THE KING BEYOND THE GATE by David A. Gemmell

‘You are a mess,’ she said. ‘Your body is a patchwork of bruises.’

‘You should feel them from this side.’

‘You are getting tod old for this,’ she said mischievously.

‘A man is as old as he feels, woman!’ he snapped.

‘And how old do you feel?’

‘About ninety,’ he admitted. She covered him with a blanket and sat staring out at the night. It was peaceful here, away from war and the talk of war. Truthfully she did not care about overthrowing the Ceska – she did care about being with Tenaka Khan. Men were so stupid; they didn’t understand the reality of life at all.

Love was what mattered. Love of one for one. The touching of hands, the touching of hearts. The warmth of belonging, the joy of sharing. There would always be tyrants. Man seemed incapable of existing without them. For without tyrants there would be no heroes. And Man could not live without heroes.

Renya wrapped herself in her cloak and added the last of the wood to the fire. Tenaka lay asleep, his head resting on his saddle.

‘Where would you be without Ceska, my love?’ she asked him, knowing he could not hear her. ‘I think you need him more than you need me.’

His violet eyes opened and he smiled sleepily.

‘Not true,’ he said. Then his eyes closed once more.

‘Liar,’ she whispered, curling up beside him.

16

Scaler, Belder and Pagan lay on their bellies overlooking the Drenai camp. There were twenty soldiers sitting around five camp-fires. The prisoners sat back-to-back at the centre of the camp and sentries patrolled near them.

‘Are you sure this is necessary?’ asked Belder.

‘It is,’ Scaler told him. ‘If we rescue two Sathuli warriors, it will give us a great advantage in seeking aid from the tribesmen.’

‘They look too well-guarded to me,’ muttered the older man.

‘I agree,’ said Pagan. ‘There is one guard within ten paces of the prisoners. Two others patrol the edge of the trees and a fourth has positioned himself in the forest.’

‘Could you find him?’

Pagan grinned. ‘Of course. But what of the other three?’

‘Find the one in the forest and bring me his armour,’ said Scaler.

Pagan slipped away and Belder slithered across to lie beside Scaler. ‘You’re not going down there?’

‘Of course. It’s a deception – that’s something I am good at.’

‘You won’t be able to pull it off. We shall be taken.’

‘Please, Belder, no morale-boosting speeches -you will make me conceited.’

‘Well, I’m not going down there.’

‘I don’t recall asking you.’

It was almost half an hour before Pagan returned. He was carrying the sentry’s clothes wrapped in the man’s red cloak.

‘I hid the body as best I could,’ he said. ‘How soon will they change the guards?’

‘An hour – maybe a little less,’ said Belder. “There’s not enough time.’

Scaler opened the bundle, examined the contents and then buckled on the breastplate. It was a poor fit but better too large than too small, he thought.

‘How do I look? he asked, placing the plumed helm upon his head.

‘Ridiculous,’ said Belder. ‘You won’t fool them for a minute.’

‘Old man,’ hissed Pagan, ‘you are a pain in the ears! We have only been together three days and already I am sick of you. Now close your mouth.’

Belder was about to whisper a cutting reply, but the look in the black man’s eyes stopped him dead. The man was ready to kill him! His blood froze and he turned away.

‘What is your plan?’ asked Pagan.

‘There are three guards, but only one near the prisoners. I intend to relieve him.’

‘And the other two?’

‘That’s as far as I have worked it out.’

‘It is a beginning,’ said Pagan. ‘If the first part works, and the man takes to his blankets, move across to the other two. Keep your knife handy and make your move when I make mine.’

Scaler licked his lips. Keep your knife handy? He wasn’t sure he would have the nerve to plunge the blade into someone’s body.

Together the two men crept through the undergrowth towards the camp. The moon was bright, but the occasional cloud masked it, plunging the clearing into darkness. The fires had burned low and the warriors were sleeping soundly.