Curses exploded from the Bild men seated around the circle, to be drowned by jeers from the other groups.
‘Next, Gorbadac!’ announced Druss. The two advanced more warily than their predecessors, then the tallest one dived towards Druss’s middle with arms outstretched. The axeman’s knee came up to meet him and he sagged to the grass. The second attacked almost immediately, only to be backhanded contemptuously across the cheek. He tripped over his fallen comrade and fell heavily. The first man was unconscious and had to be carried to the back of the circle.
‘Now, Falcon!’ said Druss. This time he watched them advance, then bellowed at the top of his voice and charged. The first man’s mouth fell open in surprise, the second took a backward step and tripped. Druss hit the first man with a straight left; he went down and lay still.
‘Karnak?’ said Druss. Gilad and Bregan entered the circle. Druss had seen the dark one before and liked the look of him. A born warrior, the old man had thought. He enjoyed seeing the look of hatred the boy threw at him every time he laughed at him, and liked the way he had dropped back to help Orrin. Druss flicked his gaze to the second man. Surely here was an error? The chubby one was no fighter, nor would ever be – good-natured and tough, but never a warrior.
Gilad launched himself forward and checked as Druss raised his fists. Druss twisted to keep him in vision; then hearing a sound from behind, he whirled to see the fat one attack, trip, and fall sprawling at his feet. Chuckling he swung back to Gilad – turning into a flying kick that hammered into his chest. He took a backward step to brace himself, but the fat one had rolled behind him and Druss hit the ground with a grunt.
A massive roar rose from two hundred throats. Druss smiled and rolled to his feet smoothly, holding up a hand for silence.
‘I want you to think about what you’ve seen today, my lads,’ said Druss, ‘for it wasn’t only fun. You have seen what one man can do, and you have also seen what a simple bit of teamwork can achieve.
‘Now, when the Nadir are swarming over the walls you will all be hard pressed to defend yourselves – but you’ve got to do more than that. You’ve got to protect your comrades where you can, for no warrior has a defence against a sword in the back. I want each of you to find a sword brother. You don’t have to be friends – that will come. But you need understanding and you need to work at it. You will protect each other’s backs when the assault comes, so make your choices well. Those of you who lose a sword brother when the fighting starts, find another. Failing that, do what you can for the men around you.
‘I have been a warrior for more than forty years – twice as long as most of you have lived. Bear that in mind. What I say is of value – for I have survived.
‘There is only one way to survive in war, and that is by being willing to die. You will find soon that fine swordsmen can be downed by untutored savages who would slice their fingers if asked to carve meat. And how? Because the savage is willing. Worse, he may be baresark.
‘The man who takes a backward step against a Nadir warrior is stepping into eternity. Meet them head to head, savage to savage.
‘You have heard it said that this is a lost cause and you will hear it again. I have heard it a thousand times in a hundred lands.
‘Mostly you hear it from faint-hearts, and can ignore it. Often, however, you will hear it from seasoned veterans. Ultimately such prophecies are worthless.
‘There are half a million Nadir warriors. An awesome figure! One to numb the mind. But the walls are only so long and so wide. They cannot all come over at once. We will kill them as they do, and we will kill hundreds more as they climb. And day by day we will wear them down.