David Gemmell. Winter Warriors

18

years we have fought together I have never raped a woman. Never.’

‘But you did three nights ago,’ said Nogusta, moving forward, and drawing his sword.

Orendo lifted a hand. ‘If you will permit me I will do the deed myself?’

Nogusta nodded and squatted down on the other side of the fire. Orendo slowly drew his dagger. For a moment he considered hurling it at the black man. Then the image of the girl came to his mind, and he heard her voice begging for life. Swiftly he drew the sharp blade across his left wrist. Blood flowed instantly. ‘There is a bottle of brandy in my saddlebag. Would you get it?’

Nogusta did so and Orendo drank deeply. ‘I-am truly sorry about the girl,’ said the dying man. ‘Will she recover?’

‘I don’t know.’

Orendo drank again, then tossed the bottle to Nogusta. The black man took a deep swallow. ‘It all went wrong,’ said Orendo. ‘Never put your trust in kings. That’s what they say. It was all so glorious in those early days. We knew where we were. The Ventrians invaded us and we fought back. We knew what we were fighting for.’ Blood was pooling on the snow now. ‘Then the boy-king convinced us we should invade Ventria, to force the emperor to end the war. No territorial ambitions, he said. Justice and peace were all he wanted. We believed him, didn’t we? Now look at him! Emperor Skanda, would-be conqueror of the world. Now he’s going to invade Cadia. But he has no territorial ambitions. Oh no … the bastard!’ Orendo lay back and Nogusta moved around the fire to sit along­side him. ‘You remember that boy I saved?’ asked Orendo.

‘Yes. It was a fine deed.’

‘You think it will count for me? You know … if there is a paradise?’

‘I hope so.’

Orendo sighed. ‘I can’t feel the cold now. That’s a good thing. I’ve always hated the cold. Tell Bison not to judge me too hard, eh?’

‘I am sure that he won’t.’

Orendo’s voice was slurring, then his eyes flared open. ‘There are demons,’ he said, suddenly. T can see them. There are demons!’

He died then, and Nogusta rose, collected the pouch of jewels and walked to his horse.

He glanced up at the sky, which was blue, clear and bright. Not a trace of cloud.

Stepping into the saddle he gathered the other three mounts and headed back for the city.

There were demons in the air over the city of Usa, shroud-pale and skinny, their talons long, their teeth sharp. Ordinary eyes could not see them, and they seemed to pose no threat to ordinary folk.

Why then are they here, thought Ulmenetha? Why do they hover close to the palace? The large priestess pushed her thick fingers through her short cropped blond hair. Rising from her bed she poured water into a bowl and washed her face. Refreshed she silently opened the connecting door and stepped through into the queen’s bedroom. Axiana was asleep, lying on her back, one white slender arm curled around a satin pillow. Ulmenetha smiled. Only a few years before that arm had, in the same manner, cuddled a stuffed toy – a woollen lioness with only one glass eye.

Now Axiana was a child no longer.

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Ulmenetha sighed. Despite her bulk the priestess moved silently across the royal bedroom, casting an affectionate look at the pregnant Axiana. The queen’s face shone in the moonlight, and, in sleep, Ulmenetha could just discern the child she had grown to love. ‘May your dreams be rich and joyful,’ she whispered.

Axiana did not stir. The fat priestess reached the window balcony and stepped out into the moonlight. Her white-streaked blond hair shone like silver beneath the stars, and her voluminous nightdress of white cotton shimmered, as if turned to silk. There was a marble-topped table set on the balcony, and four chairs. Easing herself down she untied her rune pouch and placed it on the table. Ulmenetha gazed up at the night sky. All she could see with the eyes of her body were the stars, shining bright. To her left a crescent moon seemed to be balancing precariously on the uppermost tower of the Veshin temple. Closing the eyes of her body, she opened the eyes of her spirit. The stars remained, brighter and clearer now, robbed of the twinkling illusion caused by human astigmatism and the earth’s atmosphere. Tall mountains could clearly be seen on the far-away face of the crescent moon. But it was not the night sky Ulmenetha wished to see.

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