David Gemmell. Winter Warriors

Strapping his sabre belt to his waist Dagorian opened the back door, walked through the small garden, and out onto the crowded streets.

Kalizkan’s house was an old one, originally built for Bodasen, the general who had led the Immortals in the time of Emperor Gorben. The facade was of white marble, inlaid with statues, and fronted by four tall columns. The building was three storeys high, with more than a hundred rooms, the grounds around it beautifully landscaped, with flowering trees and willows clustered on the banks of a small lake.

A high wall surrounded the estate, and a wrought-iron double gate ensured privacy for the master of the house.

Ulmenetha’s carriage drew up outside the gate, and a soldier climbed down to open it. The carriage moved on, coming to a halt before the marble steps leading to a high, arched doorway. A second soldier opened the door of the carriage and Ulmenetha stepped down.

‘Stay with me until I have spoken to the queen,’ Ulmenetha told the two soldiers. Both bowed. They were strong men, tall and broad shouldered, and the priestess felt more comfortable knowing they were to be close.

She strode up the marble steps and was about to knock when the door opened. A hooded man stood in the shadows beyond. She could not see his face clearly.

‘What is it you want?’ he asked her, his voice deep, and curiously accented.

Ulmenetha was unprepared for such a cold greeting, and she bridled. ‘I am the queen’s companion, and here

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at her invitation.’ The hooded man said nothing for a moment, then he stepped aside. Summoning the soldiers Ulmenetha walked inside. Curtains were drawn every­where, and the interior was gloomy.

‘Where is the queen?’ she demanded.

‘Upstairs . . . Resting,’ replied the man, after a moment’s thought.

‘Which rooms?’

‘Go to the top of the stairs and turn right. You will find them.’

Turning to the soldiers she said: ‘Wait here. I will be down presently.’

There was the smell of strong perfume in the air, cloying and strangely unpleasant, as if it masked some dank, underlying odour. Ulmenetha began to climb the wide, red-carpeted staircase. Her footfalls raised dust on the carpet and she shivered. Fear was strong in her now. This gloomy, shadow-haunted place was cold and unwelcoming. Glancing back she saw the soldiers standing by the open door, sunlight streaming through and shining on their armour. Fortified by the sight she walked on. Ulmenetha was breathing heavily by the time she reached the top of the stairs. There was a gallery here, the walls covered with old paint­ings, most of them landscapes. She noticed one of them was torn. She shivered again. This was no place for Axiana!

Reaching the first of the doors she found it was locked. A large key was still in the lock and she turned it. The door opened, the dry hinges creaking.

Dressed in a gown of blue and white satin Axiana was sitting on a couch in front of a barred window. She looked startled as Ulmenetha entered.

‘Oh!’ she cried, running to Ulmenetha and throwing

her arms around the priestess’s shoulders. ‘Take me away from here! Now. This is an awful place!’

‘Where are your servants?’ asked Ulmenetha.

‘He sent them away. The hooded man. He locked me in! He locked me in, Ulmenetha! Can you believe it?’ The priestess stroked the queen’s hair.

‘There are soldiers downstairs to bring you home. I shall send them to you to fetch your belongings.’

‘No. Never mind them. Leave them. Let us just go!’

Taking the queen by the hand Ulmenetha returned to the gallery.

She glanced down. One of the soldiers was leaning against the far wall, the other sitting in a chair. The hooded man was standing by the door, which was now closed.

‘The queen wishes her clothes to be packed, and the chests taken to the carriage,’ said Ulmenetha, supporting Axiana to the first of the steps. Her words hung in the dusty air. The soldiers did not respond.

‘The queen must remain here,’ said the hooded man. ‘It is the will of my lord.’

‘You men! Come here!’ called Ulmenetha. Still there was no movement. It was not that they had ignored her, she realized with horror. They had not heard her. Both remained still and silent. Axiana gripped her arm.

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