X

David Gemmell- Drenai 02 – The King Beyond the Gate

The men walked on. From behind shutters and heavily curtained windows eyes watched their progress and the marchers felt the stares, sensing the curiosity turning to fear as they were recognised.

They moved on in silence until they reached the gates, where they waited. After several seconds they heard the grating movement of the bar beyond, and the gate opened. Two sentries bowed their heads as the black-armoured men marched forward across the courtyard and on into the main torchlit corridors lined with guards. All eyes avoided them. At the far end the double doors of oak and bronze slid open, the leader raised his hand and his five companions halted, turning on their heels to stand before the doors with black-gloved hands resting on ebony sword-hilts.

The leader lifted his helm and entered the room beyond.

As he had expected, Ceska’s chief minister Eertik waited alone at his desk. He looked up as the warrior appeared, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes fixing on the knight.

‘Welcome, Padaxes,’ he said, his voice dry and faintly metallic.

‘Greetings, counsellor,’ answered Padaxes, smiling. He was a tall man, square-faced, with eyes the grey of a winter sky. His mouth was full-lipped and sensual, yet he was not handsome. There was about his features a strangeness – a taint hard to define.

‘The emperor has need of your services,’ said Eertik. As he stood and moved round the desk of oak, his dark velvet garments rustled. Padaxes registered the sounds, considering them not dissimilar to a snake moving through dry grass. He smiled again.

‘I am always at the emperor’s command.’

‘He knows that, Padaxes, just as he knows you value his generosity. There is a man who seeks harm to the emperor. We have had word that he is in the north and the emperor wishes him taken or slain.’

‘Tenaka Khan,’ said Padaxes.

Eertik’s eyes opened wide in surprise. ‘You know of him?’

‘Obviously,’

‘May I ask how?’

‘You may not.’

‘He is a threat to the empire,’ said Eertik, masking his annoyance.

‘He is a walking corpse from the moment I leave this room. Did you know that Ananais was with him?’

‘I did not,’ said Eertik, ‘although now you say it, I understand the mystery. Ananais was thought to be dead of his wounds. Does this intelligence pose a problem for your Order?’

‘No. One, two, ten or one hundred. Nothing can stand against my Templars. We will ride in the morning.’

‘Can I aid you in any way?’

‘Yes. Send a child to the Temple in two hours. A girl child under ten years. There are certain religious rites which must be performed. I must commune with the power that holds the universe.’

‘It shall be done.’

‘Our temple buildings are in need of repair. I was considering a move to the country and the commissioning of a new temple – something larger,’ said Padaxes.

‘The emperor’s thoughts exactly,’ said Eertik. ‘I will have some plans drawn up for your return.’

‘Convey my thanks to the Lord Ceska.’

‘I will indeed. May your journey be swift and your return joyful.’

‘As the Spirit wills it,’ answered Padaxes, replacing his black helm.

*

From his high tower window the Abbot gazed down into the upper garden where twenty-eight acolytes knelt before their trees. Despite the season the roses thrived, the perfume of their blooms filling the air.

The Abbot closed his eyes and soared, his spirit rising and flowing. Gently he descended to the garden, coming to rest beside the slender Katan.

Katan’s mind opened to receive him and the Abbot joined the acolyte, flowing within the fragile stems and capillary systems of the plant.

The rose welcomed them. It was a red rose.

The Abbot withdrew and, one by one, joined each of the acolytes in turn. Only Balan’s rose had failed to flower, but the buds were full and he was but a little way behind the rest.

The Abbot returned to his body in the high tower, opening his eyes and breathing deeply. He rubbed his eyes and moved to the southern window, looking down to the second level and the vegetable garden.

There, kneeling in the soil, was a priest in a dirty brown cassock. The Abbot walked from the room, descending the circular stair to push open the door to the lower level. He stepped out on to the well-scrubbed flagstones of the path and descended the stone steps to the garden.

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149

Categories: David Gemmell
curiosity: