All his life he had feared this moment, and now that it was upon him it was as meaningless as dust upon the ocean. Wearily he focused his gaze on the charging warriors.
‘I say, old horse,’ muttered Bowman, ‘do you think it’s too late to surrender?’
Rek grinned. ‘Just a little,’ he said. His hands curled around the sword hilt, he twisted his wrist and the blade hissed into the air.
The front ranks of the Nadir were less than twenty paces from them when the sound of distant rams’ horns echoed up from the valley.
The charge slowed . . .
And stopped. Less than ten paces apart, both sides stood listening to the insistent wailing.
Ogasi cursed and spat, sheathing his sword. He stared sullenly into the astonished eyes of the Earl of Bronze. Rek removed his helm and plunged his sword into the ground before him as Ogasi stepped forward.
‘It is over!’ he said. He lifted his arm, waving the Nadir back to the walls. Then he turned. ‘Know this, you round-eyed bastard, it was I, Ogasi, who slew your wife.’
It took a few seconds for the words to register, then Rek took a deep breath and removed his gauntlets.
‘Do you think it matters, amid all this,’ said Rek, ‘to know who fired one arrow? You want me to remember you? I shall. You want me to hate you? I cannot. Maybe tomorrow. Or next year. Maybe never.’
For a moment Ogasi stood silent, then he shrugged.
‘The arrow was meant for you,’ he said, weariness settling on him like a dark cloak. Turning on his heel, he followed the departing warriors. Silently they climbed down the ladders and ropes – none took the path through the gate tunnel.
Rek unbuckled his breastplate and walked slowly to the tunnel mouth. Coming towards him was Druss and The Thirty. Rek lifted a hand in greeting, but a wind blew and the warriors vanished into mist and were gone.
‘Goodbye, Druss,’ he said softly.
Later that evening Rek bade farewell to the Sathuli and slept for several hours, hoping for another meeting with Virae. He awoke refreshed – but disappointed.
Arshin brought him food and he ate with Bowman and Orrin. They said little. Calvar Syn and his orderlies had found Hogun’s body, and the surgeon was labouring to save the hundreds of wounded men now being carried to the Geddon hospital.
Rek made his way to his room around midnight and removed his armour; then he remembered Serbitar’s gift. He was too tired to care, but sleep would not come so he rose and dressed, took a torch from a wall bracket and made his way slowly down into the bowels of the Keep. The door to Egel’s room was closed once more, but it opened to him as before.
The lights blazed within as Rek placed his torch against the wall and stepped inside. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed on the crystal block. Within it lay Virae! Upon her body was no mark, no arrow wound; she lay naked and peaceful, seemingly asleep, floating within the transparent crystal. He walked to the block, reached inside and touched her. She did not stir and her body was cold. Stooping, he lifted her clear and placed her on a nearby table. Then he removed his cloak, wrapped it around her and lifted her again. Gathering up the torch he made his slow way back to his room above the Keep hall.
He summoned Arshin and the old retainer blanched as he saw the still form of the Earl’s wife. He looked at Rek, then gazed at the floor.
‘I am sorry, my lord. I do not know why the white-haired one placed her body in the magic crystal.’
‘What happened?’ asked Rek.
The prince Serbitar and his friend the Abbot came to see me on the day she died. The Abbot had had a dream, he said. He would not explain it to me, but he said it was vital that my lady’s body be placed within the crystal. He said something about the Source . . . I didn’t understand it. I still don’t, my lord. Is she alive or dead? And how did you find her? We laid her upon this crystal block and she gently sank into it. Yet when I touched it, it was solid. I understand nothing any more.’ Tears welled in the old man’s eyes and Rek moved to him, placing a hand on his bony shoulder.