The bedchamber door opened and Evris came out, wiping his hands on a linen towel. Gellan surged to his feet, but the surgeon lifted his hands and said quietly, ‘It’s all right. He is resting.’
‘What of his injuries?’ asked Gellan.
‘As far as I can tell, he has lost the sight of his left eye. But nothing more. Heavy bruising, maybe a cracked rib or two. He is passing no blood. His bulk saved him.’
Evris left the room to tend the other wounded and Dundas sank into a chair by an oval writing table.
‘One bright ray of hope,’ he said. ‘Now if Egel were to arrive tomorrow with fifty thousand men, I would believe in miracles.’
‘One miracle at a time suits me,’ said Gellan. ‘But we must make a decision – the wall cannot hold.’
‘You think we should pull back?’ asked Dundas.
‘I think we must.’
‘But the wounded …’
‘I know.’
Dundas swore bitterly, then chuckled without humour. ‘You know, I always wanted to be a general – a First Gan with a cavalry wing under my command. You know why? So that I could have a white horse and a red velvet cloak. Gods, I think I know how poor Degas felt!’
Gellan leaned back and closed his eyes. Dardalion watched the two men for a moment, then spoke.’-Wait for Karnak – let him make the decision,’ he advised softly.
Gellan’s eyes snapped open. ‘Wouldn’t that be easy? Hard decisions to make, so load them on the broadest shoulders. We are running short on arrows – if they’re not flown already. There is no meat, the bread is maggoty, the cheese green with mould. The men are exhausted and some of them are fighting in a trance.’
‘It is almost as hard for the Vagrians, Gellan,’ said Dardalion. ‘They may have the strength, but they are running short of food and disease is in their camp. They may have stopped Ironlatch in the south, but at great cost. They are stretched thin, and only two months from winter.’
‘We do not have two months,’ said Dundas. ‘Once they take Purdol, they can sweep along the Delnoch range and down through Skoda to circle Ironlatch. Winter won’t mean a damn then.’
‘I have walked these walls,’ said Dardalion, ‘but not in the way you have. You see men at war. But I have walked the walls in spirit and I have felt the strength there. Do not be too sure of failure.’
‘As you said, Dardalion,’ snapped Gellan, ‘you have not walked the walls as we have.’
‘Forgive me, Gellan, I did not mean to be condescending.’
Gellan shook his head. ‘Do not mind me, young priest. I know my men. They are stronger even than they believe and they have already performed miracles. No one could have expected them to last this long. I just wonder how much longer they can stand.’
‘I agree with Gellan,’ said Dundas. ‘The decision is one we may rue for the rest of our lives, but it must be made. We must pull back.’
‘You are the military men,’ agreed Dardalion, ‘and I am not trying to sway you. But the men are righting like demons and there is no give in them. This morning, I am told, a man with his arm hacked off killed three Vagrians before pitching from the battlements. And when he fell, he dragged another enemy soldier with him. That does not sound like the attitude of defeat.’
‘I saw that from the gate tower,’ said Dundas. ‘The man was a farmer, I spoke to him once – he’d lost his entire family to mercenaries.’
‘One man doesn’t alter the situation,’ said Gellan. ‘What we are asking of the men is inhuman and sooner or later they must crack.’
The door to the bedchamber swung open and the three men turned to see Karnak looming in the doorway, one huge hand steadying himself on the wooden frame.
‘They won’t crack, Gellan,’ he said. Blood was seeping through the bandage over his eye and his face was ashen, but the power of the man dominated the scene.
‘You should be resting, general,’ said Dardalion.