Talisman and Nosta Khan came alongside Druss. The riders beyond broke into a gallop and thundered across the plain with their lances held high. On each lance was a spitted head.
‘It is Lin-tse!’ shouted Talisman. The Nadir defenders began to cheer and shout as the thirty riders slowed to a canter and rode along the line of the wall, lifting their lances and showing their grisly trophies. One by one they thrust the lances into the ground, then rode through the newly opened gates. Lin-tse jumped from his pony and removed the Gothir helm. Warriors streamed from the walls to surround him and his Sky Riders.
Lin-tse began to chant in the Nadir tongue. He leapt and danced, to wild cheering from the warriors. On the battlements above Sieben watched in fascination, but could understand none of the words. He turned to Nosta Khan. ‘What is he saying?’
‘He is telling of the slaughter of the enemy, and how his men rode the sky to defeat them.’
‘Rode the sky? What does it mean?’
‘It means the first victory is ours,’ snapped the shaman. ‘Now be silent so I can listen.’
‘Irritating man,’ muttered Sieben, sitting back alongside Druss.
Lin-tse’s story took almost a quarter of an hour to complete, and at the close the warriors swept in around him, lifting him shoulder-high. Talisman sat quietly until the roar of noise died down. When Lin-tse was lowered to the ground, he walked to Talisman and gave a short bow. ‘Your orders were obeyed,’ he said. ‘Many Lancers are dead, and I have their armour.’
‘You did well, my brother.’
Talisman strode to the rampart steps and climbed them, swinging back to stare down at the gathered men.
‘They can be beaten,’ he said, still speaking Nadir. ‘They are not invincible. We have tasted their blood, and we will taste more. When they come to despoil the Shrine we will stop them. For we are Nadir, and our day is dawning. This is but the beginning. What we do here will become part of our legends. The story of your heroism will spread on the wings of fire to every Nadir tribe, every camp and village. It will bring the Day of the Uniter closer. And one day we will stand before the walls of Gulgothir, and the city itself will tremble before us.’ Slowly he raised his right arm, with fist clenched. ‘Nadir we!’ he shouted. The warriors followed him, and the chant was taken up.
‘Nadir we,
youth bom,
blood letters,
axe urielders,
victors still.’
‘Chills the blood, rather,’ observed Sieben.
Druss nodded. ‘He’s a clever man. He knows there are disasters to come, and he’s filling them with pride at the outset. They’ll fight like devils for him now.’
‘I didn’t know you could understand Nadir?’
‘I can’t . . . but you don’t need to be a linguist to understand what’s happening here. He sent out Lin-tse to blood the enemy. To give them a victory. To bond them together. He’s probably just told them they are all heroes, and that together they can withstand any force. Something like that.’
‘And can they?’
‘No way to judge, poet. Not until the first deaths. A fighting force is like a sword-blade. You can’t test it until it has passed through fire.’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ said Sieben irritably, ‘but apart from the war-like analogies, what is your feeling? You know men. I trust your judgement.’
‘I don’t know these men. Oh, they are ferocious, right enough. But they are not disciplined – and they are superstitious. They have no history of success to fall back upon, to lift them in the dark hours. They have never defeated the Gothir. Everything depends on the first day of battle. Ask me again if we survive that!’
‘Damn, but you are gloomy today, my friend,’ said Sieben. ‘What is it?’
‘This is not my war, poet. I have no feeling for it, you know? I fought alongside Oshikai. I know that it doesn’t matter a damn to him what happens to his bones. This is a battle over nothing, and nothing will be achieved by it, win or lose.’
‘I think you may be wrong there, old horse. All this talk of a Uniter is important to these people. You say they have no history of success to fall back upon – well, perhaps this will be the first for them.’ Sieben hoisted himself to the wall and sat looking at his friend. ‘But you know all this. There’s something more, isn’t there, Druss? Something deeper.’
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