The King Beyond the Gate

12

Tenaka found the place of solitude he needed at a sheltered waterfall high in the mountains, where the air was cool and clean and the snow lay in patches on the slopes. Slowly, carefully, he built a fire in a ring of stones and sat watching the flames. He felt no elation at the victory, his emotions washed from him in the blood of the slain. After a while he moved to the stream, remembering the words of Asta Khan, the ancient shaman of the Wolfshead tribe.

'All things in the world are created for Man, yet all have two purposes. The waters run that we might drink of them, but they are also symbols of the futility of Man. They reflect our lives in rushing beauty, birthed in the purity of the mountains. As babes they babble and run, gushing and growing as they mature into strong young rivers. Then they widen and slow until at last they meander, like old men, to join with the sea. And like the souls of men in the Nethervoid, they mix and mingle until the sun lifts them again as raindrops to fall upon the mountains.'

Tenaka dipped his hand into the rushing water. He felt out of place, away from time. A bird hopped on to a rock nearby, ignoring him in its quest for food; it was tiny and brown. Suddenly it dived into the water and Tenaka jerked upright, leaning over the stream to see it flying beneath the surface: an eerie sight. It came to the surface, hopped to a rock and fluttered its feathers; then it returned to the stream. In a strange way Tenaka was soothed by the sight. He observed the bird for a while, then lay back on the grass watching the clouds bunch in the blue sky.

An eagle soared high on the thermals with wings spread, seemingly static as it rose on the warm air.

A ptarmigan fluttered into view, its feathers still mottled and part white — perfect camouflage, for the snow still patched the slopes. Tenaka considered the bird. In winter it was pure white against the snow. In spring it was part white, while in summer the mottling turned slate-grey and brown, allowing it to sit by the boulders — the image of a rock. Its feathers were its only defence.

The ptarmigan rose into the air and the eagle banked sharply, dropping like a stone. But it cut across the sun and its shadow fell athwart the ptarmigan, which swerved just as the talons flashed by. The little speckled bird fled back to the bushes.

The eagle settled on a tree branch close to Tenaka, its dignity ruffled. The Nadir warrior leaned back and closed his eyes.

The battle had been close and the strategy would not work again. They had gained a respite, but that was all. Ceska had sent his Legion to round up a few rebels — had they known Tenaka Khan was here, they would have adopted different tactics. Now they would know. . Now all Ceska's skill would be pitted against Tenaka.

How many men would Ceska range against them now?

There was the rest of the Legion — four thousand men. The regulars numbering ten thousand. The Drenan Pikers, two thousand at the last count. But more terrifying than all the others were the Joinings.

How many now had he created? Five thousand? Ten?

And how could they be rated against common men? One Joining to five? Even that would make them worth 25,000 soldiers.

Ceska would not make the mistake of underestimating the Skoda rebellion a second time.

Weariness settled on Tenaka like a shroud. His first plan had been so simple: kill Ceska and die. Now the complexities of his scheme swirled in his mind like mist.

So many dead, so many still to die.

He moved back to his fire and added fuel; then he lay down beside it, wrapping himself in his cloak. He thought of Illae and his Ventrian home. How good had been the years.

Then Renya's face formed in his thoughts and he smiled. All his life he had been lucky. Sad, lonely, but lucky. To have a mother as devoted as Shillat, that was luck. To find a man like Ananais to stand beside him. To be with the Dragon. To love Illae. To find Renya.

Such good fortune was a gift that more than made up for the loneliness and the pain of rejection. Tenaka began to shiver. Adding more wood, he lay back waiting for the nausea he knew would follow. The headache started first, with bright lights flickering in his eyes. He breathed deeply, calming himself for the onslaught. The pain grew, clawing at his brain with fingers of fire.

For four hours the pain tore at him until he almost wept. Then it receded and he slept. .

