Drenai Saga 02 - The King Beyond the Gate (14 page)

“It is done,” whispered Abaddon. “He has kept his word, and the souls of his warriors are within him.”

“Then do likewise,” ordered Decado.

The Thirty knelt before their leader, heads bowed. Decado felt nothing, yet he knew they had obeyed him.

“Dec, is it you?” called Ananais. Decado waved him to silence and advanced to meet Padaxes.

The black sword hissed forward, to be parried instantly by the silver steel in Decado’s hand. The battle had begun. Tenaka and his companions watched in awe as the warriors circled and struck, blades clashing and clanging.

Time wore on, and desperation became apparent in every move Padaxes made. Fear crept into his heart. Though he anticipated his opponent’s every move, such was the speed of the assault that it availed him nothing. He mind-pulsed a terror thought, but Decado laughed, for death held no terror for him. And then Padaxes knew his doom was sealed, and it irked him greatly that a mortal man could bring about his death. Launching a final savage assault, he experienced the horror of reading Decado’s mind at the last moment, seeing the riposte in the fraction of a second before it was launched.

The silver steel whiplashed his own sword aside and buried itself in his groin. He sank to the ground, his lifeblood pumping to the grass … and the souls of his men died with him.

Sunlight blazed through the darkness, and the Thirty rose to their feet, amazed that life still flowed in their veins.

Acuas walked forward.

“How?” he asked. “How did you win?”

“There is no mystery, Acuas,” said Decado softly. “He was only a man.”

“But so are you!”

“No. I am Decado. The Ice Killer! Follow me at your peril.”

Decado lifted his helm and sucked in a deep breath of cool dawn air. Tenaka shook his head to clear the webs of fear still clinging there.

“Dec!” he called. Decado smiled and walked to him; the men gripped wrists in the warrior’s greeting. Ananais, Galand, and Parsal joined them.

“By all the gods, Dec, you look fine. Very fine!” said Tenaka warmly.

“And you, General. I am glad we were in time.”

“Would you mind telling me,” said Ananais, “just why all those warriors died?”

“Only if you will explain about that mask. It’s ridiculous for someone as vain as you to hide such classical good looks.”

Ananais looked away while the others stood uneasily, the silence growing.

“Will no one introduce me to our rescuer?” said Valtaya, and the moment passed. The Thirty stood aloof as the conversation began, then split into groups of six and moved about collecting wood for camp fires.

Acuas, Balan, Katan, and Abaddon chose a position by a solitary elm. Katan started the fire, and the four of them sat around it, seemingly silent and watching the dancing flames.

“Speak, Acuas,” pulsed Abaddon.

“I am saddened, Abaddon, for our leader is not one of us.

I do not mean that arrogantly, but our order is an ancient one, and always we have sought high spiritual ideals. We do not go to war for the joy of killing but to die in defense of the light. Decado is purely a killer.”

“You are the heart of the Thirty, Acuas, for you have always been emotionally charged. You are a fine man—you care … you love. But sometimes our emotions can blind us. Do not judge Decado yet.”

“How did he kill the Templar?” asked Balan. “It was inconceivable.”

“The eyes of the Thirty and yet you cannot see, Balan. But I will not explain it to you. In time you will tell me. I believe the Source sent Decado to us, and I accepted him. Will one of you tell me why he is the leader?”

Dark-eyed Katan smiled. “Because he is the least among us.”

“But more than that,” said Abaddon.

“It is his only role,” said Acuas.

“Explain, Brother,” Balan asked.

“As a knight he could not communicate with us or travel with us. Every move we made would have been a humiliation for him. Yet we go to a war that he understands. As our leader, his lack of talent is counterbalanced by his authority.”

“Very good, Acuas. Now let the heart tell us where danger lies.”

Acuas closed his eyes and remained mind-silent for several minutes, focusing his concentration.

“The Templars will respond. They cannot suffer this defeat at our hands and allow the deed to go unavenged.”

“And?”

“And Ceska has sent a thousand men to crush the Skoda rebellion. They will arrive in less than a week.”

Some thirty paces from their fire Decado sat with Tenaka, Ananais, Pagan, and Scaler.

“Come on, Dec,” said Ananais. “How did you become the leader of a gang of warrior wizards? There must be a story to it.”

“How do you know I am not a wizard?” countered Decado.

“No, seriously,” Ananais whispered, glancing at the white-cloaked knights. “I mean, they are an eerie bunch. None of them is saying anything.”

“On the contrary,” Decado told him. “They are all talking—mind to mind.”

“Nonsense!” said Ananais, curling his fingers into the sign of the protective horn and holding his hand across his heart.

Decado smiled. “I speak truly.” Turning, he called to Katan, who joined them. “Go on, Ani—ask something,” he ordered.

“I feel foolish,” muttered Ananais.

“Then I shall ask,” said Scaler. “Tell me, my friend, is it true you knights can talk … without talking?”

“It is true,” said Katan softly.

“Would you give us a demonstration?”

“Of what nature?” asked Katan.

“The tall man over there,” said Scaler, pointing and lowering his voice. “Could you ask him to remove his helm and put it on again?”

“If it would please you,” said Katan, and all eyes turned to the warrior some forty paces distant. Obligingly he removed his helm, smiled, and replaced it.

“That’s uncanny,” said Scaler. “How did you do it?”

