Slowly he made his way to the general. Half of Gargan’s face was blistered and black. He looked up as Premian approached, and the younger man had to mask his horror at the sight. Gargan’s left eye was gone, and blood flowed from the empty socket.
‘All finished,’ mumbled the general. ‘The savages have won.’ Premian knelt by him and took his hand, unable to think of anything to say. ‘They murdered my mother,’ said Gargan. ‘I was five years old. She hid me under some sacking. They raped and murdered her. And I watched. I . . . wanted to help her. Couldn’t. Just lay there and wet myself with fear. Then my son . . .’ Gargan drew a long shuddering breath. ‘Fetch me a sword.”
‘You don’t need a sword, my Lord. It is over.’
‘Over? You think it is over? It will never be over. Them or us, Premian. Now and for ever.’ Gargan sagged to his right. Premian caught him and lowered him to the ground. ‘I can hear horses,’ whispered the general. And he died.
Premian glanced up to see the line of cavalry moving towards him and he stood as they approached. A cavalry general rode up and glanced down at the dead Lord of Larness.
‘I had orders for his arrest and immediate execution,’ he said. ‘It is just as well he is gone. I had a great respect for him.’
‘Arrest? On what charge?’ Premian asked.
‘Who are you ?’ responded the general.
‘Premian, sir.’
‘Ah, good. I am also carrying orders for you. You are to take command of the Lancers and return to Gulgothir.’ Swinging in his saddle, he surveyed the chaos. ‘Your force will not be a large one, I fear. What happened here?’
Swiftly Premian told him. Then: ‘Does the attack continue, sir?’ he asked.
‘The sacking of a Shrine? Great Heavens, no! What an utter waste of good men. I can’t think what possessed Gargan to lead such a lunatic venture.’
‘I believe he was under orders, sir.’
‘All orders are changed now, Premian. We have a new Emperor. The madman is dead – killed by his own Guards. There is sanity once more in Gulgothir.’
‘Praise the Source for that,’ said Premian, with feeling.
Upon the walls of the Shrine Druss, Talisman and the defenders watched a rider move slowly from the devastated camp. He was wearing no armour, and his silver hair shone in the sunlight.
‘Shemak’s Balls, it’s Majon!’ said Sieben. ‘He rides that horse with all the grace of a carrot sack.’
‘Who is Majon?’ asked Talisman, his face grey with the pain of his wounds.
‘The Drenai ambassador. Best advise your men not to shoot at him.’ Talisman relayed the order as Majon rode closer; his long face was pinched and tight, and Druss could see the fear in the man.
‘Ho, Druss!’ called Majon. ‘I am unarmed. I come as a herald.’
‘No-one is going to hurt you, ambassador. We’ll lower a rope for you.’
‘I am quite comfortable here, thank you,’ he replied, his voice shaking.
‘Nonsense,’ Druss called out. ‘Our hospitality is well known, and my friends here would think themselves insulted if you didn’t join us.’
A rope was lowered and the ambassador dismounted. Removing his sky-blue cape, which he draped over his saddle, he took hold of the rope and was hauled to the ramparts. Once there Druss introduced him to Talisman. ‘He’s one of the kings among the Nadir,’ said Druss. ‘An important man.’
‘Delighted to meet you, sir,’ said Majon.
‘What words do you bring from the enemy?’ countered Talisman.
‘There are no enemies here, sir,’ Majon told him. ‘The . . . battle is over. The cavalry force you see before the walls was sent to arrest the renegade Gargan. The general, Cuskar, has asked me to assure you that all hostilities are now at an end, and that the Shrine will not be despoiled by any Gothir soldier. Equally, you and all your men are free to go. Your actions against the renegade Gargan will not be seen as crimes against the new Emperor.’
‘New Emperor?’ put in Druss.
‘Yes, indeed. The madman is dead – killed by two of his Guards. There is a new order now in Gulgothir. The scenes in the city were wonderful to behold, Druss. Dancing and singing in the streets, no less. The new Emperor’s government is being led by a minister of rare culture and breeding: his name is Garen-Tsen and it seems he has been working behind the scenes for some time in order to overthrow the God-King. A charming man, with a great understanding of diplomacy. Already we have signed three trade agreements.’