THE KING BEYOND THE GATE by David A. Gemmell

Decado’s thoughts were interrupted as the yellow-bearded Acuas cantered alongside.

‘It will be close, Decado. The Templars have found their trail at some devastated village. They will have made their move by morning.’

‘How soon can we reach them?’

‘Dawn at the earliest.’

‘Back to your prayers, then, yellowbeard. And make them powerful.’

He spurred his horse to a gallop and The Thirty followed him.

*

It was close to dawn and the companions had ridden through most of the night, stopping only for an hour to rest the horses. The Skoda range loomed ahead and Tenaka was anxious to reach their sanctuary. The sun, hidden now beyond the eastern horizon, was stirring and the stars faded as a pink glow painted the sky.

The riders left a grove of trees and emerged on to a broad grassland, swirling in mist. Tenaka felt a sudden chill touch his bones; he shivered and drew his cloak about him. He was tired and discontented.

He had not spoken to Renya since their fight in the forest, yet he thought of her constantly. Far from removing her from his mind by turning on her, he had succeeded only in bringing himself fresh misery. And yet he was incapable of crossing the gulf he had opened between them. He glanced back to where she rode alongside Ananais, laughing at some jest; then turned away.

Ahead, like dark demons out of the past, twenty riders waited in a line. They sat their horses immobile, black cloaks flapping in the breeze. Tenaka reined his mount some fifty paces from the centre of their line and his companions rode alongside.

‘What in Hell’s name are they?’ asked Ananais.

‘They are seeking me,’ answered Tenaka. ‘They came at me in a dream.’

‘I don’t wish to appear defeatist, but there are rather too many for us to handle. Do we run?’

‘From these men you cannot run,’ said Tenaka tonelessly as he dismounted.

The twenty riders followed course, walking forward slowly through the mist, and it seemed to Renya they moved like the shades of the dead on a ghostly sea. Their armour was jet, helms covered their faces, dark swords were in their hands. Tenaka went forward to meet them, hand on sword-hilt.

Ananais shook his head. A strange trancelike state had come upon him, leaving him a powerless observer. He slid from the saddle, drew his own sword and joined Tenaka.

The Dark Templars halted and their leader stepped forward.

‘We have no commission to kill you yet, Ananais,’ he said.

‘I don’t die easily,’ said Ananais. He was about to add an insult, but the words froze in his mouth as a terrible fear struck him like a blast of icy air. He began to tremble and the urge to run rose in him.

‘You die as easily as any other mortal,’ said the man. ‘Go back! Ride away to whatever doom awaits you.’

Ananais said nothing; he swallowed hard and looked at Tenaka. His friend’s face was bone-white, and it was obvious that the same fear washed over him.

Galand and Parsal moved alongside them, swords in hand.

‘Do you think to stand against us?’ said the leader. ‘A hundred men could not stand against us. Listen to my words and hear the truth – feel it through your terror.’

The fear increased and the horses grew skittish, whinnying their alarm. Scaler and Belder leapt from the saddles, sensing the beasts were about to bolt. Pagan leaned forward, patting his horse’s neck; the beast settled down, but its ears were flat against its skull and he knew it was close to panic. Valtaya and Renya jumped clear as their horses bolted, then helped the village woman, Parise, to dismount.

Shielding her baby who had begun to scream – Parise lay down on the ground, shaking uncontrollably.

Pagan dismounted and drew his sword, walking forward slowly to stand beside Tenaka and the others. Belder and Scaler followed.

‘Draw your sword,’ whispered Renya, but Scaler ignored her. It was all he could do to muster enough courage to stand alongside Tenaka Khan. Any thoughts of actually fighting beside him were buried under the weight of his terror.