Axiana rose. ‘I will think on what you have said, general. But first I would like to bathe and lay aside these garments of travel.’ He bowed and one of the soldiers stepped forward to lead the queen and Ulmenetha towards the antechamber.
The White Wolf strode to where Nogusta lay. Antikas Karios and Kebra rose. Banelion gave Antikas a cold look, then knelt beside the wounded warrior. Nogusta
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opened his eyes as Banelion took his hand. ‘Am I always to rescue you, my boy?’ he said, fondly.
‘It would seem so. It is good to see you, general.’ Nogusta’s smile faded. ‘Bison didn’t make it.’
‘I know. The priestess showed me his death in a dream. It was valiant, and no less than I would have expected from him. He was an obdurate man, and I liked him not at all. But he had heart. I admired that.’
Nogusta relaxed and closed his eyes. ‘It is not over, general. There are three thousand Ventrians riding with the Demon Lord. They think he is Malikada.’
‘I wish he was,’ said Banelion, sourly. ‘I’d have dearly-loved to slit his treacherous throat.’
‘A feeling I am sure he would have reciprocated,’ said Antikas Karios. The White Wolf ignored him.
‘I am not troubled by the numbers of the enemy,’ he told Nogusta. ‘I am more concerned that they are being duped. Ulmenetha tells me that if the Demon Lord is successful the soldiers riding with him will – like Malikada – be possessed and destroyed. It is bad enough having to kill men in a good cause. But those Ventrians are going to die for the wrong reasons.’
‘Good of you to concern yourself,’ said Antikas, his words edged with sarcasm.
Once again Banelion ignored him. ‘Rest now,’ he told Nogusta. ‘Regain your strength. I will do all that needs to be done.’ Then he rose and his pale eyes rested, for a moment, on Antikas. ‘I watched you fight alongside Dagorian on the bridge,’ he said. ‘I loved that boy, and it was good of you to say that prayer for him. I am not a religious man, but I would like to think that a light did appear for him, and lead him to your palace.’ Without waiting for a response he strode away, calling his soldiers after him.
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‘He hates me, yet he praises me,’ whispered Antikas. ‘Truly he is a strange man.’
‘Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t,’ said Kebra. ‘One rarely knows what the White Wolf is thinking. That’s what makes him the best. There’s never been a general like him.’
‘You think he genuinely cares about what happens to the Ventrian troops?’
‘Oh yes,’ Kebra told him. ‘He does not revel in slaughter. There is no battle madness in him.’
Antikas looked down. Nogusta was sleeping again. He knelt beside the black man and looked closely at his face. A thin sheen of sweat lay upon the skin, and snow white bristles were showing on his shaven head. ‘It is easy to forget how old he is,’ said Antikas, with a sigh. He looked up and smiled at Kebra. ‘I watched him fight Cerez, and I marvelled at his skill. I thought him to be around forty years of age. Had I known he was this old I would have bent my knee to him.’
Glancing down once more he saw the talisman on Nogusta’s chest begin to glow, the silver moon in the golden hand, shining like a tiny lantern.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Antikas.
‘Evil is near,’ said Kebra, lifting his hand and making the sign of the Protective Horn.
The White Wolf stood outside the ruins and once more cast his eyes over the landscape. There was a line of hills to the left and right, thinly covered by trees and brush, but the ground was flat and uncluttered between the hills. The Ventrian army was mainly cavalry, and he pictured all possible lines of attack.
He glanced back at the ruins. They could, of course, decline a pitched battle here, and move around the ruins,
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coming at him from all sides, but he thought this unlikely. Cavalry could not operate effectively in the ruins themselves, and by spreading themselves thin they would hand the advantage to the Drenai foot soldiers. No, the best chance of victory for the enemy lay in a direct frontal assault, seeking to sunder the line and scatter the defenders.