David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

Then another group of men had arrived in the camp. An older man, with a kind face, dressed in a pale green tunic jacket, bearing a Fawn in Brambles motif upon the breast.

‘You are to hand over the prisoners to me,’ he said. ‘Upon the orders of Gaise Macon.’

The boy felt a surge of hope. He would have given anything to be away from these harsh, deadly men.

‘We like their company,’ said Scarface.

‘We have our orders, General Ring.’

‘And your orders are to take these boys away and kill them. Not today, Master Gosten. You can satisfy your bloodlust tomorrow when the battle starts. There’ll be no killing here.’

‘I don’t have bloodlust,’ said Gosten. ‘I just have orders, sir.’

‘Some orders should never be obeyed. Not ever. You think when you come before the Source of All Things He will accept such an excuse for murder?’

‘Probably not, sir. I don’t suppose He’ll have much use for any of us warriors. I’ll report back to General Macon. I wish that would be the end of it, but I doubt it.’

The soldiers in green marched away. Scarface said nothing to the boy or his comrades, but another man brought them food. He was tall and slim, his hair prematurely white. ‘Stay calm, lads. I am Captain Mulgrave and you are with the Rigante. No harm will come to you.’

‘Is that true, sir?’ asked the boy. ‘We was told you murdered all prisoners. Cut off their heads and stuck them on poles. We seen ’em.’

The officer nodded gravely. ‘I know, but that man there is Kaelin Ring. His men call him Ravenheart. He will not let anyone take you for execution. Neither would any one of his men. Deadly fighters they may be, but you can trust me on this: they are not murderers. Eat and rest, and do as you are told.’

‘We will, sir.’

‘What is your name, boy?’

‘Slipper, sir. I mean Brene. Brene Wainwright.’

‘You seem unsure,’ said the man, with a smile.

‘Slipper’s what I’ve always been called. Come from my first day at school. My mother made me some shoes, but they weren’t very good. Soles was all shiny and I slipped and slid all over the place.’

‘Make sure your comrades understand this also, Slipper. Do not run, whatever happens. Just sit here quietly.’ With that he rose and moved away to talk to the Ravenheart.

It was two hours later, the night sky ablaze with stars, when horsemen rode towards the camp. The boy looked round and saw the kind-faced man was back, and riding ahead of him was a golden-haired horseman. Other riders followed them.

The Ravenheart walked out to meet them, and a number of Rigante went with him. All were carrying their muskets.

‘Hand over your prisoners,’ said the golden-haired man.

‘Men who come to do murder are not welcome in my camp, Stormrider.’

The horseman angled his mount past the Ravenheart. He looked at Slipper and reached for one of the pistols in the pommel scabbard of his saddle. Slipper knew then that he was going to die. The man’s face was hard, his expression one of undiluted hatred.

Slipper could not take his eyes from him. He felt his stomach lurch. The man’s pistol slid clear of the scabbard. Slipper wanted to get up and run, but his body was frozen in terror.

‘Fire that and I’ll kill you,’ said the Ravenheart, pulling a long-barrelled silver pistol from his belt, cocking it and pointing it at the rider.

The golden-haired man swung his horse and glared down at the scarred man. ‘You would risk everything we have fought for -everything your men have died for – to save these scum?’

‘Why not? You are. And I fear we have very different definitions of scum.’

The horsemen who had arrived with the golden-haired rider had also now drawn pistols. The Rigante raised their muskets. Slipper sat open mouthed, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. Why were these men ready to fight over three of the enemy?

Captain Mulgrave moved forward to stand alongside the Ravenheart. ‘So, we have come full circle it seems. As I recall it was not so long ago that I stood alongside another noble young man. Winter Kay rode into his camp and demanded prisoners to be executed. He refused. That made me proud. By heaven, Gaise, I never thought to see the day when you would become an animal like Winter bourne. There is no difference between you now. It sickens me to my soul to see it.’

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