LEGEND by David A. Gemmell

‘Given a day,’ said Marie the Builder, ‘that mass will be almost immovable.’

‘Nothing is immovable,’ said his companion. ‘But it will take them weeks to make it passable, and even then the stairways were designed to be defensible.’

‘One way or the other, I shall not see it,’ said Marie. ‘I leave today.’

‘You are early, surely?’ said his friend. ‘Marrissa and I also plan to leave. But not until the fourth wall falls.’

‘First wall, fourth wall, what is the difference? All the more time to put distance between myself and this war. Ventria has need of builders. And their army is strong enough to hold the Nadir for years.’

‘Perhaps. But I will wait.’

‘Don’t wait too long, my friend,’ said Marie.

Back at the Keep, Rek lay staring at the ornate ceiling. The bed was comfortable and Virae’s naked form nestled into him, her head resting on his shoulder. The meeting had finished two hours since and he could not sleep. His mind was alive with plans, counter-plans and all the myriad problems of a city under siege. The debate had been acrimoni­ous, and pinning down any of those politicians was like threading a needle under water. The consensus opinion was that Delnoch should surrender.

Only the red-faced Lentrian, Malphar, had backed Rek. That oily serpent, Shinell, had offered to lead a ‘delegation to Ulric personally. And what of Beric, who felt himself tricked by fate in that his bloodline had been rulers of Delnoch for centuries, yet he had lost out by being a second son? Bitterness was deep within him. The lawyer, Backda, had said little, but his words were acid when they came.

‘You seek to stop the sea with a leaking bucket.’

Rek had struggled to hold his temper. He had not seen any of them standing on the battlements with sword in hand. Nor would they. Horeb had a saying that matched these men:

‘In any broth, the scum always rises to the top.’

He had thanked them for their counsel and agreed to meet in five days’ time to answer their proposals.

Virae stirred beside him. Her arm moved the coverlet, exposing a rounded breast. Rek smiled, and for the first time in days thought about some­thing other than war.

*

Bowman and a thousand archers stood on the ram­parts of Eldibar watching the Nadir mass for the charge. Arrows were loosely notched to the string, hats tilted at a jaunty angle to keep the right eye in shadow against the rising sun.

The horde screamed their hatred and surged forward.

Bowman waited. He licked his dry lips.

‘Now!’ he yelled, smoothly drawing back the string to touch his right cheek. The arrow leapt free with a thousand others, to be lost within the surging mass below. Again and again they fired until their quivers were empty. Finally Caessa leapt to the battlements and fired her last arrow straight down at a man pushing a ladder against the wall. The shaft entered at the top of the shoulder and sheared through his leather jerkin, lancing through his lung and lodging in his belly. He dropped without a sound.

Grappling-irons clattered to the ramparts.

‘Back!’ yelled Bowman, and began to run across the open ground, across the fire-gully bridges and the trench of oil-soaked brush. Ropes were lowered and the archers swiftly scaled them. Back at Eldibar the first of the Nadir had gained the wall. For long moments they milled in confusion before they spot­ted the archers clambering to safety. Within minutes the tribesmen had gathered several thousand strong. They hauled their ladders over Eldibar and advanced on Musif. Then arrows of fire arced over the open ground to vanish within the oil-soaked brush. Instantly thick smoke welled from the gully, closely followed by roaring flames twice the height of a man.

The Nadir fell back. The Drenai cheered.

The brush blazed for over an hour, and the four thousand warriors manning Musif were stood down. Some lay in groups on the grass; others wandered to the three mess halls for a second breakfast. Many sat in the shade of the rampart towers.

Druss strolled among the men, swopping jests here and there; accepting a chunk of black bread from one man, an orange from another. He saw Rek and Virae sitting alone near the eastern cliff and wandered across to join them.