‘Where will I find Gan Orrin?’
‘Main Barracks. Now go!’ Druss grinned and left the room.
Dun Mendar took a deep breath. ‘You don’t like him, sir?’
‘Like him? Of course I like him!’ snapped the surgeon. ‘He kills men clean, boy. Saves me work. Now you get out, too.’
*
As Druss walked across the parade ground before the main barracks building, he became aware of the stares of the soldiers and the muted whispers as he passed. He smiled inwardly. It had begun! From now on he would be unable to relax for a moment.
Never could he show these men a glimpse of Druss the Man. He was The Legend. The invincible Captain of the Axe. Indestructible Druss.
He ignored the salutes until he reached the main entrance, where two guards snapped to attention.
‘Where will I find Gan Orrin?’ he asked the first.
‘Third doorway of the fifth corridor on the right,’ answered the soldier, back straight, eyes staring a head.
Druss marched inside, located the room and knocked on the door.
‘Come!’ said a voice from within and Druss entered. The desk was immaculately tidy, the office spartanly furnished but smart. The man behind the desk was tubby, with soft doelike dark eyes. He looked out of place in the gold epaulettes of a Drenai Gan.
‘You are Gan Orrin?’ asked Druss.
‘I am. You must be Druss. Come in, my dear fellow, and have a seat. You have seen the Earl? Yes, of course you have. Of course you have. I expect he has told you about our problems here. Not easy. Not easy at all. Have you eaten?’ The man was sweating and ill at ease and Druss felt sorry for him. He had served under countless commanders in his lifetime. Many were fine, but as many were incompetent, foolish, vain or cowardly. He did not know as yet into which category Orrin fell, but he sympathised with his problems.
On a shelf by the window stood a wooden platter bearing black bread and cheese. ‘I will have some of that, if I may?’ said Druss.
‘But of course.’ Orrin passed it to him. ‘How is the Earl? A bad business. Such a fine man. A friend of his, weren’t you? At Skeln together. Wonderful story. Inspiring.’
Druss ate slowly, enjoying the gritty bread. The cheese was good too, mellow and full-flavoured. He rethought his original plan toackle Orrin by pointing out the shambles into which the Dros had fallen, the apathy and the ram-shackle organisation. A man must know his limitations, he thought. If he exceeds them, nature has a way of playing cruel tricks. Orrin should never have accepted Gan rank, but in peacetime he would be easily absorbed. Now he stood out like a wooden horse in a charge.
‘You must be exhausted,’ Druss said at last.
‘What?’
‘Exhausted. The workload here is enough to break a lesser man. Organisation of supplies, training, patrols, strategy, planning. You must be completely worn out.’
‘Yes, it is tiring,’ said Orrin, wiping the sweat from his brow, his relief evident. ‘Not many people realise the problems of command. It’s a nightmare. Can I offer you a drink?’
‘No, thank you. Would it help if I took some of the weight from your shoulders?’
‘In what way? You are not asking me to stand down, are you?’
‘Great Missael no,’ said Druss, with feeling. ‘I would be lost. No, I meant nothing of that kind.
‘But time is short and no one can expect you to bear this burden alone. I would suggest you turn over to me the training and all the responsibility for preparing the defence. We need to block those tunnels behind the gates, and set work parties to razing the buildings from Wall Four to Wall Six.’
‘Block the tunnels? Raze the buildings? I don’t understand you, Druss,’ said Orrin. They are all privately owned. There would be an uproar.’
‘Exactly!’ said the old warrior, gently. ‘And that is why you must appoint an outsider to take the responsibility. Those tunnels behind the gates were built so that a small rearguard could hold an enemy force long enough to allow the defenders to move back to the next wall. I propose to destroy the buildings between Walls Four and Six and use the rubble to block the tunnels. Ulric will expend a lot of men in order to breach the gates. And it will avail him nothing.’