‘That one old man is vital to us,’ said Orrin, softly.
‘Do everything you can, Calvar. It would be a hammer blow to morale if anything happened to him.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ snapped the surgeon.
*
The banquet to celebrate the Open Swords was a raucous affair. All who had reached the Last Hundred were invited; officers and enlisted men were seated side by side, swapping jests, tales and tall, tall, stories.
Gilad was seated between Bar Britan, who had beaten him soundly, and Dun Pinar who had in turn vanquished Britan. The black-bearded Bar was cursing Pinar good-humouredly, and complaining that the latter’s wooden sword lacked the balance of his own cavalry sabre.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t ask to be allowed to fight on horseback,’ said Pinar.
‘But I did,’ protested Britan, ‘and they offered me the target pony.’ The three men burst into laughter which others joined as the joke spread around the table. The target pony was a saddle, tied to a moving rail and pulled by ropes. It was used for archery practice and jousting.
As the wine flowed Gilad relaxed. He had seriously considered missing the banquet, fearing that his background would leave him ill at ease with the officer class. He had only agreed to come when the men of his group had lobbied him, pointing out that he was the only member of Karnak who had reached the Last Hundred. Now he was glad he had been persuaded. Bar Britan was a dry, witty companion, while Pinar, despite his breeding – or perhaps because of it – made Gilad feel among friends.
At the far end of the table sat Druss, flanked by Hogun and Orrin, while beside them sat the archer leader from Skultik. Gilad knew nothing about the man, save that he had brought 600 bowmen to the Dros.
Hogun, in full Legion dress armour of silver breastplate edged with ebony, and black and silver mail-shirt, stared at the silver sword lying on the table before Druss.
The final had been watched by more than five thousand soldiers as Hogun and Orrin took their places. The first strike had been Hogun’s, a neat parry and riposte after a four-minute duel. The second had been Orrin’s, following a feint to the head. Hogun had blocked swiftly, but a subtle twist of the wrist sent his opponent’s wooden blade down to touch Hogun’s side. After some twenty minutes Hogun led by two strikes to one – one strike from victory.
During the first break Druss strolled to where Hogun and his seconds sat drinking watered wine in the shade of Wall One.
‘Nice work,’ said Druss. ‘He’s good, though.’
‘Yes,’ said Hogun, wiping the sweat from his brow with a white towel. ‘But he is not as strong on the right.’
‘True. But you are slow against the leg cut.’
‘A Lancer’s main fault. It comes from too much work in the saddle,’ said Hogun. ‘He is shorter than I, which gives him an advantage in that respect.’
‘True. It has done Orrin good to reach the final. His cheers outnumber yours, I think?’
‘Yes, but that will not disturb me,’ said Hogun.
‘I hope it does not,’ said Druss. ‘Still, nothing could be better for morale than seeing the Fortress Gan perform so well.’ Hogun glanced up, holding
Druss’s gaze, then the old warrior smiled and moved back to his judge’s seat.
‘What was that about?’ asked Elicas, walking behind Hogun and kneading the muscles of his neck and shoulder. ‘Encouraging words?’
‘Yes,’ said Hogun. ‘Do some work on the forearm, will you? The muscles are knotted there.’
The young general grunted as Elicas probed the flesh with his powerful thumbs. Was Druss asking him to lose? Surely not. And yet . . .
It would do no harm for Orrin to win the Silver Sword and would certainly increase his growing standing with the troops.
‘What are you thinking?’ asked Elicas.
‘I’m thinking that he’s weak on the right.’
‘You will take him, Hogun,’ said the young officer. ‘Try that vicious parry-riposte you used on me.’
At two strikes even Hogun’s wooden blade snapped. Orrin stepped back, allowing a replacement, and offered his opponent a swift practice with the new weapon. Hogun was unhappy with the balance and changed the sword again. He needed time to think. Had Druss suggested he lose?’