Karnak saw the Vagrians buried screaming under tons of rock and earth. Then he turned and began to run.
Rocks and boulders tumbled about him as he ran on into the dark, then he tripped and fell and something sharp and heavy hit his ribs. He rolled and coughed as swirling dust caught in his throat. It seemed alien and stupid to run into darkness and death, but still he forced himself on. The rock above him exploded and he was swept from his feet, his legs partially buried by rubble. Pulling himself clear, he staggered on until the ground tilted under him and he fell forward.
‘Gellan!’ he screamed, as the walls closed in and engulfed him. A rock struck his head … more covered his legs and waist. He threw his arms over his face and tried to move. Then something slammed into his forehead and his movements ceased.
For more than a full day and night Gellan had men toiling at the rocks, moving forward inch by dangerous inch, while outside on the walls the battle raged endlessly. Many of the officers were now dead and Gellan had promoted Sarvaj and Jonat to commands of 500 men apiece. The number of wounded had swelled to awesome proportions, and now fewer than 2,000 fighting men held the might of the Vagrian army at bay. But Gellan himself remained in the treacherous tunnel, angrily shaking off the protest from brother officers.
‘He’s dead – what is the point?’ argued one.
‘We need him,’ said Gellan.
‘The roof has gone, man! Every foot we move forward only increases the risk of a further fall. It’s madness!’
But he ignored them, refusing to allow their arguments to lodge in his mind where he knew he would be forced to accept their logic. It was a kind of madness, he knew. But he would not stop. Nor would the men. They worked tirelessly, pushing their frail bodies into the blackness, ton upon ton of delicately balanced rock above and around them.
‘How the hell will you find him? The men originally with him say he ran ahead. It would take years to dig your way through to the far side – and the ropes were a hundred paces from the first corner.’
‘Get out and leave us alone.’
‘You are insane, Gellan.’
‘Leave or I’ll kill you.’
By the second day even the most tireless of the workers had given up hope, but still they toiled on.
‘We need you on the walls, Gellan. Despair is growing.’
This time the words got through, lodging where Gellan had no defence.
‘One more hour,’ he said, hope draining from him. I’ll be there with you in one hour.’
The pain from his eye woke Karnak and he tried to move, panic welling in him as realisation struck home that he was trapped … buried alive. Madness surged in him and he struggled maniacally, stopping only when he felt the rocks move above him. He breathed slowly and deeply, fighting for calm.
‘Why are you not dressed for dinner, Karnak?’
‘A mountain fell on me, father.’
Manic laughter bubbled from his throat, but he fought it down and began to weep.
Stop it! You are Karnak, his strength told him.
I am a piece of flesh trapped in a tomb of rock, his weakness screamed.
All his plans were finished now and perhaps it was just as well, he thought. In his arrogance he had believed he could defeat the Vagrians, push them from the lands of the Drenai. His new-found heroic status would have guaranteed him leadership of the people. Egel could never have stood against him. Egel had no way with the mob – no charisma. And there were other ways to dispose of political enemies.
Waylander, and men like him, were easy to find.
But now there would be nothing. No purple robes. No public acclaim.
Why, he wondered, had he taken on the enemy single-handed?
Because he had not stopped to think. Dundas had seen through him: a hero who pretended to be otherwise.
Not exactly the death you would have chosen for yourself, Karnak, said his strength. Where was the drama? Where were the adoring crowds?