‘I am Gorben!’ roared the Emperor again. ‘And every man of you has been led into treachery by this . . . this miserable wretch here behind me.’ He waved his hand contemptuously in the direction of Shabag. ‘Look at him! Standing like a frightened rabbit. Is this the man you would set upon the throne? It will not be easy for him, you know. He will have to ascend the Royal steps. How will he accomplish this with his lips fastened to a Naashanite arse?’
Nervous laughter rose from the massed ranks. ‘Aye, it is an amusing thought,’ agreed Gorben, ‘or it would be were it not so tragic. Look at him! How can warriors follow such a creature? He was lifted to high position by my father; he was trusted; and he betrayed the man who had helped him, who loved him like a son. Not content with causing the death of my father, he has also done everything within his power to wreak havoc upon Ventria. Our cities burn. Our people are enslaved. And for why? So that this quivering rodent can pretend to be a king. So that he can creep on all fours to lie at the feet of a Naashanite goat-breeder.’
Gorben gazed out over the ranks. ‘Where are the Naashanites?’ he called. A roar went up from the rear. ‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘ever at the back!’ The Naashanties began to shout, but their calls were submerged beneath the laughter of Shabag’s Ventrians. Gorben raised his hands for silence. ‘No!’ he bellowed. ‘Let them have their say. It is rude to laugh, to mock others because they do not have your skills, your understanding of honour, your sense of history. I had a Naashanite slave once – ran off with one of my father’s goats. I’ll say this for him, though – he picked a pretty one!’ Laughter rose in a wall of sound and Gorben waited until it subsided. ‘Ah, my lads,’ he said at last. ‘What are we doing with this land we love? How did we allow the Naashanites to rape our sisters and daughters?’ An eerie silence settled over the camp. ‘I’ll tell you how. Men like Shabag opened the doors to them. “Come in,” he shouted, “and do as you will. I will be your dog. But please, please, let me have the crumbs that fall from your table. Let me lick the scrapings from your plates!” ‘ Gorben drew his sword and raised it high as his voice thundered out. ‘Well, I’ll have none of it! I am the Emperor, anointed by the gods. And I’ll fight to the death to save my people!’
‘And we’ll stand by you!’ came a voice from the right. Druss recognised the caller. It was Bodasen; and with him were the five thousand defenders of Capalis. They had marched silently past the siege-towers while the skirmish raged and had crept up to the enemy lines while the soldiers listened to the voice of Gorben.
As Shabag’s Ventrians began to shift nervously, Gorben spoke again. ‘Every man here – save the Naashanites – is forgiven for following Shabag. More than this, I will allow you to serve me, to purge your crimes by freeing Ventria. And more than this, I shall give you each the pay that is owed you – and ten gold pieces for every man who pledges to fight for his land, his people and his Emperor.’ At the rear the nervous Naashanites eased away from the packed ranks, forming a fighting square a little way distant.
‘See them cower!’ shouted Gorben. ‘Now is the time to earn your gold! Bring me the heads of the enemy!’
Bodasen forced his way through the throng. ‘Follow me!’ he shouted. ‘Death to the Naashanites!’ The cry was taken up, and almost thirty thousand men hurled themselves upon the few hundred Naashanite troops.
Gorben leapt down from the barrel and strode to where Shabag waited. ‘Well, cousin,’ he said, his voice soft yet tinged with acid, ‘how did you enjoy my speech?’
‘You always could talk well,’ replied Shabag, with a bitter laugh.
‘Aye, and I can sing and play the harp, and read the works of our finest scholars. These things are dear to me – as I am sure they are to you, cousin. Ah, what an awful fate it must be to be born blind, or to lose the use of speech, the sense of touch.’