‘He is terrifying,’ said Lin-tse. ‘Never have I seen the like.’
Talisman did not reply. The Lone Wolves were fighting like demons, inspired by the ferocious skills of the black-garbed axeman. On the other walls Nadir warriors watched in awed admiration.
‘They are coming for the gates!’ shouted Gorkai. ‘They have fire buckets and axes.’
Talisman lifted his arm to show that he had heard, but made no move. More than a dozen of the defenders on the western wall were wounded. Five fought on, several others struggled down the steps, making their way to the hospital.
‘Now!’ he told Lin-tse.
The tall Sky Rider leapt forward, sprinting up the steps.
Axes thudded into the gate and Talisman saw Gorkai and the men of the Fleet Ponies hurling rocks over the battlements. Smoke seeped through the ancient wood. But, as Druss had suggested, they had soaked the gates every day and the fires quickly died away.
Talisman signalled to Gorkai to send back ten men to stand with him.
The battle raged on. Druss, covered in blood, stormed along the ramparts, leaping down to the fighting platform and scattering the Gothir warriors who had forced a way over the battlements. Talisman committed his ten men to help, then drew his sword and followed them in. He knew Druss was right about the crushing blow there would be to morale if he died. Equally, his men had to see him fight.
Climbing to the platform, he swept his sabre through the throat of a charging Gothir soldier. Two more ran at him. Druss smashed his axe through the shoulder of the first; then the old man, Nuang Xuan, gutted the second.
The Gothir fell back, taking their ladders with them.
A great cry went up from the Nadir. They jeered and waved their swords over their heads.
Talisman called Lin-tse to him. ‘Get a count of the injured, and have the more seriously wounded men carried to the hospital.’
The Lone Wolves gathered around Druss, clapping him on the back and complimenting him. In their excitement they were speaking Nadir, and Druss understood not a word of it. He turned to the stocky Chisk. ‘Well, laddie,’ he said. ‘How many did you kill?’
‘I don’t know. But it was many.’
‘Did you beat this old man, do you think?’ asked Druss, throwing his arm around Nuang’s shoulder.
‘I don’t care,’ shouted Chisk happily. ‘I kiss his cheek!’ Dropping his sword, he took the surprised Nuang by the shoulders and hugged him. ‘We showed them how Nadir fight, eh? We whipped the gajin dogs.’
Nuang grinned, took a step, then fell to the ground with a surprised look on his face. Chisk knelt down beside him, dragging open the old man’s jerkin. Three wounds had pierced Nuang’s flesh and blood was flowing freely.
‘Hold fast, brother,’ said Chisk. ‘The wounds are not bad. We get you to the surgeon, though, hey?’ Two Lone Wolves helped Chisk to carry Nuang across to the hospital.
Druss strode from the wall to the well, drawing up a bucket of clear, cool water. Pulling an old cloth from his belt, he sponged the blood from his face and jerkin, then emptied the bucket over his head.
From the battlements came the sound of laughter. ‘You could do with a bath too, you whoresons!’ he shouted. Dropping the bucket back into the well, he drew it forth again, then drank deeply. Talisman joined him. ‘We killed or wounded seventy,’ said the Nadir leader. ‘For the loss of nine dead and fifteen wounded. What next, do you think?’
‘The same again, but with fresh troops,’ said Druss. ‘And before dark too. My guess is there will be at least two more attacks today.’
‘I agree with you. And we will hold – I know that now.’
Druss chuckled. ‘They’re a fine bunch of fighters. Tomorrow it will be the gates – a concerted attack.’
‘Why not tonight?’
‘They haven’t learned their lesson yet,’ said Druss.
Talisman smiled. ‘You are a good teacher, axeman. I am sure they will learn before the day is over.’
Druss took another long drink, then pointed to a group of men working at the base of the old tower. They were separating blocks of granite and hauling them clear of the rubble. ‘What is the purpose of that?’ asked the axeman.
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