‘I don’t think that makes a great deal of sense. Why should she try to win my heart if she hates me?’
‘So that she can be in a position to treat you with disdain. Do you know nothing about women?’
‘I know enough,’ said Hogun. ‘I also know that I don’t have time for this foolishness. Should I apologise to her, do you think?’
‘And let her know you know how slighted she was? My dear boy, your education has been sadly lacking!’
18
Druss welcomed the arrival of the Dros Purdol riders – not so much for their numbers, more for the fact that their arrival proved that the Dros had not been forgotten by the outside world.
Yet still, Druss knew, the defenders would be badly stretched. The first battle on Eldibar, Wall One, would either raise the men – or destroy them. The Delnoch fighting edge was sharp enough, but spirit was a different thing. You could fashion the finest steel into a sword blade of passing excellence, but occasionally the move from fire to water would cause it to crack where blades of lesser metal survived. An army was like that, Druss knew. He had seen highly trained men panic and run, and farmers stand their ground, armed with picks and hoes.
Bowman and his archers practiced daily now on Kania, Wall Three, which had the longest stretch of ground between the mountains. They were superb. The 600 archers could send 3,000 arrows arcing through the air every ten heartbeats. The first charge would bring the Nadir into range for nearly two minutes before the siege ladders could reach the walls. The attacking warriors would suffer terrible losses over the open ground. It would be bloody carnage. But would it be enough?
They were about to see the greatest army ever assembled, a horde that within twenty years had built an empire stretching across a dozen lands and five-score cities. Ulric was on the verge of creating the largest empire in known history, a mighty achievement for a man not yet out of his forties.
Druss walked the Eldibar battlements, chatting to individual soldiers, joking with them, laughing with them. Their hatred of him had vanished like dawn mist during these last days. They saw him now for what he was: an iron old man, a warrior from the past, a living echo of ancient glories.
They remembered then that he had chosen to stand with them. And they knew why. This was the only place in all the world for the last of the old heroes: Druss the Legend, standing with the last hopes of the Drenai on the battlements of the greatest fortress ever built, waiting for the largest army in the world. Where else would he be?
Slowly the crowds gathered about him, as more men made their way to Eldibar. Before long Druss was threading his way through massed ranks on the battlements, while even more soldiers gathered on the open ground behind them. He climbed to the crenellated battlement wall and turned to face them. His voice-boomed out, silencing the chatter.
‘Look about you!’ he called, the sun glinting from the silver shoulder guards on his black leather jerkin, his white beard glistening. ‘Look about you now. The men you see are your comrades – your brothers. They will live with you and die for you. They will protect you and bleed for you. Never in your lives will you know such comradeship again. And if you live to be as old as I am, you will always remember this day and the days to follow. You will remember them with a clearness you would never have believed. Each day will be like crystal, shining in your minds.
‘Yes, there will be blood and havoc, torture and pain, and you will remember that too. But above all will be the sweet taste of life. And there is nothing like it, my lads.
‘You can believe this old man when he says it. You may think life is sweet now, but when death is a heartbeat away then life becomes unbearably desirable. And when you survive, everything you do will be enhanced and filled with greater joy: the sunlight, the breeze, a good wine, a woman’s lips, a child’s laughter.