He was in a dark corridor, sloping and cold. At his feet were the skeletons of several rats. He stepped over them and the skeletons moved, bones clicking in the silence. Then they ran into the darkness. Tenaka shook his head, trying to remember where he was. Ahead was a dead man hanging in chains, the flesh decomposed.

'Help me!' said the man.

'You are dead. I cannot help you.'

'Why won't you help me?'

'You are dead.'

'We are all dead. And no one will help us.'

Tenaka walked on, seeking a door, moving ever downward.

The corridor widened into a hall with dark pillars soaring into the void. Shadow-shrouded figures moved into sight, black swords in their hands.

'Now we have you, Torchbearer,' said a voice.

They wore no armour and the leader's face was familiar. Tenaka racked his brains for the man's name, but it remained elusive.

'Padaxes,' said the man. 'Even here I can read your frightened mind. Padaxes, who died under the sword of Decado. And yet am I dead? I am not! But you, Torchbearer — you will be dead, for you have entered the dominion of the Spirit. Where are your Templars? Where are the bastard Thirty?'

'This is a dream,' said Tenaka. 'You cannot touch me.'

'Think you so?' Fire leapt from the blade, scorching Tenaka's shoulders. He threw himself back, fear surging within him. Padaxes' laughter was shrill. 'Think you so now?'

Tenaka moved to his feet, drawing his own sword.

'Come, then,' he said. 'Let me see you die a second time.'

The Dark Templars moved forward, spreading in a semi-circle around him. Suddenly Tenaka was aware he was not alone. For a moment, as in his earlier dream, he believed The Thirty had come for him, but when he glanced to his left he saw a powerful, broad-shouldered Nadir warrior in goatskin tunic. Others moved alongside him.

The Templars hesitated and the Nadir beside Tenaka lifted his sword. 'Drive these shadows away,' he told his warriors. Silently a hundred hollow-eyed tribesmen surged forward and the Templars fled before them.

The Nadir turned to Tenaka. His face was broad and flat, his eyes violet and piercing. There pulsed from him an aura of power and strength that Tenaka had not seen in any living man, and he knew him then. He fell to his knees before him and bent forward his body into a deep bow.

'You know me then, blood of my blood?'

'I do, my Lord Khan,' said Tenaka. 'Ulric, Lord of Hordes!'

'I have seen you, boy. Watched you grow, for my old shaman Nosta Khan is with me still. You have not displeased me. . But then your blood is of the finest.'

'Not all have felt it so,' said Tenaka.

'The world is full of fools,' snapped Ulric. 'I fought against the Earl of Bronze and he was a mighty man. And rare. He was a man with doubts, who overcame them. He stood on the walls of Dros Delnoch and defied me with his pitiful force, and I loved him for it. He was a fighter and a dreamer. Rare. So very rare!'

'You met him, then?'

'There was another warrior with him — an old man, Druss. Deathwalker, we called him. When he fell I had his body carried to my camp and we built a funeral pyre. Imagine that. For an enemy! We were on the verge of victory. And that night the Earl of Bronze — my greatest enemy — walked into my camp with his generals and joined me at the funeral.'

'Insane!' said Tenaka. 'You could have taken him and the whole fortress.'

'Would you have taken him, Tenaka?'

Tenaka considered the question. 'No,' he said at last.

'Neither could I. So do not worry about your pedigree. Let lesser men sneer.'

'Am I not dead?' asked Tenaka.

'No.'

'Then how am I here?'

'You sleep. Those Templar maggots pulled your spirit here but I will help you return.'

'What hell is this, and how came you here?'

'My heart failed me during the war against Ventria. And then I was here. It is the Nethervoid, pitched between the worlds of Source and Spirit. It seems I am claimed by neither, so I exist here with my followers. I never worshipped anything but my sword and my wits — now I suffer for it. But I can take it, for am I not a man?'

'You are a legend.'

'It is not hard to become a legend, Tenaka. It is what follows when you have to live like one.'

'Can you see the future?'

'In part.'

'Will I… will my friends succeed?'

