LEGEND by David A. Gemmell

‘A fine speech,’ said Druss. ‘Very fine.’

‘Thank you. Yours, I think, was better,’ said Bricklyn, pouring himself a glass of Vagrian White from a stone jug.

‘Nonsense. You are a born speaker.’

‘It’s strange you should say that. I remember when I gave a speech in Drenan for the wedding of Count Maritin . . . you know the count, of course? . . . Anyway, he said . . .’ And so it went on, with Druss smiling and nodding, Bricklyn finding more and more stories to outline his qualities.

Towards midnight as prearranged, Delnar’s eld­erly servant, Arshin, approached Druss and announced – loudly enough for Bricklyn to overhear – that Druss was needed on Wall Three to supervise a new detachment of archers and their placement. It was not before time. Throughout the evening Druss had drunk no more than a single goblet, yet his head swam and his legs shook as he pushed himself upright. He made his apologies to the stout burgher, bowed to the assembly and marched from the room. In the corridor outside he stopped and leaned against a pillar.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ asked Arshin.

‘The wine was bad,’ muttered Druss. ‘It’s hit my stomach worse than a Ventrian breakfast.’

‘You’d better get to bed, sir. I will take a message to Dun Mendar to attend you in your room.’

‘Mendar? Why the hell should he attend me?’

‘I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t mention it in the Hall as you had told me what to say when I approached you, but Dun Mendar asked if you could spare him a moment. He has a serious problem, he said.’

Druss rubbed his eyes and took several deep breaths. His belly felt weak, disconnected and frag­ile. He toyed with the idea of sending Arshin to explain to the young Karnak officer, but then realised word would get round that Druss was sick. Or worse, that he couldn’t hold his wine.

‘Maybe the air will do me good. Where is he?’

‘He said he would meet you at the inn by Unicorn Alley. Turn right outside the Keep until you reach the first market square, then turn left by the miller’s. Walk on through Baker’s Row until you reach the armoury repair shop, then turn right. That’s Unicorn Alley and the inn is at the far end.’

Druss asked the man to repeat the directions, then pushed himself from the wall and staggered out into the night. The stars were bright, the sky cloudless. He sucked in the crisp air and felt his stomach turn.

‘Damn this,’ he said angrily, and found a secluded spot by the Keep, away from the sentries, where he made himself vomit. Cold sweat covered his brow and his head ached as he pushed himself upright, but at least his stomach seemed more settled. He headed towards the first square, located the miller’s store and turned left. Already the smell of baking bread was coming from the ovens in Baker’s Row.

The smell made him retch again. Angry now at his condition, he hammered on the first door he came to. A short, fat baker in a white cotton apron opened the door and peered nervously at him.

‘Yes?’ he said.

‘I am Druss. Do you have a loaf ready?’

‘It’s only just past midnight. I have some bread from yesterday, but if you wait for a while I will have fresh. What’s the matter? You look green.’

‘Just get me a loaf – and hurry!’ Druss clamped a hand to the door frame, pulling himself upright. What the hell was wrong with that wine? Or maybe it was the food. He hated rich food. Too many years on dried beef and raw vegetables. His body couldn’t take it, but it had never reacted like this before.

The man trotted back down the short hallway bearing a hefty chunk of black bread and a small phial.

‘Drink this,’ he said. ‘I have an ulcer and Calvar Syn says it settles the stomach faster than anything else.’ Gratefully Druss downed the contents of the phial. It tasted like charcoal. Then he tore a great bite from the bread, sliding gratefully to the floor with his back against the door. His stomach rebelled, but he gritted his teeth and finished the loaf; within a few minutes he was feeling better. His head ached like the devil and his vision was a little blurred, but his legs felt fine and he had strength enough to bluff his way through a short chat with Mendar.