THE KING BEYOND THE GATE by David A. Gemmell

‘Decado!’ he shouted as the fear hit him. Instantly the warmth of friendship blanketed him as Decado and his six warriors turned the power of their minds to protect him.

Angry now, Ananais bellowed for Breight to approach. The old man hesitated, but one of the Templars leaned in to him and he spurred his horse forward, riding awkwardly up the steep slope.

‘That is far enough!’ said Ananais, moving forward.

‘Is it you, Golden One?’ asked Breight, his voice deep and resonant. The eyes were brown and exceedingly friendly.

‘It is I. Say what you have to say.’

“There is no need for harshness between us, Ananais. Was I not the first to cheer when you were honoured for your battle triumphs? Did I not secure your first commission with the Dragon? Was I not your mother’s troth-holder?’

‘All these things and more, old man! But now you are a lick-spittle lackey to a tyrant and the past is dead.’

‘You misjudge my lord Ceska – he has only the good of the Drenai in his heart. These are hard times, Ananais. Bitter hard. Our enemies wage a silent war upon us, starving us of food. Not one kingdom around us wishes to see the enlightenment of the Drenai prosper, for it signals the end of their corruption.’

‘Spare me this nonsense, Breight! I cannot be bothered to argue with you. What do you want?’

‘I see your terrible wounds have made you bitter and I am sorry for that. I bring you a royal pardon! My lord is deeply offended by your actions against him, yet your past deeds have earned you a place in his heart. In your honour, he has pardoned every man who stands against him in Skoda. Further, he promises to review personally every grievance you have, real or imagined. Can he be fairer than that?’

Breight had pitched his voice to carry to the listening defenders and his eyes scanned the line watching for their reactions.

‘Ceska would not know “fair” if it burned his buttocks,’ said Ananais. ‘The man is a snake!’

‘I understand your hatred, Ananais – look at you . . . scarred, deformed, unhuman. But surely there is a shred of humanity left in you? Why should your hatred carry thousands of innocent souls to terrible deaths? You cannot win! The Joinings are now assembling and there is no army on the face of the earth which can stand against them. Will you bring this devastation upon these people? Look into your heart, man!’

‘I will not argue with you old man. Down there your men wait, and among them are the Templars – they who feed on the flesh of children. Your semi-human beasts gather in Drenan, and daily thousands of innocents pour into this small bastion of freedom. All of this gives the lie to your words. I am not even angry with you, Breight the Survivor! You sold your soul for a silk-covered couch. But I understand you – you are a frightened old man who has never lived because you never dared to live.

‘In these mountains there is life and the air tastes like wine. You are right when you say we may not stand against the Joinings. We know that for we are not fools. There is no glory here; but we are men and the sons of men, and we bend the knee to no one. Why don’t you join us, and learn even now of the joys of freedom?’

‘Freedom? You are in a cage, Ananais. The Vagrians will not let you move east into their lands, and we wait in the west. You delude yourself. What price your freedom? In a matter of days the armies of the emperor will gather here, filling the plain. You have seen the Joinings of Ceska – well, there are more to come. Huge beasts, blended from the apes of the east, from the great bears of the north, from the wolves of the south. They strike like lightning and they feed on human flesh. Your pitiful force will be swept aside like dust before a storm. Tell me then of freedom, Ananais. I desire not the freedom of the grave.’