Drenai Saga 02 - The King Beyond the Gate (9 page)

“Welcome!” said Tenaka lamely, spreading his hands.

Scaler walked forward. “Our presence in your camp is temporary,” he said. “Your friend helped Valtaya, and it was vital that we leave the city. Now that she is safe, we shall return.”

“I see. Join us for food first,” offered Tenaka.

The silence around the fire was uncomfortable, but Ananais ignored it, taking his food to the edge of the trees and sitting with his back to the group so that he could remove his mask and eat.

“I have heard much of you, Tenaka,” said Valtaya.

He turned to her. “Much of what people say is untrue.”

“There is always a grain of truth at the center of such sagas.”

“Perhaps. Where did you hear the stories?”

“From Scaler,” she replied.

Tenaka nodded and turned to the young man, who was blushing furiously. “And where did you hear them, my friend?”

“Here and there,” replied Scaler.

“I was a soldier. Nothing more. My ancestry gave me fame. I could name many better swordsmen, better riders, better men. But they had no name to carry before them like a banner.”

“You are too modest,” said Scaler.

“It is not a question of modesty. I am half-Nadir of the line of Ulric and half-Drenai. My great-grandfather was Regnak, the Earl of Bronze. And yet I am neither earl nor khan.”

“The Khan of Shadows,” said Scaler.

“How did such a thing come about?” asked Valtaya.

Tenaka grinned. “It was the Second Nadir War, and Regnak’s son Orrin made a treaty with the Nadir. Part of the price was that his son, Hogun, should marry the khan’s daughter, Shillat. It was not a marriage of love. It was a grand ceremony, I am told, and the union was consummated near the Shrine of Druss on the northern plain before Delnoch. Hogun took his bride back to the fortress, where she dwelled unhappily for three years. I was born there. Hogun died in a riding accident when I was two, and his father sent Shillat home. It was written into the marriage contract that no child of the union could inherit Dros Delnoch. And as for the Nadir, they desired no half-breed to lead them.”

“You must have been very unhappy,” said Valtaya.

“I have known great joys in my life. Do not feel pity for me, lady.”

“How did you come to be a Dragon general?”

“I was sixteen when the khan, my grandfather, sent me to Delnoch. Again it was part of the marriage contract. My other grandfather was there to greet me. He told me he had arranged a commission in the Dragon. It is that simple!”

Scaler stared into the fire, his mind flowing back.

Simple? How could such a terrible moment be described as simple?

It was raining, he remembered, when the guard on the Eldibar tower sounded the trumpet. His grandfather Orrin had been in the keep, engaged in a war game with their guest. Scaler was perched on a high chair, watching them roll the dice and move the tiny regiments, when the trumpet call echoed eerily in the storm winds.

“The Nadir spawn has arrived,” said Orrin. “He picked the right day for it.”

They dressed Scaler in a cloak of oiled leather and a wide-brimmed leather hat, then began the long walk to Wall One.

Once there, Orrin gazed down on the twenty riders and the dark-haired youth on the white shaggy pony.

“Who seeks entry to Dros Delnoch?” called Orrin.

“The son of Shillat,” yelled the Nadir captain.

“He only may enter,” said Orrin.

The great gates creaked open, and the Nadir troop wheeled their mounts, riding swiftly back to the north.

Tenaka did not turn to watch them go, and no word passed between them. The youth touched his heels to the pony and cantered into the gate tunnel and up onto the green field between walls One and Two. There he slid from the saddle and waited for Orrin to approach.

“You are not welcome here,” said Orrin, “but I will stand by my bargains. I have arranged a commission in the Dragon, and you will leave in three months. Until then you will learn Drenai ways. I want no relative of mine eating with his fingers in the officers’ mess.”

“Thank you, Grandfather,” said Tenaka.

“Don’t call me that,” snapped Orrin. “Not ever! You will call me ‘my lord’ or, in company, ‘sir.’ Do you understand?”

“I believe that I do, Grandfather. And I shall obey you.” Tenaka’s gaze flickered to the child.

“This is my true grandson,” said Orrin. “All my children are dead. Only this little lad survives to continue my line. His name is Arvan.”

Tenaka nodded and turned to the dark-bearded man to Orrin’s left.

“And this is a friend of the House of Regnak—the only counselor worth his salt in the entire country. His name is Ceska.”

