LEGEND by David A. Gemmell

‘No, she’s a wonderful lass. Be lucky.’

‘I will try hard,’ said Rek.

At the quayside a young red-caped officer eased his way through the crowd to confront Serbitar.

‘Your business in Dros Purdol?’ he asked.

‘We are travelling to Delnoch as soon as we can obtain horses,’ answered the albino.

‘The fortress will soon be under siege, sir. Are you aware of the coming war?’

‘We are. We travel with the Lady Virae, daughter of Earl Delnar, and her husband Regnak.’

Seeing Virae, the officer bowed: ‘A pleasure, my lady. We met at your eighteenth birthday celebration last year. You probably won’t remember me.’

‘On the contrary, Dun Degas! We danced and I trod on your foot. You were most kind and took the blame.’

Degas smiled and bowed again. How she had changed, he thought! Where was the clumsy girl who had contrived to trip on the hem of her skirt? Who had blushed as red as the wine when, during a heated conversation, she had crushed a crystal goblet, drenching the woman to her right. What had changed? She was the same woman-girl he remem­bered – her hair mousy blonde, her mouth too wide, her brows thunder-dark over deep set eyes. He saw her smile as Rek stepped forward and his question was answered. She had become desirable.

‘What are you thinking, Degas?’ she asked. ‘You look far away.’

‘My apologies, my lady. I was thinking Earl Pindak will be delighted to receive you.’

‘You will have to convey my regrets,’ said Virae, ‘for we must leave as soon as possible. Where can we purchase mounts?’

‘I am sure we can find you good horses,’ said Degas. ‘It is a shame you did not arrive sooner, since four days ago we sent three hundred men to Delnoch to aid the defence. You could have travelled with them – it would have been safer. The Sathuli have grown bold since the Nadir threat.’

‘We shall get there,’ said the tall man with Virae. Degas’s eyes measured him: a soldier, he thought, or has been at some time. Carries himself well. Degas directed the party to a large inn, promising to supply the horses within two hours.

True to his word, he returned with a troop of Drenai cavalrymen riding thirty-two horses. They were not of the pedigree of the mounts left behind in Lentria, being mustangs bred for mountain work, but they were sturdy animals. When the horses had been allocated and the provisions packed, Degas approached Rek.

‘There is no charge for these mounts, but I would be obliged if you could deliver these despatches to the Earl. They came by sea from Drenan yesterday and missed our force. The one with the red seal is from Abalayn.’

‘The Earl will receive them,’ said Rek. ‘Thank you for your help.’

‘It is nothing. Good luck!’ The officer moved on to make his farewells to Virae. Pushing the letters into the saddle-bag of his roan mare, Rek mounted and led the party west from Purdol along the line of the Delnoch mountains. Serbitar cantered alongside him as they entered the first of the deep woods beyond the town.

‘You look troubled,’ said Rek.

‘Yes. There will be outlaws, renegades, perhaps deserters, and certainly Sathuli tribesmen along our route.’

‘But that is not what troubles you?’

‘You are perceptive,’ said Serbitar.

‘How true. But then I saw the corpse walk.’

‘Indeed you did,’ said Serbitar.

‘You have hedged about that night for long enough,’ said Rek. ‘Now give me the truth of it. Do you know what it was?’

‘Vintar believes it to be a demon summoned by Nosta Khan. He is the head shaman to Ulric’s Wolfs-head tribe – and therefore Lord of all Nadir shaman. He is old and it is said he first served Ulric’s great­grandfather. He is a man steeped in evil.’

‘And his powers are greater than yours?’

‘Individually, yes. Collectively? I don’t think so. We are presently stopping him from entering Delnoch, but he in turn has cast a veil over the fortress and we cannot enter.’

‘Will he attack us again?’ asked Rek.

‘Assuredly. The question is what method he will choose.’

‘I think I will leave you to worry about that,’ said Rek. ‘I can only take in so much gloom in one day.’