'Do not ask me. I cannot alter your fate, much as I might wish to. This is your path, Tenaka, and you must walk it like a man. You were born to walk it.'

'I understand, Lord. I should not have asked.'

'There is no harm in asking,' said Ulric, smiling. 'Come, close your eyes — you must return to the world of blood.'

Tenaka awoke. It was night, yet his fire still burned bright and warm and a blanket had been placed over his sleeping body. He groaned and rolled to his side, raising himself on his elbow. Ananais sat across from the fire, the light flickering on his mask.

'How are you feeling?' asked the giant.

'Good. I needed the rest.'

'Has the pain gone?'

'Yes. Did you bring food?'

'Of course. You had me worried for a while. You turned ghostly white and your pulse was slow as death.'

'I'm all right now.' Tenaka sat up and Ananais tossed him a canvas sack containing dried meat and fruit. They ate in silence. The waterfall glittered like diamonds on sable in the moonlight. Finally Ananais spoke.

'Four hundred of the Legion have joined us. Decado says they will fight true — claims his priests have read their minds. Only three did they turn away. Two hundred others chose to return to Ceska.'

Tenaka rubbed his eyes. 'And?'

'And what?'

'And what happened to those who chose to return?'

'I sent them out of the valley.'

'Ani, my friend, I am back now. I am all right. So tell me.'

'I had them slain in the valley. It was necessary, for they could have given information about our numbers.'

'This was known anyway, Ani — the Templars are watching over us.'

'All right. But even so — it is still two hundred fewer men that they will send against us in the days to come.'

Silence descended again and Ananais lifted his mask gently, probing at the angry scar tissue.

Take the thing off,' said Tenaka. 'Let the air get to the skin.'

Ananais hesitated, then he sighed and removed the leather. In the red firelight he seemed like a demon, inhuman and terrible. His blue eyes were fixed on Tenaka in a piercing stare, as if he were trying to discern some evidence of revulsion.

'Give me your view of the battle,' said Tenaka.

'It went to plan. I was pleased with Rayvan's men, and her son Lake is an asset. The black man fought well. He is a fine warrior. Given a year, I could rebuild the Dragon around these Skoda men.'

'We don't have a year.'

'I know,' said Ananais. 'I reckon two months.'

'We cannot beat them like this, Ani.'

'You have a plan?'

'Yes. But you won't like it.'

'If it means our winning, I will like it,' promised Ananais. 'What is it?'

'I mean to bring the Nadir.'

'You are right — I don't like it. In fact it stinks like rotting meat. If Ceska is bad, the Nadir are worse. Gods, man, at least with Ceska we are still Drenai. Are you out of your mind?'

'It is all we have left, my friend. We have almost a thousand men. We cannot hold Skoda and would be hard-pressed to withstand a single charge.'

'Listen to me, Tani! You know I have never held your blood against you. Not personally. I love you better than a brother. But I hate the Nadir as I hate nothing else on this earth. And I am not alone. No man here will fight alongside them. And suppose you do bring an army? What the hell happens when we win? Do they just go home? They will have beaten the Drenai army; the land will be theirs and we shall have another bloody civil war.'

'I don't see it that way.'

'And how will you bring them? There are no secret ways through the mountains, not even through the Sathuli passes. No army can come from the north save through Delnoch, and even Ulric failed to pass those gates.'

'I have asked Scaler to take Dros Delnoch.'

'Oh, Tani, you have gone mad! He is a fop and a runner who has not joined in one battle so far. When we rescued the village girl, he just buried his head in his hands and lay in the grass. When we found Pagan, he remained with the women. When we were planning yesterday's sortie, he was shaking like grass in a breeze and you told him to stay behind. And he will take Delnoch?'

Tenaka added wood to the fire, discarding the blanket from his shoulders. 'I know all these things, Ani. But it can be done. Scaler is like his ancestor, the Earl of Bronze. He doubts himself and he has great fears. But beyond those fears, if he ever sees it, there waits a fine man — a man of courage and nobility. And he is bright and quick-thinking.'

