David Gemmell. Winter Warriors

‘Almost time, my friend,’ he said.

Bison sat up and yawned. ‘That was all I needed,’ he said. ‘Now I’m ready. How’s Kebra doing?’

‘He didn’t take part in the elimination event,’ said Nogusta. ‘As reigning champion he can come in for the final stages, the Horse, the Hanging Man, and the Distance.’

‘He’ll win,’ said Bison. ‘He’s the best.’

‘Place no money on him, my friend,’ said Nogusta, lightly touching the centre of his forehead.

‘Too late,’ said Bison.

Dagorian strolled to a food tent and purchased a wedge of meat pie, which he ate swiftly, then returned to the meadow. He saw Bison engaged in a furious contest with a massive opponent. Bison was bleeding from cuts above both eyes, and seemed to be suffering. His op­ponent charged in, ducking to grab Bison’s leg and up-end him. But the Drenai warrior skipped back, then dived onto the tribesman’s back. Both men rolled, but Bison had a neck lock in place. Robbed of air the tribesman was forced to submit. Bison rose, staggered,

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then sat down. Nogusta ran to his side, helping Bison from the circle. Men were cheering now, and clapping Bison on the back.

Dagorian moved forward to offer his congratulations when a giant of a man stepped in front of him. ‘You will be easy meat, old man,’ he told Bison. ‘Look at you! You’re exhausted.’ Dagorian saw anger in Bison’s eyes, but Nogusta half dragged him away. The young officer followed them.

‘Who was that?’ he asked Nogusta.

‘The Ventrian champion, Kyaps,’ said the black man.

‘I’ll. . . whip . . . him too,’ muttered Bison.

Dagorian moved to Bison’s left and between them he and Nogusta half carried Bison to a bench seat. The big man slumped down. ‘Semifinals, eh?’ he said, spitting blood to the grass. ‘Just two more and I’ll be champion.’

‘When is the next bout?’ asked Dagorian.

‘They are preparing for it now,’ said Nogusta, massaging Bison’s huge shoulders.

‘I think he should withdraw,’ said the officer.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Bison, forcing a grin. ‘I’m just acting like this to fool them all.’

‘It’s certainly fooling me,’ said Nogusta, drily.

‘Have faith, black man,’ grunted Bison, heaving himself to his feet. The Ventrian champion was waiting for them. He tied his long dark hair into a pony-tail and gave a wide smile as the older man entered the circle. At the sound of the drum Bison surged forward, to be met with a kick to the chest that halted him in his tracks. A chopping elbow opened a huge cut on his cheek, then Kyaps ducked down, threw an arm between Bison’s legs and heaved him high, hurling him out of the circle. The old man landed hard. He lay still and did not move. Nogusta and Dagorian moved to his side. He

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was out cold. Nogusta felt for a pulse. ‘Is he alive?’ asked Dagorian.

‘Yes.’

After some minutes Bison stirred. He tried to open his eyes, but one was swollen shut. ‘I guess I didn’t win,’ he mumbled.

‘I guess you didn’t,’ agreed Nogusta. Bison smiled.

‘Still, I earned some money,’ he said. ‘I only bet myself to make the semis. Ten to one they offered.’

‘It’ll cost you what you won to have your face mended,’ Nogusta told him.

‘Nonsense. You can stitch the cuts. They’ll be fine. I’m a fast healer.’ He sat up. ‘I should have entered the box­ing,’ he said. ‘I would have won that.’

The two men helped him to his feet. ‘Let’s go see Kebra win,’ said Bison.

‘I think you should have another nap,’ advised Nogusta.

‘Nonsense. I feel strong as an ox.’

As they were about to move off Kyaps strolled across to where they stood. He was a full head taller than Bison. ‘Hey, old man,’ he said. ‘The next time you see me you kiss my boots. Understand?’

Bison chuckled with genuine humour. ‘You have a big mouth, child,’ he told him.

Kyaps leaned forward. ‘Big enough to swallow you, you Drenai scum!’

‘Well,’ said Bison, ‘swallow this.’ His fist smashed into Kyaps’ chin, and Dagorian winced as he heard the snapping of bone. The Ventrian champion hit the grass face first and did not move. ‘See,’ said Bison. ‘I should have entered the boxing. I’d have won that.’