David Gemmell - Legend

By the gate tower Joachim Sathuli fell, his side pierced by a thrown-spear. Rek half-carried him beyond the ramparts, but had to leave him, for the Nadir had almost broken through. Joachim gripped the spear with both hands, sweat breaking out on his forehead, and examined the wound. The point had passed through just above the right hip, and broken the skin of his back. The head, he knew, was barbed and there would be no drawing it out. He gripped the spear more firmly, rolled to his side then pushed it further into the wound until the whole of the spear-head cleared his back. He passed out for several minutes, but the gentle touch of a hand roused him. A Sathuli warrior named Andisim was beside him.

"Remove the head of the spear," Joachim hissed. "Quickly!"

Wordlessly the man took his dagger and as gently as possible levered the spear-head from the shaft. At last it was done. "Now," whispered Joachim "pull the shaft clear." Standing above him, the man slowly withdrew the spear as Joachim grunted against the agony. Blood gushed out, but Joachim ripped his robe and plugged the wound, allowing Andisim to do the same for the hole in his back.

"Get me to my feet," he ordered, "and fetch me a tulwar."

Beyond the walls of Eldibar, within his tent, Ulric watched the sands fall in the huge glass. Beside him was the scroll he had received that morning from the north.

His nephew Jahingir had declared himself Kan — overlord of the north. He had slain Ulric's brother, Tsubodi, and taken Ulric's mistress Hasita as hostage.

Ulric could not blame him and felt no anger. His family were born to lead and blood ran true among them.

But he could not dally here and so had set the glass. If the wall had not fallen by the time the sand ran out, he would lead his army north again, win back his kingdom and return to take Dros Delnoch on another day.

He had received the message about Druss holding the tunnel and had shrugged. Alone once more, he had smiled.

So, not even Paradise can keep you from the battle, old man!

Outside his tent stood three men bearing rams' horns, waiting for his signal. And the sands flowed on.

On the wall of Geddon the Nadir broke through to the right. Rek screamed for Orrin to follow him and cut a path along the ramparts. To the left more Nadir gained the ramparts and the Drenai fell back, leaping to the grass and re-forming. The Nadir swarmed forward.

The day was lost.

Sathuli and Drenai waited, swords ready, as the Nadir massed before them. Bowman and Orrin stood beside Rek, and Joachim Sathuli limped towards them.

"I'm glad we are only offering you one day," grunted Joachim, clutching the bloody bandage wedged into his side.

The Nadir spread out before them and charged.

Rek leaned on his sword blade, breathing deeply and saving what was left of his strength. There was no longer the energy inside him to promote a baresark rage, nor the will.

All his life he had feared this moment, and now that it was upon him it was as meaningless as dust upon the ocean. Wearily he focused his gaze on the charging warriors.

"I say, old horse," muttered Bowman, "do you think it's too late to surrender?"

Rek grinned. "Just a little," he said. His hands curled around the sword hilt, he twisted his wrist and the blade hissed into the air.

The front ranks of the Nadir were less than twenty paces from them when the sound of distant rams' horns echoed up from the valley.

The charge slowed…

And stopped. Less than ten paces apart, both sides stood listening to the insistent wailing.

Ogasi cursed and spat, sheathing his sword. He stared sullenly into the astonished eyes of the Earl of Bronze. Rek removed his helm and plunged his sword into the ground before him as Ogasi stepped forward.

"It is over!" he said. He lifted his arm, waving the Nadir back to the walls. Then he turned. "Know this, you round-eyed bastard, it was I, Ogasi, who slew your wife."

It took a few seconds for the words to register, then Rek took a deep breath and removed his gauntlets.

"Do you think it matters, amid all this," said Rek, "to know who fired one arrow? You want me to remember you? I shall. You want me to hate you? I cannot. Maybe tomorrow. Or next year. Maybe never."

For a moment Ogasi stood silent, then he shrugged.

"The arrow was meant for you," he said, weariness settling on him like a dark cloak. Turning on his heel, he followed the departing warriors. Silently they climbed down the ladders and ropes — none took the path through the gate tunnel.

Rek unbuckled his breastplate and walked slowly to the tunnel mouth. Coming towards him was Druss and The Thirty. Rek lifted a hand in greeting, but a wind blew and the warriors vanished into mist and were gone.

"Goodbye, Druss," he said softly.

Later that evening Rek bade farewell to the Sathuli and slept for several hours, hoping for another meeting with Virae. He awoke refreshed — but disappointed.

Arshin brought him food and he ate with Bowman and Orrin. They said little. Calvar Syn and his orderlies had found Hogun's body, and the surgeon was labouring to save the hundreds of wounded men now being carried to the Geddon hospital.

Rek made his way to his room around midnight and removed his armour; then he remembered Serbitar's gift. He was too tired to care, but sleep would not come so he rose and dressed, took a torch from a wall bracket and made his way slowly down into the bowels of the Keep. The door to Egel's room was closed once more, but it opened to him as before.

The lights blazed within as Rek placed his torch against the wall and stepped inside. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed on the crystal block. Within it lay Virae! Upon her body was no mark, no arrow wound; she lay naked and peaceful, seemingly asleep, floating within the transparent crystal. He walked to the block, reached inside and touched her. She did not stir and her body was cold. Stooping, he lifted her clear and placed her on a nearby table. Then he removed his cloak, wrapped it around her and lifted her again. Gathering up the torch he made his slow way back to his room above the Keep hall.

He summoned Arshin and the old retainer blanched as he saw the still form of the Earl's wife. He looked at Rek, then gazed at the floor.

"I am sorry, my lord. I do not know why the white-haired one placed her body in the magic crystal."

"What happened?" asked Rek.

The prince Serbitar and his friend the Abbot came to see me on the day she died. The Abbot had had a dream, he said. He would not explain it to me, but he said it was vital that my lady's body be placed within the crystal. He said something about the Source… I didn't understand it. I still don't, my lord. Is she alive or dead? And how did you find her? We laid her upon this crystal block and she gently sank into it. Yet when I touched it, it was solid. I understand nothing any more." Tears welled in the old man's eyes and Rek moved to him, placing a hand on his bony shoulder.

"It is all hard to explain. Fetch Calvar Syn. I will wait here with Virae."

A dream of Vintar's — what could it mean? The albino had said there were many tomorrows and that no one could ever tell which would come to pass. But he had obviously seen one in which Virae lived and had ordered her body to be preserved. And somehow the wound had been healed inside the crystal. But did that mean she would live?

Virae alive!

His mind reeled. He could neither think nor feel and his body seemed numb. Her death had all but destroyed him, yet now, with her here once more, he was afraid to hope. If life had taught him anything, it had shown him that every man has a breaking point. He knew he was now facing his. He sat by the bed and lifted her cold hand, his own hand shaking with tension, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Crossing the room, he fetched another blanket and covered her, then went to work building a fire in the hearth.