that their warriors were equally as vicious and efficient as their own.

For the Nadir there was seldom respect for an enemy. Weaker foes were treated with contempt, stronger regarded with hatred. The Spears, though not exactly stronger, fell into the latter category.

'How did a Spear fall to the Pack-rats?' asked Tenaka.

'Luck,' answered Subodai, spitting more ants from his mouth. 'Pony broke a leg and then four of them jumped me.'

'Only four?'

'I have not been well!'

'I think I will dig you free.'

'Not a wise move, Wolfshead! I may be forced to kill you.'

'I am not concerned by any man who is captured by a mere four Pack-rats. Renya, dig him out.'

Tenaka moved back to sit down cross-legged on the ground, staring at the hills. There was no sign of movement, but he knew they were watching him. He stretched his injured back — over the last five days it had eased greatly.

Renya scraped away the hard-packed earth, freeing the man's arms which were bound behind him. Once free, he pushed her away and struggled until he had pulled himself clear. Without a word to Renya he walked to Tenaka and squatted down.

'I have decided not to kill you,' said Subodai.

'You have great wisdom for a Spear,' said Tenaka, without taking his gaze from the hills.

'This is true. I see your woman is a Drenai. Soft!'

'I like soft women.'

'There is something to be said for them,' agreed Subodai. 'Will you sell me a sword?'

'With what will you pay me?'

'I will give you a Pack-rat pony.'

'Your generosity is matched only by your confidence,' observed Tenaka.

'You are Bladedancer, the Drenai half-blood,' observed Subodia, removing his belted fur jacket and brushing more ants from his squat, powerful body.

Tenaka did not bother to reply; he was watching the dust swirl up in the hills as men took to their horses.

'More than four,' said Subodai. 'About that sword. .?'

'They are leaving,' said Tenaka. 'They will return in greater numbers.' Rising to his feet, he walked to his horse and vaulted to the saddle. 'Goodbye, Subodai!'

'Wait!' called the Nadir. 'The sword?'

'You have not paid me the pony.'

'I will — given time.'

'I have not time. What else can you offer?'

Subodai was trapped. Left here without a weapon, he would be dead within the hour. He contemplated leaping at Tenaka, but dismissed the idea — the violet eyes were disconcerting in their confidence.

'I have nothing else,' he said. 'But you have a thought, I can tell.'

'Be my bondsman for ten days and lead me to the Wolves,' suggested Tenaka.

Subodai hawked and spat. 'That sounds marginally more appealing than dying here. Ten days, you say?'

Ten days.'

'With today counting as one?'

'Yes.'

'Then I agree.' Subodai raised his hand and Tenaka took it, hauling him into the saddle behind him. 'I'm glad my father is no longer alive to see this day,' muttered the Nadir.

As they cantered off to the north Subodai thought about his father. A strong man and a fine rider — but such a temper.

It was his temper that killed him. After a horserace, which Subodai won, his father had accused him of loosening the saddle-cinch on his own mare. The argument had blown up into a full-scale fight with fists and knives.

Subodai still remembered the look of surprise on his father's face as his son's knife rammed home in his chest. A man should always know when to control his temper.

The Nadir twisted in the saddle, his black eyes resting on Renya. Now there was a good woman! Not good for the Steppes, maybe — but good for plenty else.

For nine days more he would serve Bladedancer. After that he would kill him and take his woman.

He turned his gaze to the mounts. They were fine beasts. He grinned suddenly as the full joy of life settled over him once more.

The woman he would take.

The horses he would keep.

For they would be worth riding more than once.

Lake was sweating heavily as he cranked the thick wooden handle, dragging the bow-arm and the twined leather back to the hook. A young man in a leather apron passed him a loosely tied bundle of fifty arrows, which Lake placed in the bowl of the device. Thirty feet down the room, two assistants lifted a thick wooden door into place against the far wall.