‘No, not the dream. I just … I was just stupid, as you say.’
‘The man who never made a mistake never made anything,’ he said.
‘I’m not a man!’
‘I’d noticed. But I’m sure it holds true for women. Two of the men were bleeding, so I’d guess you caused them some pain before they downed you. Well done, Miriel.’
That’s the first time you’ve praised me. Be careful. It might go to my head.’
He patted her hand. ‘I can be a mean whoreson, I know that. But you’re a fine girl – tough, strong, willing. I don’t want to see your spirit broken – but I don’t want to see your body broken, either. And I know only one way to teach. I’m not even sure I know that very well.’
She tried to smile, but the pain was growing and she felt herself slipping into sleep.
Thank you,’ she managed to say. “Thank you for being there.’
*
From his high study window Dardalion saw the troop of lancers slowly climbing the winding path, twenty-five men in silver armour, cloaked in crimson, riding jet-black horses, their flanks armoured in chain-mail. At their head rode a man Dardalion knew well. Against the sleek, martial perfection of his men Karnak should have looked comical; overweight and dressed in clothes of clashing colours – red cloak, orange shirt, green trews tied with blue leggings and below them black riding boots, edged with a silver trim. But no one laughed at his eccentric dress. For this was the hero of Dros Purdol, the saviour of the Drenai.
Karnak the One-eyed.
The man’s physical strength was legendary, but it paled against the colossal power of his personality. With one speech he could turn a motley group of farmers into sword-wielding heroes who would defy an army. Dardalion’s smile faded. Aye, and they would die for him, had died for him – in their thousands. They would go on dying for him.
Vishna entered the study, his spirit voice whispering into Dardalion’s mind, ‘Will their arrival delay the Debate, Father?’
‘No.’
‘Was it wise to instruct Ekodas to argue the cause of right?’
‘Is it the cause of right?’ countered Dardalion, speaking aloud and swinging to face the dark-bearded Gothir nobleman.
‘You have always taught me so.’
‘We shall see, my boy. Now go down and escort the Lord Karnak to me. And see that his men are fed, the horses groomed. They have ridden far.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Dardalion returned to the window, but he did not see the distant mountains, nor the storm clouds looming in the north. He saw again the cabin on the mountainside, the two frightened children, and the two men who had come to kill them. And he felt the weight of the weapon of death in his hands. He sighed. The cause of right? Only the Source knew.
He heard the sound of booming laughter from the winding stairs beyond his room, and felt the immense physical presence of Karnak even before the man crossed the threshold.
‘Gods, but it is good to see you, old lad!’ boomed Karnak, striding across the room and clasping a huge hand to Dardalion’s shoulder. The man’s smile was wide and genuine, and Dardalion returned it.
‘And you, my lord. I see your dress sense is as colourful as ever.’
‘Like it? The cloak is from Mashrapur, the shirt from a little weavery in Drenan.’
‘They suit you well.’
‘By Heaven you are a terrible liar, Dardalion. I expect your soul will burn in Hellfire. Now sit you down and let us talk of more important matters.’ The Drenai leader moved round the desk to take Dardalion’s chair, leaving the slender Abbot to sit opposite him. Karnak unbuckled his sword-belt, laying it on the floor beside him, then eased his great bulk into the seat. ‘Damned uncomfortable furniture,’ he said. ‘Now, where were we? Ah, yes! What can you tell me about the Ventrians?’
‘They will sail within the week, landing at Purdol, Erekban and the Earis estuary,’ answered Dardalion.
‘How many ships?’
‘More than four hundred.’
‘That many, eh? I don’t suppose you’d consider whipping up a storm to sink the bastards?’