‘Then let us instead say that all those centuries ago, Egel looked into the future and saw this invasion, so he left his armour here, guarded by magic which only you – as the Earl – could break.
‘Is your spirit image still observing us?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does it know of my loss?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you knew she would die?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why did you not tell me?’
‘It would have been a waste of joy.’
‘What does that mean?’ said Rek, anger building inside him and pushing away the grief.
‘It means that were you a farmer anticipating long life, I might have warned you – to prepare you. But you are not; you are fighting a savage horde and your life is at risk every day. As was Virae’s. You knew that she might die. Had I told you this was certain not only would it have gained you nothing, but also robbed you of the joy you had.’
‘I could have saved her.’
‘No, you could not.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Why would I lie? Why would I wish her dead?’
Rek did not answer. The word ‘dead’ entered his heart and crushed his soul. Tears welled in him again and he fought them back, concentrating on the armour.
‘I will wear that tomorrow,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I will wear it and die.’
‘Perhaps,’ answered the albino.
26
The dawn was clear, the air fresh and sweet as two thousand Drenai warriors prepared for the assault on Kania. Below them the Nadir shaman were moving through the ranks of tribesmen, sprinkling the blood of chickens and sheep on the bared blades which the warriors held before them.
Then the Nadir massed and a great swelling chant came from thousands of throats as the horde moved forward, bearing ladders, knotted ropes and grappling-irons. Rek watched from the centre of the line. He lifted the bronze helm and placed it over his head, buckling the chin-strap. To his left was Serbitar, to his right Menahem. Others of The Thirty were spread along the wall.
And the carnage began.
Three assaults were turned back before the Nadir gained a foothold on the battlements. And this was short-lived. Some two-score tribesmen breached the defence, only to find themselves faced with a madman in bronze and two silver ghosts who strode among them dealing death. There was no defence against these men, and the bronze devil’s sword could cut through any shield or armour; men died under that terrible blade screaming as if their souls were ablaze. That night the Nadir captains carried their reports to the tent of Ulric and the talk was all of the new force upon the battlements. Even the legendary Druss seemed more human – laughing as he did in the face of Nadir swords – than this golden machine of destruction.
‘We felt like dogs being beaten from his path with a stick,’ muttered one man. ‘Or weaponless children being thrust aside by an elder.’
Ulric was troubled and, though he lifted their spirits at last by pointing out again and again that it was merely a man in bronze armour, after the captains had left he summoned the ancient shaman, Nosta Khan, to his tent. Squatting before a blazing brazier of coals the old man listened to his warlord, nodding the while. At last he bowed and closed his eyes.
*
Rek was asleep, exhausted by battle and sorrow. The nightmare came slowly, enveloping him like black smoke. His dream eyes opened and before him was a cave mouth, black and terrible. Fear emanated from it like a tangible force. Behind him was a pit, stretching down into the fiery bowels of the earth, from which came strange sounds, whimpers and screams. In his hand was no sword, upon his body no armour. A slithering sound came from the pit and Rek turned to see oozing up from it a gigantic worm, slime-covered and putrescent. The stench made him reel back. The mouth of the worm was huge and could swallow a man with ease; around it were triple rows of pointed fangs and lodged between one set was the arm of a man, bloody and broken. Rek backed towards the cave mouth, but a hissing made him spin round. From the blackness of the cave came a spider, its giant maw dripping poison. Within its mouth was a face, green and shimmering and from the mouth of the face flowed words of power. As each word sounded Rek grew weaker, until he could hardly stand.