“Delighted to meet you,” said Ceska, reaching out his hand. Tenaka clasped it firmly, his gaze locking to the man’s dark eyes.

“Now let us get inside and out of this damned rain,” muttered Orrin. Lifting the child to his broad shoulders, the white-bearded earl strode away toward the distant keep. Tenaka gathered the reins of his pony and followed, Ceska beside him.

“Do not be upset by his manner, young prince,” said Ceska.

“He is old and set in his ways. But he is a fine man, truly. I hope you will be happy among the Drenai. If ever there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to tell me.”

“Why?” asked Tenaka.

“I like you,” said Ceska, clapping him on the shoulder.

“And who knows, you may be earl some day.”

“That is unlikely.”

“True, my friend. But the House of Bronze has been unlucky of late. As Orrin said, all his children are gone. Arvan alone survives.”

“He looks a strong child.”

“Indeed he does. But looks can be so deceptive, can they not?”

Tenaka was not sure he understood the meaning of Ceska’s words, but he knew there were undercurrents of dark promises. He said nothing.

Later Tenaka listened in silence as Valtaya talked of the rescue in the marketplace and of their bribing a night sentry to let them pass through the northern postern gate of the city. Ananais had brought a huge pack of food, plus two bows and eighty shafts in doeskin quivers. Valtaya had extra blankets and a rolled canvas sheet for a small tent.

After they had eaten, Tenaka took Ananais into the trees. They found a secluded spot and cleared the snow from some rocks before sitting down to talk.

“There is an uprising in Skoda,” said Ananais. “Two villages were sacked by Ceska’s legion. A local named Rayvan gathered a small army and destroyed the raiders. They say men are flocking to him, but I don’t think he can last. He’s a common man.”

“Not of the blood, you mean,” said Tenaka dryly.

“I have nothing against common men. But he has not the training to plan a campaign.”

“What else?”

“Two risings in the west, both ruthlessly put down. All the men crucified, fields sown with salt. You know the system!”

“What about the south?”

“Difficult to say. News is scarce. But Ceska’s there. On hand. I don’t think they will rise. It is said that there is a secret society against Ceska, but that is likely to be no more than talk.”

“What do you suggest?” asked Tenaka.

“Let us go to Drenan, kill Ceska, and then retire.”

“That simple?”

“The best plans are always simple, Tani.”

“What about the women?”

Ananais shrugged. “What can we do? You say Renya wants to be with you. Let her come. We can leave her with friends in Drenan. I still know one or two people I think we can rely on.”

“And Valtaya?”

“She won’t stay with us. There is nothing for her. We will leave her in the next town.”

Tenaka raised an eyebrow. “Nothing for her?”

Ananais looked away. “Not anymore, Tani. Once, maybe.”

“All right. We will head for Drenan but angle to the west. Skoda should be beautiful at this time of the year.”

Side by side they returned to the camp, where they found three strangers waiting. Tenaka spoke softly: “Scout around, Ani. See how many other surprises are in the offing.” Then he walked forward. Two of the men were warriors, both about the same age as Tenaka himself. The third was an old man, blind and wearing the tattered blue robes of the seekers.

The warriors approached him. They were uncannily alike, black-bearded and stern of eye, though one was fractionally taller than the other. It was the shorter man who spoke.

“I am Galand, and this is my brother, Parsal. We have come to join you, General.”

“For what purpose?”

“To put down Ceska. Why else?”

“I need no help for that, Galand.”

“I don’t know what game this is, General. The Golden One was in Sousa, and he told the crowd the Dragon was back. Well, if that is so, then I reckon I am back, too. You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“In truth I do not,” said Tenaka.

“I was not bearded then. I was Bar Galand of the third wing under Elias. I was the swordmaster, and I beat you in a tourney once.”

“I remember. The half-moon riposte! You would have ripped out my throat. As it was, I had a ghastly bruise.”

“My brother is as good a man as I. We want to serve.”

“There is nothing to serve, my friend. I plan to kill Ceska. That is the work of an assassin, not an army.”

“Then we will stick by until the deed is done! I was sick with fever when the call came and the Dragon re-formed. I have been sick with sorrow since. A lot of fine men were lured into that trap. It does not seem right.”

“How did you find us?”

“I followed the blind man. Strange, don’t you think?”

Tenaka moved to the fire and sat down opposite the seeker.

The mystic’s head lifted. “I seek the Torchbearer,” he said, his voice a dry whisper.

“Who is he?” asked Tenaka.

“The dark spirit is over the land like a great shadow,” whispered the man. “I seek the Torchbearer, from whom all shadows flee.”

“Who is this man you seek?” persisted Tenaka.

“I don’t know. Is it you?”

“I doubt it,” answered Tenaka. “Will you eat with us?”

“My dreams told me the Torchbearer would bring me food. Is it you?”

“No.”

“There are three,” said the man. “Of gold, and ice, and shadow. One is the Torchbearer. But which one? I have a message.”

Scaler moved forward to crouch at the man’s side.

“I seek the truth,” he said.

“I have the truth,” replied the mystic, extending his hand. Scaler dropped a small silver coin into his palm.

“Of bronze you sprang, haunted and hunted, drawn on your father’s path. Kin to shadow, never resting, never silent. Dark spears hover, black wings to devour. You will stand when others flee. It is in the red you carry.”

“What does it mean?” asked Tenaka. Scaler shrugged and moved away.

“Death calls me. I must answer,” whispered the mystic. “And yet the Torchbearer is not here.”

“Give me the message, old man. I will pass it on, I promise you.”

“Dark Templars ride against the Prince of Shadows. He cannot hide, for the torch is bright against the night. But thought is faster than arrows, and truth is sharper than blades. The beasts can fall, but only the King beyond the Gate can bring them down.”

“Is that all?” asked Tenaka.

“You are the Torchbearer,” said the man. “Now I see you clearly. You are chosen by the Source.”

“I am the Prince of Shadows,” said Tenaka. “But I do not follow the Source or any god. I believe in none of them.”

“The Source believes in you,” said the old man. “I must go now. My rest is near.”

As Tenaka watched him hobble from the camp, his bare feet blue against the snow, Scaler joined him.

“What did he say to you?”

“I did not understand it.”

“Tell me the words,” said Scaler, and Tenaka repeated them. Scaler nodded. “Some of it is easy to decipher. The Dark Templars, for example. Have you heard of the Thirty?”

“Yes. Warrior-priests who spend their lives becoming pure in the heart before riding off to die in a distant war. The order died out years ago.”

“The Dark Templars are an obscene parody of the Thirty. They worship the chaos spirit, and their powers are dark yet deadly. Every form of vileness is pleasure to them, and they are formidable warriors.”

“And Ceska has sent them against me?”

“It would seem so. They are led by a man named Padaxes. There are sixty-six warriors in each temple, and ten temples. They have powers beyond those of normal men.”

“They will need them,” said Tenaka grimly. “What of the rest of his words?”

“Thought is faster than arrows? That you must outthink your enemies. The King beyond the Gate is a mystery. But you should know.”

“Why?”

“Because the message was for you. You must be part of it.”

“And what of your message?”

“What about it?”

“What did it mean?”

“It meant I must travel with you, though I do not desire it.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tenaka. “You have free will; you may go where you please.”

“I suppose so,” said Scaler, smiling. “But it is time I found my path. You remember the old man’s words to me? ‘Of bronze you sprang’? My ancestor was also Regnak the Wanderer. ‘Kin to shadow’? That is you, Cousin. ‘Dark spears hover’? The Templars. The red I carry? The blood of the Earl of Bronze. I have run long enough.”

“Arvan?”

“Yes.”

Tenaka placed his hands on the young man’s shoulders. “I have often wondered what became of you.”

“Ceska ordered me slain, and I ran away. I have spent a long time running away. Too damned long! I’m not much of a swordsman, you know.”

“No matter. It is good to see you again.”

“And you. I followed your career, and I kept a diary of your exploits. It is probably still at Delnoch. By the way, there was something else the old man said, right at the beginning. He said that there were three. Of gold, and ice, and shadow. Ananais is the Golden One. You are the Khan of Shadows. Who is ice?”

Tenaka turned away, staring through the trees.

“There was a man once. He was known as the Ice Killer, since he lived only for death. His name is Decado.”

For three days the companions skirted the forest, moving south and west toward the Skoda mountains. The weather was growing warmer, the snow retreating before the spring sunshine. They moved warily, and on the second day they found the body of the blind seeker, kneeling by a twisted oak. The ground was too hard to attempt a burial, and they left him there.