David Gemmell - Legend

"Before dusk," predicted Druss.

Back on the walls, Gilad and Bregan watched the dust from the Nadir horsemen dwindle into the distance.

"What did he mean, Gil, about riding to Drenan for discussions with Abalayn?"

"He meant he wants us to let his army through."

"Oh. They didn't look terribly fierce, did they? I mean they seem quite ordinary really, save that they wear furs."

"Yes, they are ordinary," said Gilad, removing his helm and combing his hair with his fingers, allowing the cool breeze to get to his head. "Very ordinary. Except that they live for war. Fighting comes as naturally to them as farming does to you. Or me," he added as an afterthought, knowing this to be untrue.

"I wonder why?" said Bregan. "It has never made much sense to me. I mean, I understand why some men become soldiers: to protect the nation and all that. But a whole race of people living to be soldiers seems… unhealthy? Does that sound right?"

Gilad laughed. "Indeed it sounds right. But the northern steppes make poor farmland. Mainly they breed goats and ponies. Any luxuries they desire, they must steal. Now to the Nadir, so Dun Pinar told me at the banquet, the word for stranger is the same as the word for enemy. Anyone not of the tribe is simply there to be killed and stripped of goods. It is a way of life. Smaller tribes are wiped out by larger tribes. Ulric changed the pattern; by amalgamating beaten tribes into his own, he grew more and more powerful. He controls all the northern kingdoms now, and many to the east. Two years ago he took Manea, the sea kingdom."

"I heard about that," said Bregan. "But I thought he had withdrawn after making a treaty with the king."

"Dun Pinar says the king agreed to be Ulric's vassal and Ulric holds the king's son hostage. The nation is his."

"He must be a pretty clever man," said Bregan. "But what would he do if he ever conquered the whole world? I mean, what good is it? I would like a bigger farm and a house with several floors. That I can understand. But what would I do with ten farms? Or a hundred?"

"You would be rich and powerful. Then you could tell your tenant fanners what to do and they would all bow as you rode past in your fine carriage."

"That doesn't appeal to me, not at all," said Bregan.

"Well, it does to me," said Gilad. "I've always hated it when I had to tug the forelock for some passing nobleman on a tall horse. The way they look at you, despising you because you work a smallholding; paying more money for their hand-made boots than I can earn in a year of slaving. No, I wouldn't mind being rich — so pig-awful rich that no man could ever look down on me again."

Gilad turned his face away to stare out over the plains — his anger fierce, almost tangible.

"Would you look down on people then, Gil? Would you despise me because I wanted to remain a farmer?"

"Of course not. A man should be free to do what he wants to do, as long as it doesn't hurt others."

"Maybe that's why Ulric wants to control everything. Maybe he is sick of everyone looking down on the Nadir."

Gilad turned back to Bregan and his anger died within him.

"Do you know, Breg, that's just what Pinar said, when I asked him if he hated Ulric for wanting to smash the Drenai. He said, 'Ulric isn't trying to smash the Drenai, but to raise the Nadir.' I think Pinar admires him."

"The man I admire is Orrin," said Bregan. "It must have taken great courage to come out and train with the men as he has done. Especially being as unpopular as he was. I was so pleased when he won back the Swords."

"Only because you won five silver pieces on him," Gilad pointed out.

"That's not fair, Gil! I backed him because he was Karnak; I backed you too."

"You backed me for a quarter-copper and him for a half-silver, according to Drebus who took your bet."

Bregan tapped his nose, smiling. "Ah, but then you don't pay the same price for a goat as for a horse. But the thought was there. After all, I knew you couldn't win."

"I damn near had that Bar Britan. It was a judge's decision at the last."

"True," said Bregan. "But you would never have beaten Pinar, or that fellow with the earring from the Legion. But what's even more to the point, you never could have beaten Orrin. I've seen you both fence."

"Such judgement!" said Gilad. "It's small wonder to me that you didn't enter yourself, so great is your knowledge."

"I don't have to fly in order to know that the sky is blue," said Bregan "Anyway, who did you back?"

"Gan Hogun."

"Who else? Drebus said you had placed two bets," said Bregan innocently.

"You know very well. Drebus would have told you."

"I didn't think to ask."

"Liar! Well, I don't care. I backed myself to reach the last fifty."

"And you were so close," said Bregan. "Only one strike in it."

"One lucky blow and I could have won a month's wages."

"Such is life," said Bregan. "Maybe next year you can come back and have another try?"

"And maybe corn will grow on the backs of camels!" said Gilad.

Back at the Keep, Druss was struggling to keep his temper as the City Elders argued back and forth about the Nadir offer. Word had spread to them with bewildering speed, and Druss had barely managed to eat a chunk of bread and cheese before a messenger from Orrin informed him that the Elders had called a meeting.

It was a Drenai rule, long established, that except in time of battle the Elders had a democratic right to see the city lord and debate matters of importance. Neither Orrin nor Druss could refuse. No one could argue that Ulric's ultimatum was unimportant.

Six men constituted the City Elders, an elected body which effectively ruled all trade within the city. The Master Burgher and chief elder was Bricklyn, who had entertained Druss so royally on the night of the assassination attempt. Malphar, Backda, Shinell and Alphus were all merchants, while Beric was a nobleman, a distant cousin of Earl Delnar and highly-placed in city life. Only lack of real fortune kept him at Delnoch and away from Drenan, which he loved.

Shinell, a fat, oily silk merchant, was the main cause of Druss's anger. "But surely we have a right to discuss Ulric's terms and must be allowed a say in whether they are accepted or rejected," he said again. "It is of vital interest to the city, after all, and by right of law our vote must carry."

"You know full well, my dear Shinell," said Orrin smoothly, "that the City Elders have full rights to discuss all civil matters. This situation hardly falls within that category. Nevertheless, your point of view is noted."

Malphar, a red-faced wine dealer of Lentrian stock, interrupted Shinell as he began his protest. "We are getting nowhere with this talk of rules and precedent. The fact remains that we are virtually at war. Is it a war we can win?" His green eyes scanned the faces around him and Druss tapped his fingers on the table-top, the only outward sign of his tensions. "Is it a war we can carry long enough to force an honourable peace? I don't think it is," continued Malphar. "It is all a nonsense. Abalayn has run the army down until it is only a tenth of the size it was a few years ago. The navy has been halved. This Dros was last under siege two centuries ago, when it almost fell. Yet our records tell us that we had forty thousand warriors in the field."

"Get on with it, man! Make your point," said Druss.

"I shall, but spare me your harsh looks, Druss. I am no coward. What I am saying is this: If we cannot hold and cannot win, what is the point of this defence?"

Orrin glanced at Druss and the old warrior leaned forward. "The point is," he said, "that you don't know whether you've lost — until you've lost. Anything can happen: Ulric could suffer a stroke; plague could hit the Nadir forces. We have to try to hold."