‘Don’t hedge with me, boy. I asked for an opinion.’
‘No, you’re probably not. But you are a great warrior. I suppose in years gone by you would have been a war chief. I can’t tell. You’ve done wonders with the training; there’s a new spirit at the Dros.’
‘There were always leaders in my day,’ said Druss. ‘Strong men with quick minds. I have tried to remember all their lessons. But it’s hard, boy. Do you see? It’s hard. I’ve never been afraid of enemies I can face with an axe or my hands, if needs be. But the enemies at this fortress are not the same. Morale, preparation, fire gullies, supplies, liaison, organisation. It saps the soul.’
‘We’ll not fail you, Druss,’ said Gilad, his heart reaching out to the older man. ‘We will stand firm beside you. You have given us that, though I hated you for most of the training.’
‘Hate breeds strength, laddie. Of course you will hold. You’re men. Did you hear about Dun Mendar?’
‘Yes, it was tragic. A good job that he was there to aid you,’ said Gilad.
‘He was there to kill me, boy. And he almost did.’
‘What?’ said Gilad, shocked.
‘You heard me. And I don’t expect you to repeat it. He was in the pay of the Nadir and he led the assassins.’
‘But. . . that means you stood alone against them all,’ said Gilad. ‘Five of them and you survived?’
‘Aye, but they were a motley crew, and ill-trained. Do you know why I told you that. . . about Mendar?’
‘Because you wanted to talk?’
‘No. I’ve never been much of a talker, and I have little need for sharing my fears. No, I wanted you to know that I trust you. I want you to take over Mendar’s role. I’m promoting you to Dun.’
‘I don’t want it,’ said Gilad fiercely.
‘Do you think I want this responsibility? Why do you think I’ve spent this time here? I am trying to make you understand that often – more often than not – we are forced into doing what we fear. You will take over as of tomorrow.’
‘Why? Why me?’
‘Because I have watched you and I think you have a talent for leadership. You’ve impressed me in leading your ten. And you helped Orrin in that race. That was pride. Also I need you, and others like you.’
‘I’ve no experience,’ said Gilad, knowing it sounded lame.
‘That will come. Think on this: your friend Bregan is no soldier and some of your men will die at the first attack. Having a good officer will save some of them.’
‘All right. But I can’t afford to dine in the officers’ mess or run up an armourer’s bill. You will have to supply me with the uniform.’
‘Mendar’s gear should fit you, and you will put it to more noble use.’
‘Thank you. You said earlier on that you came here to die. Does that mean you think we cannot win?’
‘No, it doesn’t. Forget what I said.’
‘Damn you, Druss, don’t patronise me! You just talked about trust. Well, I’m an officer now and I asked you a straight question. I won’t repeat the answer. So trust me.’
Druss smiled and his eyes met the fierce gaze of the young sentry.
‘Very well. We have no chance in the long term. Every day brings us closer to a Nadir victory. But we will make them pay dearly. And you can believe that, laddie, for that’s Druss the Legend talking.’
‘Never mind the Legend,’ said Gilad, returning the other’s smile. “That’s the man who took on five assassins in a darkened alley.’
‘Don’t build me up too high because of that, Gilad. All men have talents. Some build, some paint, some write, some fight. For me it is different. I have always had a way with death.’
*
The girl moved along the battlements, ignoring the comments of the soldiers; her auburn hair glinting in the morning sun, her long legs, slender and bronzed, the objects of many of the friendly though intimate comments from the troops. She smiled once, when one of the men she passed murmured to a companion, ‘I think I’m in love.’ She blew him a kiss and winked.