David Gemmell. Winter Warriors

‘Is the general accepting visitors?’ he asked. One of the sentries lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. He returned moments later.

‘He will see you, Captain,’ he said, saluting.

The sentry lifted the flap once more and Dagorian ducked into the tent. The White Wolf was sitting at a folding table, examining maps. He was looking frail and elderly. Dagorian hid his concern and gave a salute. Banelion smiled. ‘What brings you here today, my boy? I thought you had duties in the Park.’

Dagorian quietly told him of the conversation with

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Nogusta. The White Wolf listened in silence, his ex­pression unreadable. When the young man had finished he gestured him to a chair. Banelion sat quietly for a moment, then leaned forward. ‘Do not take this amiss, Dagorian, but I want you to forget about the warning. And let us make our goodbyes now, for you must not come close to me again.’

‘You think it is true, sir?’

‘True or false it must not affect you. You are remain­ing behind, and will serve Malikada as you served me -with loyalty and honour.’

‘I could not do that if he was responsible for your death, my general.’

‘I am no longer your general. Malikada is!’ snapped Banelion. His face softened. ‘But I am your friend. What is between Malikada and myself is for me to concern myself with. It has no bearing on your dealings with the king’s general. We are not talking friendship here, Dagorian, we are talking politics. More than this we are talking survival. I can tolerate an enemy like Malikada. You cannot.’

Dagorian shook his head. ‘You talk of honour, sir? How could I honour the man who murdered my friend?’

‘Try to understand, boy. Two years ago Malikada was leading an army that killed Drenai soldiers. He faced the king in two battles and did his best to kill him. When the last city fell we all expected Malikada to be executed. Skanda chose to make him his friend. And he has proved a remarkable ally. That is Skanda’s great tal­ent. Half the army he leads used to be his enemies. That is why he took the empire, and why he will hold it. Three of Skanda’s closest friends were killed by Malikada and his men – including your father. Yet Skanda honours him. If Malikada manages to have me killed it will not matter to the king, for I am yesterday,

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Malikada is today. Let it not matter to you either.’

The White Wolf fell silent. Dagorian reached out and took the old man’s hand. ‘I am not the king. I am not even a soldier by choice. And I cannot think as you would wish me to. All I want is to see you live.’

‘Many men have tried to kill me, Dagorian. I am still here.’ Banelion rose. ‘Now go back to the celebrations.’

Dagorian moved to the tent entrance and turned. ‘Thank you, sir, for all you have done for me.’

‘And you for me,’ said Banelion. ‘Farewell.’

Outside the tent Dagorian summoned the sentries to him. Both were older men, their beards flecked with silver. ‘The general’s life is in danger,’ he told them, keeping his voice low. ‘Watch carefully for strangers. And if he leaves the camp for any reason make sure someone is close to him.’

‘We know, sir. They’ll not get to him while we live,’ said the first.

Dagorian stepped into the saddle and rode back through the city. Leaving his horse at the stables he joined the last of the crowd surging through the open gates. He had been gone for more than an hour, and many of the events had already begun. Threading his way through the throng he made his way to the king’s pavilion and rejoined the guards.

The wrestling was under way. More than forty pairs of fighting men were grappling, and the crowd was cheering loudly. Dagorian saw the giant Bison hurl an opponent out of the circle. Far to the left the archery tournament had also begun. Two hundred bowmen were shooting at straw-filled targets.

Dagorian glanced at the nobles seated around the king. Malikada was sitting beside Skanda. The king