David Gemmell. The Hawk Enternal

Morgase slipped silently into the room wearing only a dark silken robe. She knelt by him as she had knelt by his father. He looked down into her cold blue eyes; her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and red. By candlelight her face looked younger, softer.

‘He is sleeping,’ she whispered.

‘Good. I wish I was.’

‘Soon, Drada. Soon. Listen to me. I promised you the Gateway to empires. Do you still desire it?’

‘Of course.’ Leaning forward, he rubbed his tired eyes.

The druids guard the Gateway. They have a hiding-place near the great falls called Attafoss. You must lead an army to the north.’

*What is this Gateway?’

‘I don’t know what it is, only what it does. It is an entrance to my own world – a land full of riches and ripe for conquest.’

“What do you mean? There is no world to the north, only mountains and sea.’

‘You are wrong. I was raised in a far land, not of this world. My father was an Earl. He was killed in a rebellion when I was seven years old. The land is ruled now by a warrior Queen but her armies have fought many battles and they are tired, weary to the bone.’

‘I have heard of no Queen …’ Drada began.

‘Listen to me, you fool,” she hissed, her eyes angry. ‘My brothers and I fought her for six long years, but our army was crushed. I fled north with two trusted servants; they brought me to a druid who lived in the eastern mountains and he told me of a Gate I could pass that would lead to safety. The entrance was marked by a carving at the mouth of the cave, where someone long ago had chipped out the shape of a goblet. He took me there and we entered the cave, which was shallow and dripping with water. He spoke some words by the far wall, and it shimmered and disappeared. Then he beckoned me to follow him and stepped through where the wall had been. I followed and found myself in the mountains near a great waterfall.

‘It was like a dream. The old man stepped one pace back – and disappeared. I tried to follow him but there was no way back. I walked south for many days until I reached the city of Ateris in the distance. There I met your father.’

Drada was awake now. ‘You say the Farlain druids control this Gateway?’

‘Yes.’

‘And they can transport men wherever they wish to go?’

‘Yes. Now do you see?’

‘I do indeed.’

‘The druid who helped me told me that if ever I wished to return I should seek a man named Taliesen.’

‘I’ve met him,’ said Drada.

‘He guards the Gate, and controls its power.”

Drada leaned back in his chair, the tension easing from him, his weariness slipping away. ‘Such a Gateway allowed the Aenir to invade these lands,’ he said. ‘But once we were through it closed behind us, becoming solid rock. For years we sought sorcerers and witches to open them but none succeeded. What are these Gates? Who made them?’

‘I don’t know. The old druid told me they had existed for centuries. In my land we have legends of trolls and giants, beasts and dragons. The druid said these were all creatures which had passed through random Gates.’

Drada sat back, saying nothing. This was a prize greater than any before. Dreams of empire grew in his mind. Suppose the Gates could send a man wherever he wished? Who could resist an army that appeared within a walled city? But was it possible? He looked down at Morgase, taking her chin in his hand. ‘Have you told my father?’

Her hand came down to rest on his thigh. ‘No, you are the man to lead the Aenir.’ At her touch he stiffened, his eyes flickering to the darkened doorway.

‘Have no fear, Drada. I slipped him a sleeping potion. He will not wake for hours.’

He lifted her to his lap and kissed her, his hand slipping beneath her robe.

‘Are you worth dying for?’ he asked, his voice husky, his face flushed. ‘Find out,” she told him.

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