'Our hopes then rest on him?' asked Ananais.

'No. They rest on my judgement of him.'

'Don't play with words. It is the same thing.'

'I need you with me, Ananais.'

Ananais nodded. 'Why not? We are only talking about death. I will stay with you, Tani. What is life if a man cannot count on his friends when he has gone mad?'

'Thank you, Ani. I mean that.'

'I know. And I am worn out. I shall sleep for a while.'

Ananais lay back, resting his head on his cloak. The night breeze felt good on his scared face. He was tired — more tired than he could ever remember being. It was the weariness of disappointment. Tenaka's plan was a nightmare, yet there were no alternatives. Ceska held the land within the talons of his Joinings and maybe, just maybe, a Nadir conquest would cleanse the nation. But Ananais doubted it.

From tomorrow he would train his warriors as they had never been trained before. They would run until they fell, fight until their arms ached with weariness. He would drill them hard, preparing a force not only to withstand Ceska's legions, but hopefully one that would live on to battle the new enemy.

Tenaka Khan's Nadir.

At the centre of the valley the bodies of the fallen were placed in a hastily dug ditch and covered with earth and rocks. Rayvan said a prayer and the survivors knelt before the mass grave, whispering their own farewells to friends, brothers, fathers and kin.

After the ceremony The Thirty moved away to the hills, leaving Decado and Rayvan and her sons. It was some time before he noticed their absence.

Decado left the fire and went in search of them, but the valley was large and soon he realised the enormity of the task. The moon was high in the sky when he finally came to the conclusion that they had left him behind intentionally: they did not want to be found.

He sat down by a white marble boulder and relaxed his mind, floating down into the whispering realms of the subconscious.

Silence.

Anger nagged at him, dislodging his concentration, but he calmed himself and sought the sanctuary once more.

Then he heard the scream. It came at first as a soft, muted cry and grew into a soul-piercing expression of agony. Decado listened for a while, struggling to identify the source of the sound. Then it came to him. It was Abaddon.

And he knew where The Thirty had travelled: to rescue the Abbot of Swords and free him to die. He also knew that this was folly of the worst kind. He had promised Abaddon that he would look after his charges and now, within a day of the old man's death, they had left him in order to embark on a futile journey, travelling into the realms of the damned.

A terrible sadness assailed Decado, for he could not follow them. So he prayed, but no answer came to him and he expected none.

'What kind of a god are you?' he asked in his despair. 'What do you expect from your followers? You give them nothing and ask for everything. At least with the spirits of darkness there is some communion. Abaddon died for you and still suffers. Now his acolytes will suffer in their turn. Why do you not answer me?'

Silence.

'You do not exist! There is no force for purity. All a man has is his will to do good. I reject you. I want no more to do with you!'

Decado relaxed then and probed deeper into his mind, seeking the mysteries Abaddon had promised him throughout his years of study. He had tried in the past, but never with this sense of desperation. He travelled yet deeper, tumbling and spinning through the roaring of his memories — seeing again the battles and skirmishes, the fears and the failures.

On, on, through the bitter sadness of his childhood, back to his first stirrings in his mother's womb and beyond into separation: seed and egg, driving, waiting.

Darkness.

Movement. The snapping of chains, the soaring freedom.

Light.

Decado floated free, drawn to the pure silver light of the full moon. He halted his rise with an effort of will and gazed down on the curving beauty of the Demon's Smile, but a dark cloud drifted beneath him and obscured the view. He glanced down at his body, white and naked in the moonlight, and joy flooded his soul.

The scream froze him. He remembered his mission and his eyes blazed with cold fire. But he could not travel naked and unarmed. Closing his spirit eyes he pictured armour, the black and silver of the Dragon.

And it was there. But no sword hung at his side, no shield on his arm.

He tried again. Nothing.

The long-ago words of Abaddon drifted back over the years. 'In spirit travel a Source warrior carries the sword of his faith, and his shield is the strength of his belief.'

Decado had neither.

'Damn you!' he shouted into the cosmic night. 'Still you thwart me, even when I am on your business.' He closed his eyes once more. 'If it is faith I need, then I have faith. In myself. In Decado, the Ice Killer. I need no sword, for my hands are death.'

And he flew like a shaft of moonlight, drawn to the scream. He left the world of men with awesome speed, soaring over dark mountains and gloomy plains; two blue planets hovered over the land and the stars were dim and cold.

Below him an ebony castle squatted on a low hill. He halted in his flight, hovering above the stone ramparts. A dark shadow leapt at him and he swerved as a sword-blade flashed by his head. His hand lanced out, gripping the swordsman's wrist, spinning his enemy round. Decado's left hand chopped down at his opponent; the man's neck snapped and he vanished. Decado spun on his heel as a second attacker surged at him. The man wore the dark livery of the Templars. Decado leapt back as the sword cut a glittering semi-circle past his belly. As a back-hand slash hissed at his neck, Decado ducked and dived forward under the blade, ramming his skull under the man's chin. The Templar staggered.

Decado's hand stabbed out, the fingers burying themselves in the Templar's throat. Once more his opponent vanished.

Ahead was a half-open door leading to a deep stair-well. Decado ran forward but then stopped, his senses urging caution. Launching himself feet first, he smashed the door back on its hinges and a man groaned and slumped forward into view. Rolling to his feet, Decado hammered the blade of his foot into the man's chest, caving in the breastbone.

Running on, he took the stairs three at a time to emerge into a wide circular hall. At the centre The Thirty stood in a tight circle, surrounded on all sides by dark-cloaked Templars. Swords clashed silently and no sound issued from the battle. Outnumbered more than two to one, The Thirty were fighting for their lives.

And losing!

They had only one choice left. Flight. Even as he realised this Decado noticed for the first time that he could no longer soar into the air — as soon as he had touched these grim battlements his powers had left him. But why? In that instant he knew the answer; it lay in the words he had used to Abaddon: 'Evil lives in a pit. If you want to fight it, you have to climb down into the slime to do so.'

They were in the pit and the powers of light were lessened here, even as the powers of darkness failed against the hearts of strong men.

'To me!' yelled Decado. 'Thirty to me!'

For a moment the battle ceased as the Templars paused to check the source of the sound. Then six of them peeled off from the battle to charge him. Acuas cut his way into the gap and led the warrior priests towards the stairs.

The Thirty cut and slashed a path, their silver blades shining like torches in the gloom. No bodies lay on the cold stones — any pierced by sword-blade in that bloodless battle merely vanished as if they had never been. Only nineteen priests still stood.

Decado watched death bear down upon him. His skill was great, but no man alive could tackle six men unarmed and survive. But he would try. A great calm settled upon him and he smiled at them.

Two swords of dazzling light appeared in his hands, and he attacked with blistering speed. A left cut, a parry and riposte, a right slash, a left thrust. Three down and gone like smoke in the breeze. The remaining three Templars fell back — into the eldritch blades of The Thirty.

'Follow me!' shouted Decado. Turning, he ran up the stairs ahead of them and out on to the battlements. Leaping to the wall, he gazed down on the jagged rocks so far below. The Thirty came out into the open.

'Fly!' ordered Decado.

'We shall fall!' shouted Balan.

'Not unless I tell you to, you son of a slut! Now move!'

Balan hurled himself from the battlements, swiftly followed by the other sixteen survivors. Last of all Decado leapt to join them.

At first they fell, but once clear of the pull of the castle they soared into the night, hurtling back to the realities of Skoda.

Decado returned to his body and opened his eyes. Slowly he walked towards the eastern woods, drawn by the pulsing mood of despair emanating from the young priests.

