Behind them the engines blazed and the duel was fought in the giant shadows cast by the flames.
The sabres clashed and sang time and again, with no wounds apparent on the warriors. First Dalnor feinted left and with a flick of the wrist scythed his blade to the right. This move Gellan blocked and countered with a stabbing thrust to the belly. Dalnor sidestepped, pushing the sword clear, then backhanded a cut to Gellan’s head. Gellan ducked.
Again the sabres crossed and this time Dalnor feinted high and plunged his blade through Gellan’s side above the right hip. The sabre landed through flesh and muscle and slid clear in a fraction of a second.
‘You see, Gellan?’ said Dalnor. ‘The gap is in your low defence – you are too tall.’
‘Thank you for pointing it out. I will work on it.’
Dalnor chuckled. ‘I like you, Gellan. I wish you were a Vagrian.’
Gellan was weary and lack of food had sapped his strength. He did not answer, but presented his blade once more and Dalnor’s eyebrows rose.
‘Another lesson?’ He stepped forward and the blades came together. For several seconds the duel was even, then Gellan made a clumsy block and Dalnor’s sword slid between his ribs. Instantly Gellan slammed his fist round the blade to trap it in his body, then his own sabre licked out, slicing across Dalnor’s jugular.
Dalnor fell back, gripping his throat.
Gellan fell forward, dropping his sabre.
‘I enjoyed the lesson, Vagrian,’ he said.
A Vagrian ran forward, cleaving his sword through Gellan’s neck. Dalnor raised a hand as if to stop him, but his lifeblood frothed and bubbled from his throat and he fell beside the dead Drenai swordsman.
Beyond the scene the ballistae burned, a black plume of smoke rising above the grey fortress and curling like a huge fist above the defenders.
Kaem surveyed the wreckage after dawn. Two engines were destroyed.
But one remained.
It would be enough, Kaem decided.
25
Karnak watched the flames rearing high above the ridge and scanned the broken ground beyond for sign of Gellan. He did not expect to see him, yet the hope remained.
In terms of the future – if there was to be a future – it was probably just as well that Gellan had died. He would never have made a good follower; he was too independent of mind to slavishly align himself to any leader. And yet Karnak knew he would miss him; he was the thorn in the rose which reminds a man the flesh is weak.
‘It looks like two fires,’ said Dundas, moving alongside the general.
‘Yet. Jonat says there are three ballistae.’
‘Still, two was a fine effort by a single man.’
‘One man can do anything if he sets his heart on it,’ said Karnak softly.
‘We lost three hundred men today, general.’
Karnak nodded. ‘Egel will be here soon.’
‘You cannot believe that.’
‘We will hold until he gets here, Dundas. We have no choice. Tell Jonat he must take Gellan’s place.’
‘Sarvaj is the senior man.’
‘I know who the senior man is. Put Jonat in charge.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Dundas walked away, but Karnak stopped him.
‘In peacetime I wouldn’t put Jonat in charge of stable clearance. But this is a game of death.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Karnak gazed from the gate tower ramparts, watching the men along the walls. Some were sitting and eating, others were spread out asleep; still more were sharpening sword-blades dulled by ceaseless combat.
Too few, he thought. He glanced back at the Keep.
Soon the hard decisions must be made.
On the wall below, Jonat sat with Sarvaj. For some while both men had watched for Gellan; now they knew he was either taken or slain.
‘He was a good man,’ said Sarvaj at last.
‘He was a fool,’ hissed Jonat. ‘He didn’t have to kill himself.’
‘No,’ agreed Sarvaj, ‘but I shall miss him.’
‘I won’t! I couldn’t care less how many officers die. I just wonder why I stay at this cursed fortress. I used to have a dream, an ambition if you like … Have you ever been up into the Skoda mountains?’