“It is hard to explain,” said Katan. “Please excuse me.” Bowing to Decado, he rejoined his companions.

“See what I mean?” said Ananais. “Eerie, inhuman.”

“We have men in my land with similar talents,” said Pagan.

“What do they do there?” Scaler asked.

“Very little. We burn them alive,” said Pagan.

“Is that not a little excessive?”

“Perhaps,” answered the black man. “But then, I don’t believe in interfering with tradition.”

Tenaka left them talking and moved across to where Renya sat with Valtaya, Parsal, and the village woman. As Renya watched him approach, her heartbeat quickened.

“Will you walk with me awhile?” he asked. She nodded, and they moved away from the fires. The sun was clear and strong, and its light glinted on the silver streaks in his hair. She longed to reach out and touch him, but instinct made her wait.

“I am sorry, Renya,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand. She looked into the slanted violet eyes and read the anguish there.

“Did you speak the truth? Would you have used that dagger on me?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” she asked softly.

“Do you want to stay?”

“I desire nothing else.”

“Then forgive me for being a fool,” he said. “I am not skilled in these things. I have always been clumsy around women.”

“I am damned glad to hear it,” she said, smiling.

Ananais watched them and his gaze slid to Valtaya. She was talking to Galand, and laughing.

I should have let the Joining kill me, he thought.

8

T
he journey to
Skoda took three days, for the company traveled warily. Acuas told Decado that following the slaying of the soldiers, the Delnoch fortress commander had sent patrols throughout Skultik and the surrounding countryside, while to the south legion riders scouted the lands for rebels.

Tenaka took time to speak with the leaders of the Thirty, for despite the many legends, he knew little of their order. According to the stories, the Thirty were semigods with awesome powers who chose to die in wars against evil. The last time they had appeared had been at Dros Delnoch, when the albino Serbitar had stood beside the Earl of Bronze and defied the hordes of Ulric, the greatest Nadir warlord of all time.

But though Tenaka questioned the leaders, he learned little.

They were courteous and polite—even distantly friendly—but their answers floated above his head like clouds beyond the grasp of common men. Decado was no different; he would merely smile and change the subject.

Tenaka was not a religious man, yet he felt ill at ease among these warrior-priests and his mind constantly returned to the words of the blind seeker.

“Of gold and ice and shadow …” The man had predicted that the trio would come together. And they had. He had also foreseen the danger of the Templars.

On the first night of their journey Tenaka approached the elderly Abaddon, and the two walked away from the fire together.

“I saw you in Skultik,” said Tenaka. “You were being attacked by a Joining.”

“Yes. I apologize for the deceit.”

“What was the reason for it?”

“It was a test, my son. But not merely of you—of ourselves.”

“I do not understand,” said Tenaka.

“It is not necessary that you should. Do not fear us, Tenaka. We are here to help you in whatever way we can.”

“Why?”

“Because it serves the Source.”

“Can you not answer me without religious riddles? You are men. What do you gain from this war?”

“Nothing in this world.”

“You know why I came here?”

“Yes, my son. To purge your mind of guilt and grief, to drown it in Ceska’s blood.”

“And now?”

“Now you are caught up in forces beyond your control. Your grief is assuaged by your love for Renya, but the guilt remains. You did not obey the call—you left your friends to be butchered by the Joinings of Ceska. You ask yourself if it would have been different had you come. Could you have defeated the Joinings? You torment yourself thus.”

“Could I have defeated the Joinings?”

“No, my son.”

“Can I do it now?”

“No,” said Abaddon sadly.

“Then what are we doing here? What is the point?”

“That is for you to say, for you are the real leader.”

“I am not a Torchbearer, priest! I am a man. I choose my own destiny.”

“Of course you do; I did not say otherwise. But you are a man of honor. When responsibility is thrust upon you, can you run from it? No—you never have and you never will. That is what makes you as you are. That is why men follow you, though they hate your blood. They trust you.”

“I am not a lover of lost causes, priest. You may have a desire to die, but I do not. I am not a hero; I am a soldier. When the battle is lost, I retreat and regroup; when the war is over, I lay down my sword. No last dashing charge, no futile last stand!”

“I understand that,” said Abaddon.

“Then know this: No matter how impossible this war, I shall fight to win. Whatever I have to do, I will do. Nothing could be worse than Ceska.”

“Now you are speaking of the Nadir. You want my blessing?”

“Don’t read my mind, damn you!”

“I did not read your mind, only your words. You know the Nadir hate the Drenai. You will merely exchange one bloody tyrant for another.”

“Perhaps. But I shall attempt it.”

“Then we will help you.”

“As simply as that? No pleas, no urgings, no advice?”

“I have told you that your plan with the Nadir carries too many dangers. I shall not repeat myself. But you are the leader; it is your decision.”

“I have told only Arvan. The others would not understand.”

“I shall say nothing.”

Tenaka left him then and walked out into the night. Abaddon sat down with his back against a tree. He was tired, and his soul felt heavy. He wondered then if the abbots before him had known such doubts.

Did the poet Vintar carry such a burden when he rode with the Thirty into Delnoch? One day soon he would know.

He sensed the approach of Decado. The warrior was troubled, but his anger was fading. Abaddon closed his eyes, resting his head against the rough bark of the tree.

“May we talk?” asked Decado.

“The voice may speak to whomever he pleases,” Abaddon answered without opening his eyes.