Nogusta remained silent for a moment. Dagorian, Kebra and Bison came running back across the bridge to stand alongside him. ‘What is he doing here?’ said Dagorian, his face flushed and angry.
‘He is here to help us,’ said Nogusta.
‘That’s not likely,’ hissed Dagorian. ‘He sent assassins after me. He is in league with the enemy.’
‘Such indiscipline in your ranks, Nogusta,’ said Antikas. ‘Perhaps that is why you never gained a commission.’
‘Shall I break his neck?’ asked Bison.
‘How novel,’ muttered Antikas, ‘an ape that speaks.’ Bison surged forward. Nogusta threw out his arm. The effort of blocking the giant made him wince, as his injured shoulder flared with fresh pain.
‘Calm down,’ he said. ‘There is no treachery here. Antikas Karios is one of us. Understand that. The past is of no consequence. He is here to defend the bridge and buy us time. Let there be no more insults.’ He turned to Antikas. ‘The Krayakin will come tonight. They do not like the sun, and will wait for the clouds to clear and the moon to shine bright. There will be four of them. But riding with them will be a unit of Ventrian cavalry, sent by the demon who inhabits Malikada.’
‘You say I cannot defeat them alone? Will you then stand with me?’
‘I would like nothing more.’
‘No,’ said Dagorian, suddenly. ‘Your shoulder is injured. I have watched you ride. You are in great pain and your movements are slow and sluggish. I will stay.’
‘I too,’ said Kebra.
Nogusta shook his head. ‘We cannot risk everything
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on one encounter. There are only four of the Krayakin directly behind us. Four more are out there, moving to cut us off. We need to put distance between us. Antikas Karios has chosen to defend this bridge. Dagorian has offered to stand beside him. That is how it will be.’ He swung to Kebra. ‘You and Bison ride on with the others. Keep heading south. About a mile ahead the road branches. Take the route to the left. You will pass over the highest ridge. Move with care, for it will be cold and treacherous. I will join you soon.’
The two men moved away and Nogusta sat down on the bridge wall and rubbed his injured shoulder. Ulmenetha’s new-found magick had knitted the broken collar bone, and he could feel himself healing fast. But not fast enough to be of use to the two men who would guard the bridge.
‘Bring out the black swords,’ he told Antikas. The swordsman moved to his horse and lifted clear the bundle tied to the rear of the saddle. Warning Nogusta and Dagorian to beware of the blades he unwrapped them. They were identical save for the crystal jewels in the pommels. One was blue, the second white as fresh fallen snow, the third crimson. The blue blade Antikas took for himself. Nogusta waited for Dagorian. The young officer chose the sword with the white pommel. Nogusta accepted the last.
‘There is little I can say to advise you,’ he told Dagorian. ‘Stay close to Antikas Karios, guard his back as best you can.’
‘You have seen the coming fight, haven’t you?’
‘Glimpses of it only. Do not ask me about the outcome. You are a good man, Dagorian. Few would have the courage to face the warriors coming against you.’
‘This is all very touching, black man,’ said Antikas,
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‘but why don’t you ride on? I will take Dagorian under my wing, as it were.’
‘I don’t need your protection,’ snapped Dagorian.
‘You Drenai are so touchy. It comes from lacking any sense of true nobility, I expect.’ Antikas strode back to his horse, mounted and rode past them down the bridge.
‘Are you sure he can be trusted?’ asked Dagorian. Nogusta nodded.
‘Do not be fooled by his manner. He is a man of great honour, and he carries a burden of shame. He is also frightened. What you are seeing is merely a mask. He is of the old Ventrian nobility, and he is drawing on its values in order to face a terrible enemy.’
Dagorian sat alongside the black swordsman. ‘I never wanted to be a soldier,’ he said.