He found them in a clearing between two low hills. They had laid out the eleven bodies of the slain and now they prayed, heads bowed.

'Get up!' ordered Decado. 'On your feet!' Silently they obeyed him. 'My, how ridiculous you are! For all your talents you are but children. Tell me, how did the rescue go, children? Have we freed Abaddon? Are we going to have a celebration party? Look me in the eyes, damn you!'

He moved to Acuas. 'Well, yellowbeard, you have excelled yourself. You have achieved what neither the Templars nor the forces of Ceska could accomplish. You have destroyed eleven of your comrades.'

'That is not fair!' shouted Katan, tears in his eyes.

'Be silent!' thundered Decado. 'Fair? I am talking about reality. Did you find Abaddon?'

'No,' said Acuas softly.

'Have you worked out why?'

'No.'

'Because they never had his soul — that would be a feat beyond them. They lured you into their trap by deceit, which is something at which they excel. Now eleven of your brothers are slain. And you carry that burden.'

'And what about you?' said Katan, his normally serene face shaking with fury. 'Where were you when we needed you? What sort of a leader are you? You don't believe in our faith. You are just an assassin! There is no heart in you, Decado. You are the Ice Killer. Well, at least we fought for something we believed in, and travelled to die for a man we loved. All right, we were wrong — but we had no leader once Abaddon was dead.'

'You should have come to me,' replied Decado defensively.

'Why? You were the leader and you should have been there. We did seek you. Often. But even when you discovered your talents — talents we had prayed for — you hovered on the edge of our prayers. You never came forward. When do you eat with us, or talk with us? You sleep alone, away from the fire. You are an outsider. We are here to die for the Source. What are you here for?'

'I am here to win, Katan. If you want to die, just fall on your sword. Or ask me — I will do it for you, I will end your life in an instant. You are here to fight for the Source, to ensure that evil does not triumph in this land. But I will talk no more. I am the leader chosen and I require no oaths from you. No promises. Those who will obey me will come to me in the morning. We will eat together — aye, and pray together. Those who wish to follow their own road may do so. And now I leave you to bury the dead.'

Back in the city the populace cheered the victorious army from the fields a half-mile south, right through to the city centre and the makeshift barracks. But the cheers were muted, for the question remained on everyone's mind: What now? When will Ceska come with his Joinings?

Tenaka, Rayvan, Ananais, Decado and other leaders of the new army met together in the Senate Hall, while Rayvan's sons Lake and Lucas produced maps of the terrain to the east and south.

After an afternoon of heated discussion, it became obvious that much of Skoda was indefensible. The pass at the Demon's Smile could be walled and manned, but it would need a thousand men to hold it for any length of time, while to the north and south some six other passes gave entrance to the valleys and meadows of Skoda.

'It's like trying to defend a rabbit warren,' said Ananais. 'Ceska — even without his Joinings — can put into battle fifty times as many men. They could hit us on any of sixteen fronts. We simply cannot cover the ground.'

'The army will grow,' said Rayvan. 'Even now more men are coming down from the mountains. Word will spread outside Skoda and rebels will flock to join us.'

'Yes,' admitted Tenaka, 'but in that there is a problem. Ceska will send spies, agents, alarmists — they will all filter in.'

'The Thirty will help where they can and ferret out traitors,' said Decado. 'But if too many are allowed in, we will not be able to deal with them.'

'Then we must man the passes, spread The Thirty among the men,' said Tenaka.

And so it went on. Some men wanted to return to their farms to ready the fields for summer, others merely wished to return home with news of their victory. Lake complained that the food supplies were inadequate. Galand told of fights breaking out between Skoda men and the new Legion volunteers.

Throughout the long afternoon and into dusk, the leaders sought answers to the problems. It was agreed, finally, that half the men would be allowed home, so long as they promised to work on the farms of those who stayed behind. At the end of the month the first half would return, to be replaced at home by the others.

