The Legend of the Deathwalker

Chapter Thirteen

Premian rolled to his belly and pushed his blistered hands into the cold mud. Lightning had struck three men close to him. They were unrecognizable now. He staggered to his feet, his legs unsteady and dizziness swamping him. The dead and dying were everywhere, and the living staggered around as if drunk.

Some way to his left Premian saw the Lord Gargan sitting beside his dead horse. The man looked old now, and sat with his head in his hands. Premian had been wearing no armour — Gargan had stripped him of his rank, and had sentenced him to thirty lashes for disobedience — but the lack of metal on his frame had saved him during the lightning storm.

Slowly he made his way to the general. Half of Gargan's face was blistered and black. He looked up as Premian approached, and the younger man had to mask his horror at the sight. Gargan's left eye was gone, and blood flowed from the empty socket.

'All finished,' mumbled the general. 'The savages have won.' Premian knelt by him and took his hand, unable to think of anything to say. 'They murdered my mother,' said Gargan. 'I was five years old. She hid me under some sacking. They raped and murdered her. And I watched. I. . wanted to help her. Couldn't. Just lay there and wet myself with fear. Then my son. .' Gargan drew a long shuddering breath. 'Fetch me a sword."

'You don't need a sword, my Lord. It is over.'

'Over? You think it is over? It will never be over. Them or us, Premian. Now and for ever.' Gargan sagged to his right. Premian caught him and lowered him to the ground. 'I can hear horses,' whispered the general. And he died.

Premian glanced up to see the line of cavalry moving towards him and he stood as they approached. A cavalry general rode up and glanced down at the dead Lord of Larness.

'I had orders for his arrest and immediate execution,' he said. 'It is just as well he is gone. I had a great respect for him.'

'Arrest? On what charge?' Premian asked.

'Who are you?' responded the general.

'Premian, sir.'

'Ah, good. I am also carrying orders for you. You are to take command of the Lancers and return to Gulgothir.' Swinging in his saddle, he surveyed the chaos. 'Your force will not be a large one, I fear. What happened here?'

Swiftly Premian told him. Then: 'Does the attack continue, sir?' he asked.

'The sacking of a Shrine? Great Heavens, no! What an utter waste of good men. I can't think what possessed Gargan to lead such a lunatic venture.'

'I believe he was under orders, sir.'

'All orders are changed now, Premian. We have a new Emperor. The madman is dead — killed by his own Guards. There is sanity once more in Gulgothir.'

'Praise the Source for that,' said Premian, with feeling.

Upon the walls of the Shrine Druss, Talisman and the defenders watched a rider move slowly from the devastated camp. He was wearing no armour, and his silver hair shone in the sunlight.

'Shemak's Balls, it's Majon!' said Sieben. 'He rides that horse with all the grace of a carrot sack.'

'Who is Majon?' asked Talisman, his face grey with the pain of his wounds.

'The Drenai ambassador. Best advise your men not to shoot at him.' Talisman relayed the order as Majon rode closer; his long face was pinched and tight, and Druss could see the fear in the man.

'Ho, Druss!' called Majon. 'I am unarmed. I come as a herald.'

'No-one is going to hurt you, ambassador. We'll lower a rope for you.'

'I am quite comfortable here, thank you,' he replied, his voice shaking.

'Nonsense,' Druss called out. 'Our hospitality is well known, and my friends here would think themselves insulted if you didn't join us.'

A rope was lowered and the ambassador dismounted. Removing his sky-blue cape, which he draped over his saddle, he took hold of the rope and was hauled to the ramparts. Once there Druss introduced him to Talisman. 'He's one of the kings among the Nadir,' said Druss. 'An important man.'

'Delighted to meet you, sir,' said Majon.

'What words do you bring from the enemy?' countered Talisman.

'There are no enemies here, sir,' Majon told him. 'The. . battle is over. The cavalry force you see before the walls was sent to arrest the renegade Gargan. The general, Cuskar, has asked me to assure you that all hostilities are now at an end, and that the Shrine will not be despoiled by any Gothir soldier. Equally, you and all your men are free to go. Your actions against the renegade Gargan will not be seen as crimes against the new Emperor.'

