David Gemmell - The King Beyond the Gate

'No.'

'You are generous.'

'Had you stayed with me, you would have found out how generous.'

'Is it too late?'

'Indeed it is. You have one hour.'

As Tenaka turned to walk back to his tent, Ingis fell into step beside him. 'You are a subtle man, Tenaka Khan.'

'Did you think otherwise, Ingis?'

'Not at all, my lord. May I give my son, Sember, command of Murapi's wolves?'

'No, I will command them.'

'Very well, my lord.'

'Tomorrow they will guard my tent.'

'You like living dangerously?'

'Goodnight, Ingis.'

Tenaka stepped inside the tent and made his way to Subodai's bed. The warrior was sleeping soundly and his colour was good. Then he moved on into the rear section of the tent where Renya lay. He touched her brow and she woke, her eyes returned to normal.

'Did you find me?' she whispered.

'I found you.'

'Then you know?'

'I know.'

'Mostly I control it. But tonight there were so many of them and I thought you would die. I lost control.'

'You saved me.'

'How is Subodai? Did he live?'

'Yes.'

'He adores you.'

'Yes.'

'So. . tired,' she said. Her eyes closed and, leaning forward, he kissed her lips.

Her eyes opened. 'You are trying to save Ananais, aren't you?' Her lids drooped once more. He lifted the blanket around her and returned to the centre of the tent.

There he sat down and poured himself a goblet of Nyis, sipping it slowly.

Was he trying to save Ananais?

Truly?

Or was he glad that the decision had been taken from him?

If Ananais were to die, what would stop him from continuing his war deep into the Drenai lands?

True he was not hurrying, but then what was the point? Decado had told him they could not hold. What purpose would it serve, driving his men day and night to arrive exhausted at the battlefield?

What purpose?

He pictured Ananais standing defiantly before Ceska's hordes, sword in hand, blue eyes blazing.

He cursed softly.

And sent for Ingis.

The Legion swept forward and Lake's giant bows let fly with the last of the lead shot. Scores of men went down, mostly with leg injuries, for the infantry were more wary now and advanced with their shields held high. Archers sent a black cloud of arrows into their advancing ranks, then the ladders crashed against the walls.

The men of Skoda had moved beyond weariness and they fought like automatons. Their swords were blunted, their arms aching. Yet still they held.

Lake swept up a battle-axe, cleaving the blade through a helm that appeared over the battlements. The axe lodged in the skull and was torn from his grip as the man fell. Another soldier heaved his way over the wall, but Ananais ran forward to pitch the invader head-first to the ground below. He handed one of his two swords to Lake, then ran to the right where the line was bending back.

Balan joined him. And Galand. The defenders steadied, and rallied. To the left three Legion warriors broke through, leaping from the ramparts to the grass below and sprinting towards the hospital building. The first fell, an arrow piercing his back. The second stumbled as another shaft glanced from his helm, stunning him. Then Rayvan stepped from the building with sword in hand.

The men grinned as they ran at her.

With surprising speed she blocked the first blow and then dived into them, her great weight hurling them to the ground. Her sword snaked out, slicing the throat of the first.

The second man rolled clear. 'You fat sow!' he yelled.

Rayvan heaved herself upright as the man charged forward. Then Thorn loosed an arrow that thudded into the soldier's thigh; he shouted in pain and swung round. Rayvan's sword plunged into his back. She watched the battle on the wall for several moments. . The line would not hold for much longer.

Galand fought beside Ananais now, moving where the battle was most deadly. The Legion, sensing victory close at hand, did not fall back but milled below the wall, pushing their ladders high. More and more Legion men gained the ramparts.

Ananais could feel the battle ebbing from them and a cold fury settled over him. Despite the odds against them, and his certain knowledge that they could not win, it still galled him terribly. He had done little with his life, save never to lose. Now even this small comfort was being stripped from him at the death.

He blocked a lunge, spun his blade and plunged it up and under a black helm. The man fell back, dropping his sword which Ananais swept up as he advanced into the mass, two swords now whirling and killing. He was bleeding from a score of minor cuts, but his strength was unimpaired.

A tremendous roar went up from behind the wall. Ananais could not turn, but he saw the consternation in the eyes of the invaders. Suddenly Rayvan was beside him, a shield on her arm and a sword in her hand. The Legion were pushed back.

The women of Skoda had arrived!

Lacking skill with weapons, they threw themselves forward lashing out blindly, bearing the invaders before them by sheer weight of numbers.

The last Legion warrior was hurled from the wall and the Skoda men took up their bows, sending the invaders running back out of range.

'Clear the dead from the ramparts!' shouted Ananais.

For several moments there was no movement as men hugged their wives and daughters, sisters and mothers. Others knelt by still bodies, weeping openly.

'There is no time for this,' said Ananais, but Rayvan caught his arm.

'There is always time for this, Darkmask — it is what makes us human. Leave them be.'

Ananais nodded and sagged to the ramparts, pushing his aching back against the wall.

'You amaze me, woman!'

'You are easily amazed,' she said, sliding in beside him.

He glanced at her and grinned. 'I'll bet you were a beauty in your youth?'

'I've heard you were, too!'

He chuckled and closed his eyes.

'Why don't we get married?' he suggested.

'We shall be dead by tomorrow.'

'Then we should forget about a long engagement.'

'You are too old for me, Darkmask.'

'How old are you?'

'Forty-six,' said Rayvan.

'Perfect!'

'You must be desperate. And you are bleeding — get off and have those wounds seen to.'

'One proposal and already you are starting to nag.'

'Women are like that. Go on with you!'

She watched him walk to the hospital, then pulled herself to her feet and transferred her gaze to the Legion. They were forming up again.

Rayvan turned to the defenders. 'Clear the dead from the walls, you numbskulls!' she shouted. 'Come on now. Move yourselves. You women, grab some swords. And find yourselves some helmets,' she yelled as an afterthought. A dead Legion soldier lay close to her and she tugged loose his.helm before rolling the body from the ramparts. The helm was bronze with a black horse-hair plume. It fitted well, she thought, as she buckled the chin-strap.

'You looked damned fetching, Rayvan,' said Thorn, moving alongside her.

'Fancy people in helmets, do you, you old stag?'

'I have always fancied you, woman! Ever since that day in the north meadow.'

'Ah, you do remember? That is a compliment.'

Thorn laughed. 'I don't think any man would forget you.'

'Only you would talk about sex in the middle of a battle. You are a goat, old man! At least Ananais had the courtesy to ask me to marry him.'

'Did he now? Don't accept — he has a roving eye.'

'It won't rove far in a day,' she said.

The Legion charged again.

For an hour they fought to gain a toehold on the ramparts, but the defenders had found fresh strength and courage. Lake had gathered sacks of small stones which he poured into the bowls of his giant bows. Three times the missiles whistled and slashed into the Legion before one of the bows snapped under the strain.