One officer complained that the latrine area of Wall One was in danger of causing a health hazard, since it was not of regulation depth and lacked an adequate cess pit.
Druss set a working party to enlarge the area.
Abalayn himself demanded a complete strategic appraisal of all Dros Delnoch’s defences, which Druss refused since the information could be leaked to Nadir sympathisers. This in turn brought a swift rebuke from Drenan and a firm request for an apology. Orrin penned this, claiming it would keep the politicians off their backs.
Then Woundweaver sent a requisition for the Legion’s mounts, claiming that since the order was to hold to the last man, the horses would be of little use at Delnoch. He allowed that twenty should be retained for dispatch purposes. This so enraged Hogun that he was unapproachable for days.
Added to this, the burghers had begun to complain about the rowdy behaviour of the troops in civilian areas. All in all Druss was beginning to feel at the end of his tether, and had begun to voice openly his desire that the Nadir would arrive and the devil with the consequences!
Three days later his wish was partly answered.
A Nadir troop, under a flag of truce, galloped in from the north. Word spread like wildfire, and by the time it reached Druss in the main hall of the Keep an air of panic was abroad in the town.
The Nadir dismounted in the shadow of the great gates and waited. They did not speak. From their pack-saddles they took dried meat and water sacks and sat together, eating and waiting.
By the time Druss arrived with Orrin and Hogun they had completed their meal. Druss bellowed down from the battlements.
‘What is your message?’
‘Open the gates!’ called back the Nadir officer, a short barrel-chested man, bow-legged and powerful.
‘Are you the Deathwalker?’ called the man.
‘Yes.’
‘You are old and fat. It pleases me.’
‘Good! Remember that when next we meet, for I have marked you, Loudmouth, and my axe knows the name of your spirit. Now, what is your message?’
“The Lord Ulric, Prince of the North, bids me to tell you that he will be riding to Drenan to discuss an alliance with Abalayn, Lord of the Drenai. He wishes it known that he expects the gates of Dros Delnoch to be open to him; that being so, he guarantees there will be no harm to any man, woman, or child, soldier or otherwise within the city. It is the Lord Ulric’s wish that the Drenai and the Nadir become as one nation. He offers the gift of friendship.’
‘Tell the Lord Ulric,’ said Druss, ‘that he is welcome to ride to Drenan at any time. We will even allow an escort of 100 warriors, as befits a prince of the north.’
‘The Lord Ulric allows no conditions,’ said the officer.
‘These are my conditions – they shall not change,’ said Druss.
‘Then I have a second message. Should the walls be contested and the gates closed, the Lord Ulric wishes it known that every second defender taken alive will be slain, that all the women will be sold into slavery and that one in three of all citizens will lose his right hand.’
‘Before that can happen, laddie, the Lord Ulric has to take the Dros. Now you give him this message from Druss the Deathwalker: In the north the mountains may tremble as he breaks wind, but this is Drenai land, and as far as I am concerned he is a pot-bellied savage who couldn’t pick his own nose without a Drenai map.
‘Do you think you can remember that, laddie. Or shall I carve it on your arse in large letters?’
‘Inspiring as your words were, Druss,’ said Orrin, ‘I must tell you that my stomach turned over as you spoke them. Ulric will be furious.’
‘Would that he were,’ said Druss bitterly, as the Nadir troop galloped back to the north. ‘If that were the case, he would truly be just a pot-bellied savage. No! He will laugh . . . loud and long.’
‘Why should he?’ asked Hogun.’
‘Because he has no choice. He has been insulted and should lose face. When he laughs, the men will laugh with him.’