David Gemmell - Legend

"I will manage," said Dun Hedes.

"And how well will your men manage when they try to ask for advice? What happens if we sound the retreat and you don't hear it? No! The decision's made. Stand down."

"I request the right to see Gan Orrin!"

"As you will. But at the end of today I will have a new Dun for Falcon. Now to business. I want each of you — you included, Hedes — to pick your two strongest men. The best you have at hand-to-hand wrestling, bare-knuckle, whatever. They will have their chance to knock me from my feet. That should lighten the mood. Get to it!"

Dun Mendar called Gilad to him as he returned to his group, then squatted down among the men to outline Druss's idea. Chuckles came from various soldiers as men volunteered swiftly. The noise grew as men clamoured for the right to down the old warrior, and Druss laughed aloud as he sat apart from the men, peeling an orange. At last the pairs were selected and he heaved himself to his feet.

"There is an object to this little exercise, but I shall explain that later on. For now, look upon it as light entertainment," said Druss, hands on hips. "However, I find the audience is always more alert if there is something to be won, so I will offer a free afternoon to any group whose champions down me." A cheer greeted this and he went on, "Mind you, those that don't down me will run an additional two miles," and grinned again as the groans erupted.

"Don't be such faint-hearts. What do you have before you? Here is one old, fat man. We will start with the Bild pair."

The men could have been twins; both were huge, black-bearded, with massively muscled arms and shoulders. Stripped of their armour, they appeared as formidable a pair of warriors as could be seen among the groups.

"Right, my lads," said Druss, "you can wrestle, or punch, or kick or gouge. Begin when you're ready." The old man doffed his jerkin as he spoke and the Bild pair circled slowly, relaxed and smiling. Once on either side of the old man they lunged. Druss dropped to one knee, ducking under a round-house right, then slammed his hand up into the man's groin, grabbing his shirt-front with the other hand and hurling him into his comrade. Both men collapsed to the ground, arms entwined.

Curses exploded from the Bild men seated around the circle, to be drowned by jeers from the other groups.

"Next, Gorbadac!" announced Druss. The two advanced more warily than their predecessors, then the tallest one dived towards Druss's middle with arms outstretched. The axeman's knee came up to meet him and he sagged to the grass. The second attacked almost immediately, only to be backhanded contemptuously across the cheek. He tripped over his fallen comrade and fell heavily. The first man was unconscious and had to be carried to the back of the circle.

"Now, Falcon!" said Druss. This time he watched them advance, then bellowed at the top of his voice and charged. The first man's mouth fell open in surprise, the second took a backward step and tripped. Druss hit the first man with a straight left; he went down and lay still.

"Karnak?" said Druss. Gilad and Bregan entered the circle. Druss had seen the dark one before and liked the look of him. A born warrior, the old man had thought. He enjoyed seeing the look of hatred the boy threw at him every time he laughed at him, and liked the way he had dropped back to help Orrin. Druss flicked his gaze to the second man. Surely here was an error? The chubby one was no fighter, nor would ever be — good-natured and tough, but never a warrior.

Gilad launched himself forward and checked as Druss raised his fists. Druss twisted to keep him in vision; then hearing a sound from behind, he whirled to see the fat one attack, trip, and fall sprawling at his feet. Chuckling he swung back to Gilad — turning into a flying kick that hammered into his chest. He took a backward step to brace himself, but the fat one had rolled behind him and Druss hit the ground with a grunt.

A massive roar rose from two hundred throats. Druss smiled and rolled to his feet smoothly, holding up a hand for silence.

"I want you to think about what you've seen today, my lads," said Druss, "for it wasn't only fun. You have seen what one man can do, and you have also seen what a simple bit of teamwork can achieve.

"Now, when the Nadir are swarming over the walls you will all be hard pressed to defend yourselves — but you've got to do more than that. You've got to protect your comrades where you can, for no warrior has a defence against a sword in the back. I want each of you to find a sword brother. You don't have to be friends — that will come. But you need understanding and you need to work at it. You will protect each other's backs when the assault comes, so make your choices well. Those of you who lose a sword brother when the fighting starts, find another. Failing that, do what you can for the men around you.

"I have been a warrior for more than forty years — twice as long as most of you have lived. Bear that in mind. What I say is of value — for I have survived. There is only one way to survive in war, and that is by being willing to die. You will find soon that fine swordsmen can be downed by untutored savages who would slice their fingers if asked to carve meat. And how? Because the savage is willing. Worse, he may be baresark.

"The man who takes a backward step against a Nadir warrior is stepping into eternity. Meet them head to head, savage to savage.

"You have heard it said that this is a lost cause and you will hear it again. I have heard it a thousand times in a hundred lands. Mostly you hear it from faint-hearts, and can ignore it. Often, however, you will hear it from seasoned veterans. Ultimately such prophecies are worthless.

"There are half a million Nadir warriors. An awesome figure! One to numb the mind. But the walls are only so long and so wide. They cannot all come over at once. We will kill them as they do, and we will kill hundreds more as they climb. And day by day we will wear them down.

"You are going to lose friends, comrades, brothers. You are going to lose sleep. You are going to lose blood. Nothing about the next few months will be easy.

"I am not going to talk about patriotism, duty, liberty and the defence of freedom — because that's all dung to a soldier.

"I want you to think about survival. And the best way you can do that is to look down on the Nadir when they arrive and think to yourselves: 'There are fifty men down there just for me. And one by one, by all the Gods, I'll cut them down.' As for me… well, I'm a seasoned campaigner. I'll take a hundred." Druss took a deep breath, allowing time for his words to sink in. "Now," he said, at last, "you can get back to your duties — with the exception of Group Karnak." Turning, he saw Hogun and as the men hauled themselves to their feet, he walked back towards the mess hall of Wall One with the young general.

"A nice speech," said Hogun. "It sounded very similar to the one you gave this morning at Wall Three."

"You haven't been very attentive, laddie," said Druss. "I have given that speech six times since yesterday. And I've been knocked down three times. I'm as dry as a sand lizard's belly."

"I will stand you a bottle of Vagrian in the mess hall," said Hogun. "They don't serve Lentrian at this end of the Dros — it's too pricey."

"It will do. I see you have regained your good humour."

"Aye. You were right about the Earl's burial. Just too damned quick about being right, that's all," said Hogun.

"What does that mean?"

"Just what it says. You have a way, Druss, of turning your emotions on and off. Most men lack that. It makes you seem what Mendar called you — cold-hearted."

"I don't like the phrase — but it fits," said Druss, pushing open the door to the mess hall. "I mourned Delnar as he lay dying. But once dead, he's gone. And I'm still here. And there's a damned long way to go yet."