'New Emperor?' put in Druss.

'Yes, indeed. The madman is dead — killed by two of his Guards. There is a new order now in Gulgothir. The scenes in the city were wonderful to behold, Druss. Dancing and singing in the streets, no less. The new Emperor's government is being led by a minister of rare culture and breeding: his name is Garen-Tsen and it seems he has been working behind the scenes for some time in order to overthrow the God-King. A charming man, with a great understanding of diplomacy. Already we have signed three trade agreements.'

'You mean we won?' said Sieben. 'And we are all going to live?'

'I believe that puts the facts succinctly,' said Majon. 'One small matter, Druss, my friend,' added the ambassador, drawing the axeman away from the others. 'Garen-Tsen asked me to mention the matter of some jewels said to be hidden here.'

'There were no jewels,' said Druss bitterly. 'Just old bones and new deaths.'

'You. . er. . searched the coffin, did you?'

'Yes. Nothing. It's all a myth.'

'Ah, well. It matters not, I am sure.' Returning to Talisman, the ambassador bowed again. 'The general Cuskar has brought three surgeons with him. He has asked me to offer you their services for your wounded.'

'We have a good surgeon, but thank the general for his kindness,' said Talisman. 'In return for such goodwill, do tell the general that if he brings his water wagons to the walls I will see that the barrels are filled.'

Druss and Gorkai lowered Majon to the ground. The ambassador mounted his horse, waved once, then cantered back to the Gothir camp.

Talisman sank back to the ramparts. 'We won,' he said.

'That we did, laddie. But only just.'

Talisman held out his hand. 'You are a man among men, Deathwalker,' he said. 'On behalf of my people, I thank you.'

'You should get back to the hospital,' said Druss, 'and let our fine surgeon tend to you.' Talisman smiled and, with the support of Zhusai and Gorkai, made his way down the rampart steps. In the compound below the Nadir had formed into loose groups, talking excitedly about the battle. Lin-tse watched them dispassionately, but in his eyes there was sadness.

'What is wrong?' asked Sieben.

'Nothing a gajin could see,' said the warrior, walking away.

'What was he talking about, Druss?'

'They are all with their own tribesmen. The mixing has ended. They came together for this one battle, and now they are drawing apart again — the way of the Nadir perhaps.' Druss sighed. 'Ah, but I am weary, poet. I need to see Rowena again, to breathe the air of the mountains. By Heavens, it would be nice to smell the sweet breeze coming over the long grass and the pine meadows.'

'It would indeed, Druss, old horse.'

'First we must return to Gulgothir. I want to see Klay. We'll rest for a couple of hours, then ride out.'

Sieben nodded. 'Niobe is coming with us. I'm going to marry her, Druss — give her babies and an iron fire-bucket!'

Druss chuckled. 'I expect it will be in that order.'

Sieben returned to the hospital where Talisman was sleeping soundly. In the small office he found a strip of parchment, a quill pen and an inkwell that was almost dry. Adding a little water to the ink, he penned a short message upon the parchment. When the ink was dry he folded the parchment into four and walked back into the larger room. Kneeling by Talisman, he slid the message under a fold of the bandage around his chest and used the power of the Eyes of Alchazzar to heal the Nadir leader.

One by one he visited all the wounded, leaving them all asleep, their wounds vanished.

At the last he stood in the doorway and looked back, satisfied. Many men had died defending this Shrine, but there were others, Talisman among them, who would have died had it not been for him. The thought pleased the poet.

He glanced up at the battlements, where Druss was stretched out asleep. Sieben climbed the rampart steps and healed him also.

Lin-tse and his Sky Riders were dismantling the wall around the gates. Sieben sat upon the walls watching them. The sky was a glorious blue, and even the hot breeze tasted good upon the tongue.

I am alive, he thought. Alive and in love. If there is a better feeling in all the world, I have yet to taste of it, he decided.