‘You give up too easily,’ snarled Druss.
‘I’m a realist. And don’t give me any Skeln Pass lectures. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You might as well,’ said Druss, slumping into a leather chair. ‘You have already lost hope.’
Rek turned from the window, eyes blazing. ‘What is it with you warriors? It is understandable that you talk in cliches, but unforgivable if you think in them. Lost hope, indeed! I never had any hope. This enterprise was doomed from the start, but we do what we can and what we must. So a young farmer with wife and children decides to go home. Good! He shows a sense which men like you and I will never understand. They will sing songs about us, but he will ensure that there are people to sing them. He plants. We destroy.
‘Anyway, he has played his part and fought like a man. It is criminal that he should feel the need to flee in shame.’
‘Why not give them all the chance to go home?’ asked Druss. ‘Then you and I could stand on the walls and invite the Nadir to come at us one at a time like sportsmen.’
Suddenly Rek smiled, tension and anger flowing from him. ‘I won’t argue with you, Druss,’ he said softly. ‘You are a man I admire above all others. But in this I think you are wrong. Help yourself to wine – I shall be back soon.’
Less than an hour later the Earl’s message was being read to all sections.
Bregan brought the news to Gilad as he ate in the shade offered by the field hospital under the towering cliff face of West Kania.
‘We can go home,’ said Bregan, his face flushed. ‘We can be there by Harvest Supper!’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Gilad. ‘Have we surrendered?’
‘No. The Earl says that any who wish to leave can now do so. He says that we can leave with pride, that we have fought like men – and as men, we must be given the right to go home.’
‘Are we going to surrender?’ asked Gilad, puzzled.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Bregan.
‘Then I shall not go.’
‘But the Earl says it’s all right!’
‘I don’t care what he says.’
‘I don’t understand this, Gil. Lots of the others are going. And it is true that we’ve played our part. Haven’t we? I mean, we’ve done our best.’
‘I suppose so.’ Gilad rubbed his tired eyes and turned to watch the smoke from the fire gully drift lazily skyward. ‘They did their best too,’ he whispered.
‘Who did?’
‘Those who died. Those who are still going to die.’
‘But the Earl says it’s all right. He says that we can leave with our heads held high. Proud.’
‘Is that what he says?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, my head wouldn’t be high.’
‘I don’t understand you, I really don’t. You have said all along that we can’t hold this fortress. Now we have a chance to leave. Why can’t you just accept it and come with us?’
‘Because I’m a fool. Give my love to everyone back there.’
‘You know I won’t go unless you come too.’
‘Don’t you start being a fool, Breg! You’ve got everything to live for. Just picture little Legan toddling towards you and all the stories you will be able to tell. Go on. Go!’
‘No. I don’t know why you’re staying, but I shall stay too.’
‘That you must not do,’ said Gilad gently. ‘I want you to go back, I really do. After all, if you don’t there will be no one to tell them what a hero I am. Seriously, Breg, I would feel so much better if I knew that you were away from all this. The Earl’s right. Men like you have played their part. Magnificently.
‘And as for me . . . well, I just want to stay here. I’ve learned so much about myself, and about other men. I’m not needed anywhere but here. I’m not necessary. I will never be a fanner, and I have neither the money to be a businessman nor the breeding to be a prince. I’m a misfit. This is where I belong . . . with all the other misfits. Please, Bregan. Please go!’