THE KING BEYOND THE GATE by David A. Gemmell

Rayvan turned to the defenders. ‘Clear the dead from the walls, you numbskulls!’ she shouted. ‘Come on now. Move yourselves. You women, grab some swords. And find yourselves some helmets,’ she yelled as an afterthought. A dead Legion soldier lay close to her and she tugged loose his .helm before rolling the body from the ramparts. The helm was bronze with a black horse-hair plume. It fitted well, she thought, as she buckled the chin-strap.

‘You looked damned fetching, Rayvan,’ said Thorn, moving alongside her.

‘Fancy people in helmets, do you, you old stag?’

‘I have always fancied you, woman! Ever since that day in the north meadow.’

‘Ah, you do remember? That is a compliment.’

Thorn laughed. ‘I don’t think any man would forget you.’

‘Only you would talk about sex in the middle of a battle. You are a goat, old man! At least Ananais had the courtesy to ask me to marry him.’

‘Did he now? Don’t accept – he has a roving eye.’

‘It won’t rove far in a day,’ she said.

The Legion charged again.

For an hour they fought to gain a toehold on the ramparts, but the defenders had found fresh strength and courage. Lake had gathered sacks of small stones which he poured into the bowls of his giant bows. Three times the missiles whistled and slashed into the Legion before one of the bows snapped under the strain.

The invaders fell back.

As the sun fell on the third day the wall still held.

*

Ananais called Balan to him. ‘What news of Tarsk?’

‘It is strange,’ said Balan. ‘There was one attack this morning, but since then nothing. The army merely sits.’

‘I wish to Heaven they would do that here,’ said Ananais.

Tell me, Darkmask, are you a believer?’

‘In what?’

‘You mentioned Heaven.’

‘I don’t know enough to believe,’ said Ananais.

‘Decado promised me that I would not be alone. And yet I am. The others have gone. Either they are dead and I am a fool, or they have been taken to the Source and I am refused.’

‘Why should you be refused?’

Balan shrugged. ‘I never had faith, I had talents. My faith was part of a corporate faith. You understand? The others believed and I felt their belief. With them gone … I don’t know any more.’

‘I cannot help you, Balan.’

‘No. No one can.’

‘I think maybe it is better to believe than not to believe. But I couldn’t tell you why,’ said Ananais.

‘It creates hope against the evil of the world,’ said Balan.

‘Something like that. Tell me, do husbands and wives stay together in your heaven?’

‘I don’t know. That has been a debating point for centuries,’ said the priest.

‘But there is a chance?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Then come with me,’ said Ananais, pulling the man to his feet. They walked across the grass to the tents of the refugees where Rayvan sat with her friends.

She watched them approach, then Ananais halted before her and bowed.

‘Woman, I have a priest with me. Do you wish to wed again?’

‘You fool!’ she said, chuckling.

‘Not at all. I have always wanted to find a woman with whom I would like to spend the rest of my life. But I never have. Now it looks as though I am going to spend the rest of my life with you. So I thought I would make an honest woman of you.’

‘This is all well and good, Darkmask,’ she said, pushing herself to her feet, ‘except that I don’t love you.’

‘Nor I you. But once you appreciate my great qualities, I am sure you will come round.’

‘Very well,’ said Rayvan with a broad smile. ‘But there will be no consummation until the third night. Mountain custom!’

‘Agreed,’ said Ananais. ‘Anyway, I have a headache.’

‘This is a nonsense,’ snapped Balan. ‘I will have no part in it – it makes a mockery of a sacred bond.’

Ananais laid his hand on Balan’s shoulder. ‘No, it does not, priest,’ he said softly. ‘It is a light-hearted moment in the midst of horror. Look around you at the smiles.’

Balan sighed. ‘Very well. Both of you approach.’

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