Ananais bristled with anger. 'And what of training?' he stormed. 'How in the devil's name do I get them ready for war?'

'They are not regular soldiers,' said Rayvan softly. 'They are working men, with wives and children to feed.'

'What about the city treasury?' asked Scaler.

'What about it?' queried Rayvan.

'How much is there?'

'I have no idea.'

'Then we should check. Since we rule Skoda, the money is ours. We could use it to buy food and stores from the Vagrians. They may not let us pass their borders, but they will not turn back our money.'

'Curse me for a fool!' said Rayvan. 'Of course we must. Lake, check the treasury now — if it has not been already bled dry.'

'We have had a guard on it, mother,' said Lake.

'Even so, get down there now and count it.'

'That will take all night!'

She flashed him an angry look and he sighed.

'All right, Rayvan,' he said. Tm going. But be warned — the moment I have finished I shall wake you with the total!'

Rayvan grinned at him and then turned to Scaler.

'You have a good brain in your head — will you go to Vagria and buy what we need?'

'He cannot,' said Tenaka. 'He has another mission.'

'Hasn't he just!' muttered Ananais.

'Well, I suggest,' interposed Rayvan, 'that we call a halt to tonight's meeting and break for supper. I could eat the best part of a horse. Can't we get together again tomorrow?'

'No,' said Tenaka. 'Tomorrow I leave Skoda.'

'Leave?' said Rayvan, astonished. 'But you are our general.'

'I must, lady -1 have an army to find. But I shall return.'

'Where will you find an army?'

'Among my people.'

The silence in the Senate Hall was devastating. Men exchanged nervous glances and only Ananais seemed unmoved; he leaned back in his chair, placing his booted feet on — the table top.

'Explain yourself,' murmured Rayvah.

'I think you know what I mean,' said Tenaka coolly. 'The one people with enough warriors to trouble Ceska are the Nadir. If I am lucky, I will raise an army.'

'You would bring those murderous savages into the Drenai? They are worse than Ceska's Joinings,' said Rayvan, pushing herself to her feet. 'I will not have it — I will die before those barbarians set foot on Skoda Land.'

All around men hammered their fists on the table in support. Then Tenaka stood up, raising his hands for silence.

'I appreciate the sentiments of everyone here. I was raised among the Nadir and I know their ways. But they do not eat babies, nor do they mate with demons. They are men, fighting men who live for war. It is their way. And they have honour. But I am not here to defend my people -1 am here to give you a chance of staying alive through the summer.

'You think you have won a great victory? You won nothing but a skirmish. Ceska will throw fifty thousand men against you, come the summer. With what will you reply?

'And if you are defeated, what will happen to your families? Ceska will turn Skoda into a desert, and where there were trees there will be gibbets: a land of cadavers, desolate and tormented.

'There is no guarantee that I can raise an army among the Nadir. To them I am tainted by round-eye blood — accursed and less than a man. For they are no different from you. Nadir children are raised on stories of your debaucheries, and our legends are filled with tales of your genocides.

'I do hot seek your permission for what I do. To be truthful, I don't give a damn! I leave tomorrow.'

He sat down to silence and Ananais leaned over to him.

'There was no need to beat about the bush,' he said. 'You should have given it to them straight.'

The comment produced an involuntary snort from Rayvan, which turned into a throaty chuckle.

Around the table the tension turned to laughter while Tenaka sat with arms folded, his face flushed and stern.

Finally Rayvan spoke. 'I do not like your plan, my friend. And I think I speak for everyone here. But you have played fair by us and without you we would now be crow's meat.' She sighed and leaned over the table, placing her hand on Tenaka's arm. 'You do give a damn, or else you would not be here, and if you are wrong — then so be it. I will stand by you. Bring your Nadir, if you can, and I will embrace the first goat-eating dog-soldier who rides in with you.'

Tenaka relaxed and looked long into her green eyes.

'You are quite a woman, Rayvan,' he whispered.

'You would be wise not to forget it, general!'