He opened the door and stepped into the lavishly furnished interior. A trestle bar had been set up against the far wall, stretching out into the centre of the room. Druss pushed his way past the revellers, ignoring the complaints, then placed one hand beneath the trestle and hurled it into the air, scattering bottles, goblets, and food to shower on the officers. Stunned silence was followed by an angry surge of oaths and curses. One young officer pushed his way to the front of the crowd; dark-haired, sullen-eyed and haughty, he confronted the white-bearded warrior.
"Who the hell do you think you are, old man?" he said.
Druss ignored him, his eyes scanning the thirty or so men in the room. A hand grabbed his jerkin.
"I said who…" Druss backhanded the man across the room to crash into the wall and slither to the floor, half-stunned.
"I am Druss. Sometimes called Captain of the Axe. In Ventria they call me Druss the Sender. In Vagria I am merely the Axeman. To the Nadir I am Death-walker. In Lentria I am the Silver Slayer.
"But who are you? You dung eating lumps of offal! Who the hell are you?" The old man drew Snaga from her sheath at his side. "I have a mind to set an example today. I have a mind to cut the fat from this ill-fated fortress. Where is Dun Pinar?"
The young man pushed himself from the back of the crowd, a half-smile on his face, a cool look in his dark eyes. "I am here, Druss."
"Gan Orrin has appointed me to take charge of the training and preparation of the defences. I want a meeting with all officers on the training ground in an hour. Pinar, you organise it. The rest of you, clear up this mess and get yourselves ready. The holiday is over. Any man who fails me will curse the day he was born." Beckoning Pinar to follow him, he walked outside. "Find Hogun," he said, "and bring him to me at once in the main hall of the Keep."
"Yes, sir! And sir…"
"Out with it, lad."
"Welcome to Dros Delnoch."
The news flashed through the town of Delnoch like a summer storm, from tavern to shop, to market stall. Druss was here! Women passed the message to their men, children chanted his name in the alleys. Tales of his exploits were retold, growing by the minute. A large crowd gathered before the barracks, watching the officers milling at the parade ground. Children were lifted high, perched on men's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the greatest Drenai hero of all time.
When he appeared, a huge roar went up from the crowd and the old man paused and waved.
They couldn't hear what he told the officers, but the men moved with a purpose as he dismissed them. Then, with a final wave he returned to the Keep.
Within the main hall once more, Druss removed his jerkin and relaxed in a high-backed chair. His knee was throbbing and his back ached like the devil. And still Hogun had not appeared.
He ordered a servant to prepare him a meal and enquired after the Earl. The servant told him the Earl was sleeping peacefully. He returned with a huge steak, lightly done, which Druss wolfed down, following it with a bottle of finest Lentrian Red. He wiped the grease from his beard and rubbed his knee. After seeing Hogun, he would have a hot bath, ready for tomorrow. He knew his first day would tax him to his limits — and he mustn't fail.
"Gan Hogun, sir," announced the servant. "And Dun Elicas."
The two men who entered lifted Druss's heart. The first — it had to be Hogun — was broad-shouldered and tall, clear-eyed, with a square jaw.
And Elicas, though slimmer and shorter, had the look of eagles about him. Both men wore the black and silver of The Legion, without badges of rank. It was a long-standing custom, going back to the days when the Earl of Bronze had formed them for the Vagrian Wars.
"Be seated, gentlemen," said Druss.
Hogun pulled up a chair, reversing it in order to lean on the back. Elicas perched himself on the edge of the table, arms folded across his chest.
Elicas watched the two men carefully. He had not known what to expect from Druss, but he had begged Hogun to allow him to be present at the meeting. He worshipped Hogun, but the grim old man seated before him had always been his idol.
"Welcome to Delnoch, Druss," said Hogun. "You have lifted morale already. The men speak of nothing else. I am sorry to have missed you earlier, but I was at the first wall supervising an archery tourney."
"I understand you have already met the Nadir?" said Druss.
"Yes. They will be here in less than a month."
"We shall be ready. But it will need hard work. The men are badly trained — if trained at all. That must change. We have only ten surgeons, no medical orderlies, no stretcher-bearers and only one hospital — and that is at Wall One, which is no good to us. Comments?"
"An accurate appraisal. All I can add is that — apart from my men — there are only a dozen officers of worth."
"I have not yet decided the worth of any man here. But let us stay positive for the moment. I need a man of mathematical persuasion to take charge of the food stores and to prepare ration rotas. He will need to shift his equations to match our losses. He must also be responsible for liaison and administration with Gan Orrin." Druss watched as the two men exchanged glances, but said nothing of it.
"Dun Pinar is your man," said Hogun. "He virtually runs the Dros now."
Druss's eyes were cold as he leaned towards the young general. "There will be no more comments like that, Hogun. It does not become a professional soldier. We start today with a clean slate. Yesterday is gone. I shall make my own judgements and I do not expect my officers to make sly comments about each other."
"I would have thought you would want the truth," interposed Elicas, before Hogun could answer.
"The truth is a strange animal, laddie. It seems to vary from man to man. Now keep silent. Understand me, Hogun, I value you. Your record is a good one. But from now on, no one speaks ill of the First Gan. It is not good for morale, and what is not good for our morale is good for the Nadir. We have enough problems." Druss stretched out a length of parchment and pushed it to Elicas with a quill and ink. "Make yourself useful, boy, and take notes. Put Pinar at the top, he is our quartermaster. Now, we will need fifty medical orderlies and two hundred stretcher-bearers. The first Calvar Syn can choose from volunteers, but the bearers will need someone to train them. I want them to be able to run all day. Missael knows they will need to when the action gets warm. These men will need stout hearts. It is no easy thing to run about on a battlefield lightly armed. For they will not be able to carry swords and stretchers.
"So who do you suggest to pick and train them?"
Hogun turned to Elicas, who shrugged.
"You must be able to suggest someone," said Druss.
"I don't know the men of Dros Delnoch that well, sir," said Hogun, "and no one from the Legion would be appropriate."
"Why not?"
"They are warriors. We shall need them on the wall."
"Who is your best ranker?"
"Bar Britan. But he's a formidable warrior, sir."
"That is why he is the man. Listen welclass="underline" the stretcher-bearers will be armed with daggers only, and they will risk their lives as much as the men battling on the walls. But it is not a glorious task, so the importance of it must be highlighted. When you name your best ranker as the man to train the bearers and work with them during the battle, this will come home to them. Bar Britan must also be given fifty men of his choice as a moving troop to protect the bearers as best he can."
"I bow to your logic, Druss," said Hogun.
"Bow to nothing, son. I make mistakes as well as any man. If you think me wrong, be so good as to damn well say so."