LEGEND by David A. Gemmell

‘They are inconsequential. Whether they see you or not will not alter the fact that they were wrong. And it is a little early for despair. It is spring, and it will be many weeks before we reach the Dros. All things can happen in that time. Ulric may have a heart attack, or fall from his horse and crush his skull. Abalayn may make another treaty. The attack may come at another fortress. Who knows?’

‘I know. You are right. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so full of self-pity. Meeting Rek was mar­vellous for me. You should have seen him standing up to Reinard’s outlaws. You know of Reinard?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, you won’t have to worry about him any more. He’s dead. Anyway, Rek stood up to twenty of them because they were going to take me. Twenty! He would have fought them all. Damn, I’m going to cry!’

‘Why should you not cry? You are in love with a man who adores you, and the future looks bleak and empty of hope.’ He walked to her, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘Virae, it is always harder for the young.’

She rested her head on his chest as the tears ran. He put his arms round her and patted her back. ‘Can Dros Delnoch hold?’ she asked him.

‘All things can happen. Did you know Druss is on his way there?’

‘He agreed? That is good news.’ She sniffed and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. Then Rek’s words came back to her. ‘He’s not senile, is he?’

Vintar laughed aloud. ‘Druss! Senile? Certainly not. What a wonderful thought! That is one old man who will never be senile. It would mean giving in to something. I used to believe that if Druss wanted night to last longer, he would just reach up and drag the sun back down over the horizon.’

‘You knew him?’

‘Yes. And his wife, Rowena. A beautiful child. A Speaker of rare talent. Gifted, even beyond Serbitar.’

‘I always thought Rowena was just part of the legend,’ said Virae. ‘Did he really cross the world to find her?’

‘Yes,’ said Vintar, releasing Virae and returning to his desk. ‘She was taken prisoner soon after they wed, when the village was attacked by slavers. He hunted her for years. They were a blissfully happy couple. Like you and Rek, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘She died. Soon after Skeln Pass. A weak heart.’

‘Poor Druss,’ she said. ‘But he is still strong, you say?’

‘When he stares, valleys tremble,’ quoted Vintar, ‘where he walks beasts are silent, when he speaks mountains tumble, when he fights armies crumble.’

‘But can he still fight?’ she pressed.

‘I think he will manage a skirmish or two,’ said Vintar, roaring with laughter.

7

Two days and twenty-seven leagues from Skoda and Druss, with a mile-eating soldier’s stride, was nearing the lush valleys at the edge of Skultik Forest. He was three days’ march from Dros Delnoch, and evidence of the coming war met his eyes everywhere. Deserted homes, untended fields and the people he did meet were wary and mistrustful of strangers. They wore defeat like a cloak, Druss thought. Top­ping a small rise he found himself looking down on a village of maybe thirty homes, some crudely built, others showing signs of more careful construction. At the centre of the hamlet was a square, an inn and a stable.

Druss rubbed his thigh, trying to ease the rheu­matic pain in his swollen right knee. His right shoulder ached, but this was a dull throbbing he could live with, a reminder of past battles when a Ventrian spear had cut under his shoulder blade. But the knee! This would not bear him many more leagues without rest and an ice pack.

He hawked and spat, wiping a huge hand across his bearded lips. You’re an old man, he told himself. There is no point in pretending otherwise. He limped down the hill towards the inn, wondering once more whether he should purchase a mount. His head told him yes, his heart said no. He was Druss the Legend and he never rode. Tireless he could walk all night and fight all day. It would be good for morale when