Waylander by David A. Gemmell

The Dark Brotherhood are hunting you?’ asked Dardalion.

‘They have been for months. And added to that, it is said that Waylander the Slayer has been hired to kill me.’

‘That is most unlikely,’ said Dardalion.

‘Really? You are a prophet also?’

‘No … yes … it is not Waylander’s way.’

‘You know him?’ asked Karnak.

‘Yes, he knows him,’ said Waylander, moving into sight on the stairway with his crossbow in hand.

Karnak turned slowly and Gellan moved in front of him.

‘I am Waylander, and if I wanted you dead you would be dead. So now all you have to worry about is the Brotherhood.’

‘You think I should believe you?’

‘It would be a wise move in the circumstances.’

‘I have four hundred men within call.’

‘But they are not here now, general.’

‘That is true,’ Karnak agreed. ‘So you are not here to kill me?’

‘No. I have other business.’

‘Does it affect the Drenai cause?’

‘And if it does?’ asked Waylander.

“Then I will walk over to you and break your neck,’ said Karnak.

‘Luckily it should help your cause,’ said Waylander. ‘I have been asked to supply Egel with a new suit of Armour!’

They rode warily, a dozen scouts ringing the main party and the warrior general at the centre of the force shielded by six riders. Dardalion rode on his left and Gellan on the right. Behind them came the wagons, each pulled by six oxen.

Danyal and the children rode in the lead wagon alongside the warrior Vanek. She found him to be an amusing companion. At one point, as the two lead oxen pulled in opposite directions, Vanek said, straight faced: ‘Highly trained these animals – obey my every command. I’m making them do this.’

Behind the wagons rode the rearguard of a hundred men led by Dundas, Karnak’s aide: a young man with fair hair and a friendly open face. Beside him rode Waylander, in no doubt that he was a virtual prisoner; four riders sat their mounts close to him, hands on sword-hilts.

Waylander hid his annoyance and allowed his mind to wander as his eyes soaked in the green beauty of the Sentran Plain where it merged with the grey-blue mountains of the north. After all, what did it matter if they killed him? Had he not murdered their king? And what was so special about life that he should desire to extend his span?

None of it mattered, he realised, as the mountains loomed ever more close. How much death had these peaks seen? Who would care about this petty war in a thousand years?

‘You are an undemanding companion/ remarked Dundas, lifting his helm and running his fingers through his hair.

Waylander did not reply. Swinging his horse’s head to the left, he made to canter forward but his way was blocked by a rider.

‘The general thinks we should hold formation while in dangerous territory,’ said Dundas smoothly. ‘You don’t object?’

‘And if I do?’

‘It will not be for long, I assure you.’

As the day wore on, Dundas tired of attempting conversation with the dark-haired warrior. He didn’t know why Karnak wanted him guarded and, in truth, he didn’t care. But then that was Karnak’s way – to explain only what was necessary and expect his orders to be carried out to the letter. At times it made him an extraordinarily aggravating man to serve under.

‘What is he like?’ asked Waylander suddenly.

‘I am sorry, my mind was wandering,’ said Dundas. ‘What did you say?’

‘The general – what is he like?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Curiosity. I understand he was a First Dun officer in charge of a hill fort. Now he is a general.’

‘You have not heard of Margate and the siege?’

‘No.’

‘I should really let the general tell it. There are so many wonderful embellishments to the tale now that it would not surprise me to hear that dragons have been introduced. But still … would you like to hear it?’

‘Were you there?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I prefer first-hand accounts.’

‘Well, as you say, Karnak was First Dun at Margate. The fort is not large – probably twice the size of Masin, and there is … was … a small town outside the keep. Karnak had six hundred men under his command. The Vagrians poured into Skoda and surrounded Margate, demanding our surrender. We refused and held off their attacks for the first day, then watched as they made their night camp. We had lost sixty men during the day, but we were holding well and the Vagrians believed they had us all in their net.’