‘What nonsense is this?’
‘Nonsense, my dear general?’ What can you mean?’
‘Gan Degas agreed to surrender to me today after his conditions were met.’ Kaem licked his lips nervously as the huge warrior grinned down at him.
‘Ah, the conditions,’ he said. ‘I think there was a misunderstanding. When Gan Degas asked for safety for his men, he didn’t quite mean taking them in groups of twenty to the warehouse dock and killing them.’ The man’s eyes narrowed and the humour vanished from his smile. ‘I opened the gates to you, Kaem, so that you could see me. Know me … Understand me. There will be no surrender. I have brought with me three thousand men,’ lied Karnak, ‘and I command this fortress.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Karnak. Bear the name in mind, Vagrian, for it will be the death of you.’
‘You make loud noises, Karnak, but few men fear a yapping dog.’
True, but you fear me, little man,’ said Karnak equably. ‘Now – you have twenty seconds to clear your men from the gate. After that the air will be thick with arrows and death. Go!’
Kaem turned on his heel to find himself staring at several hundred warriors – the cream of his force -and the full humiliation struck him like a blow. He was inside the fortress with the gates open, yet he could not order the attack for every archer had his bow bent and the shaft aimed at himself. And to save himself – and save himself he must – he had to order them to withdraw. His stock would sink among the men and morale would be severely dented.
He swung back, his face purple with fury. ‘Enjoy your moment, Drenai! There will be few such highlights from now on.’
‘Fifteen seconds,’ said Karnak.
‘Back!’ shouted Kaem. ‘Back through the gates.’
The sound of mocking laughter followed the Vagrian general as he shouldered his way through his troops.
‘Close the gates,’ yelled Karnak, ‘and then get ready for the whoresons!’
Gellan moved alongside Karnak. ‘What did you mean about warehouses and killing?’
‘Dardalion told me that was the plan. Kaem had promised Degas that the men would be unharmed; it was a foul lie and exactly what you would expect from Kaem, but Degas was too weary to see it.’
‘Speaking of weariness,’ said Gellan, ‘having spent more than ten hours burrowing through rock below the dungeons, I am feeling a little weary myself.’
Karnak thumped him hard between the shoulder-blades. ‘Your men worked well, Gellan. The Gods only know what would have happened had we arrived an hour later. Still, it is good to know we are riding a lucky horse, eh?’
‘Lucky, general? We have burrowed our way into a besieged fortress and have angered the most powerful general on the continent. Tell me what’s lucky.’
Karnak chuckled. ‘He was the most powerful general on the continent, but he suffered today. He was humiliated. That won’t help him; it will open a little tear in his cloak of invincibility.’
Jonat stalked the wall shouting at the fifty men under his command. They had been disgraced that morning, breaking in panic as the Vagrians cleared the wall beside the gate tower. With ten swordsmen, Jonat had rushed in to plug the gap and by some miracle the rangy, black-bearded Legion rider had escaped injury though six of his comrades had died beside him. Karnak had seen the danger and run to Jonat’s aid, swinging a huge double-headed battle-axe, followed by a hundred fighting men. The battle by the gate tower was brief and bloody, and by the end of it the men of Jonat’s section had returned to the fighting.
Now, with dusk upon them and the sun sinking in fire, Jonat lashed them with his tongue. Beyond his anger the tall warrior knew the cause of their panic, even understood it. Half the men were Legion warriors, half were conscripted farmers and merchants. The warriors did not trust the farmers to stand firm, while the farmers felt out of their depth and lost within the mad hell of slashing swords and frenzied screams.
What was worse, it had been the warriors who had broken.