David Gemmell - Legend

"You are not pledged to stay," said Hogun.

"True. Perhaps I will leave in the morning."

"I don't think you will — though I don't know why," said Hogun.

"Well, if truth be told, I promised that Nadir warrior, Kaska, that I would have another drink with him once they took the Keep. Nice chap — if a trifle maudlin in his cups. He has six wives and twenty-three children. It is a wonder he has the time to come to war."

"Or the strength!" added Hogun, grinning. "And what of you, Rek. Why do you stay?"

"Hereditary stupidity," answered Rek.

"That is not enough," said Bowman. "Come on, Rek — the truth, if you please."

Rek scanned the group swiftly, noting the fatigue on all their faces and realising for the first time that he loved them all.

His eyes met Vintar's and understanding flowed between them. The older man smiled.

"I think," said Rek, "that only the Abbot of Swords can answer that question — for all of us."

Vintar nodded and closed his eyes for several moments. Each man knew he was searching their hearts and minds, yet there was no fear, no embarrassment, no desire any longer to be alone.

"All things that live must die," said Vintar. "Man alone, it seems, lives all his life in the knowledge of death. And yet there is more to life than merely waiting for death. For life to have meaning, there must be a purpose. A man must pass something on — otherwise he is useless.

"For most men, that purpose revolves around marriage and children who will carry on his seed. For others it is an ideal — a dream, if you like. Each of us here believes in the concept of honour: that it is man's duty to do that which is right and just; that might alone is not enough. We have all transgressed at some time. We have stolen, lied, cheated — even killed — for our own ends. But ultimately we return to our beliefs. We do not allow the Nadir to pass unchallenged because we cannot. We judge ourselves more harshly than others can judge us. We know that death is preferable to betrayal of that which we hold dear.

"Hogun, you are a soldier and you have faith in the Drenai cause. You have been told to stand, and will do so without question. It would not occur to you that there were any alternatives but to obey. And yet you understand when others think differently. You are a rare man.

"Bowman, you are a romantic — and yet a cynic. You mock the nobility of man, for you have seen that too often nobility gives way to more base desires. Yet you have secretly set yourself standards which other men will never understand. You, more than any of the others, desire to live. The urge is strong in you to run away. But you will not — not as long as a single man stands to defend these walls. Your courage is great.

"Rek, you are the most difficult to answer for. Like Bowman you are a romantic, but there is a depth to you which I have not tried to plumb. You are intuitive and intelligent, but it is your intuition that guides you. You know it is right that you stay — and also senseless that you stay. Your intellect tells you that this cause is folly, but your intuition forces you to reject your intellect. You are that rare animal, a born leader of men. And you cannot leave.

"All of you are bound together in chains a thousand times stronger than steel.

"And finally there is one — who comes now — for which all I have said remains true. He is a lesser man than any here and yet a greater, for his fears are greater than yours, and yet he also will stand firm and die beside you."

The door opened and Orrin entered, his armour bright and freshly oiled. Silently he sat among them, accepting a goblet of wine.

"I trust Ulric was in good health," he said.

"He has never looked better, old horse," answered Bowman.

"Then we will give him a bloody nose tomorrow," said the general, his dark eyes gleaming.

The dawn sky was bright and clear as the Drenai warriors ate a cold breakfast of bread and cheese, washed down with honeyed water. Every man who could stand manned the walls, blades to the ready. As the Nadir prepared to advance, Rek leapt to the battlements and turned to face the defenders.

"No long speeches today," he shouted. "We all know our plight. But I want to say that I am proud — more proud than 1 could ever have imagined. I wish I could find words…" he stammered to silence, then lifted his sword from its scabbard and held it high.

"By all the gods that ever walked, I swear that you are the finest men I ever knew. And if I could have chosen the end of this tale, and peopled it with heroes of the past, I would not change a single thing. For no one could have given more than you have. And I thank you.

"But if any man here wishes to leave now, he may do so. Many of you have wives, children, others depending on you. If that be the case, leave now with my blessing. For what we do here today will not affect the outcome of the war."

He leapt lightly to the ramparts to rejoin Orrin and Hogun.

Further along the line a young Cul shouted: "What of you, Earl of Bronze. Will you stay?"

Rek stepped to the wall once more. "I must stay, but I give you leave to go."

No man moved, though many considered it.

The Nadir war cry rose and the battle began.

Throughout that long day, no foothold could be gained by the Nadir and the carnage was terrible.

The great sword of Egel lunged and slew, cleaving armour, flesh and bone, and the Drenai fought like demons, cutting and slaying ferociously. For these, as Serbitar had predicted so many weeks ago, were the finest of the fighting men, and death and fear of death had no place in their minds. Time and again the Nadir reeled back, bloodied and bemused.

But as dusk approached the assault on the gates strengthened, and the great barrier of bronze and oak began to buckle. Serbitar led the last of The Thirty to stand, as Druss had done, in the shadow of the gate porch. Rek raced to join them, but a withering mind pulse from Serbitar ordered him back to the wall. He was about to resist when Nadir warriors scrambled over the ramparts behind him. Egel's sword flashed, beheading the first, and Rek was once more in the thick of battle.

In the gateway Serbitar was joined by Suboden, the captain of his Vagrian bodyguard. Only some sixty men were still alive out of the force which had originally arrived.

"Go back to the walls," said Serbitar.

The fair-haired Vagrian shook his head. "I cannot. We are here as your carle-guard and we will die with you."

"You bear me no love, Suboden. You have made that plain."

"Love has little to do with my duty, Lord Serbitar. Even so, I hope you will forgive me. I thought your powers were demon-sent, but no man possessed would stand as you do now."

"There is nothing to forgive, but you have my blessing," Serbitar told the blond carle-captain.

The gates splintered suddenly and with a roar of triumph the Nadir burst through, hurling themselves upon the defenders spearheaded by the white-haired templar.

Drawing a slender Ventrian dagger, Serbitar fought two-handed — blocking, stabbing, parrying and cutting. Men fell before him, but always more leapt to fill the breach he created. Beside him the slim Vagrian carle-captain hacked and hammered at the oncoming barbarians. An axe splintered his shield, but hurling aside the fragments, he took a double-handed grip on his sword, bellowed his defiance and launched himself forward. An axe crushed his ribs and a lance tore into his thigh. He fell into the seething mass, stabbing left and right. A kick sent him sprawling to his back and three spears buried themselves in his chest. Feebly he sought to lift his sword for one last time, but an iron-studded boot stamped on his hand, while a blow from a wooden club ended his life.