And the carnage began.
Three assaults were turned back before the Nadir gained a foothold on the battlements. And this was short-lived. Some two-score tribesmen breached the defence, only to find themselves faced with a madman in bronze and two silver ghosts who strode among them dealing death. There was no defence against these men, and the bronze devil's sword could cut through any shield or armour; men died under that terrible blade screaming as if their souls were ablaze. That night the Nadir captains carried their reports to the tent of Ulric and the talk was all of the new force upon the battlements. Even the legendary Druss seemed more human — laughing as he did in the face of Nadir swords — than this golden machine of destruction.
"We felt like dogs being beaten from his path with a stick," muttered one man. "Or weaponless children being thrust aside by an elder."
Ulric was troubled and, though he lifted their spirits at last by pointing out again and again that it was merely a man in bronze armour, after the captains had left he summoned the ancient shaman, Nosta Khan, to his tent. Squatting before a blazing brazier of coals the old man listened to his warlord, nodding the while. At last he bowed and closed his eyes.
Rek was asleep, exhausted by battle and sorrow. The nightmare came slowly, enveloping him like black smoke. His dream eyes opened and before him was a cave mouth, black and terrible. Fear emanated from it like a tangible force. Behind him was a pit, stretching down into the fiery bowels of the earth, from which came strange sounds, whimpers and screams. In his hand was no sword, upon his body no armour. A slithering sound came from the pit and Rek turned to see oozing up from it a gigantic worm, slime-covered and putrescent. The stench made him reel back. The mouth of the worm was huge and could swallow a man with ease; around it were triple rows of pointed fangs and lodged between one set was the arm of a man, bloody and broken. Rek backed towards the cave mouth, but a hissing made him spin round. From the blackness of the cave came a spider, its giant maw dripping poison. Within its mouth was a face, green and shimmering and from the mouth of the face flowed words of power. As each word sounded Rek grew weaker, until he could hardly stand.
"Are you just going to stand there all day?" said a voice.
Rek turned to see Virae. By his side, dressed in a flowing gown of white. She smiled at him.
"You're back!" he said, reaching out for her.
"No time for that, you fool! Here! Take your sword." Her arms reached towards him and the bronze sword of Egel appeared in her hands. A shadow fell across them as Rek snatched the sword, spinning round to face the worm which was towering above them. The blade swept through three feet of the creature's neck as the mouth descended and green gore spouted from the wound. Rek struck again and again until the creature, almost cut in two, flopped backwards into the pit.
"The spider!" yelled Virae and he spun once more. The beast was upon him, its huge mouth mere paces away. Rek hurled his sword into the gaping maw and it flew like an arrow to split the green face within like a melon. The spider reared into the air and toppled backwards. A breeze blew up, and the beast became black smoke which drifted into the air and then was gone.
"I suppose you would have gone on standing there if I hadn't come along?" said Virae.
"I think so," answered Rek.
"You fool," she said, smiling and he moved forward tentatively, holding out his arms.
"Can I touch you?" he asked.
"An odd request for a husband to make."
"You won't disappear?"
Her smile faded. "Not yet, my love."
His arms crushed her to him, tears spilling from his eyes. "I thought you were gone for ever. I thought I would never see you again."
For a while they said nothing, but merely stood together embracing. Finally she gently pushed him away. "You must go back," she said.
"Back?"
"To Delnoch. You are needed there."
"I need you more than I need Delnoch. Can we not stay here? Together?"
"No. There is no "here". It doesn't exist. Only you and I are real. Now you must return."
"I will see you again, won't I?"
"I love you, Rek. I will always love you."
He awoke with a start, eyes focusing on the stars outside his window. Her face could still be seen, fading against the midnight sky. "Virae!" he shouted. "Virae!" The door opened and Serbitar ran to the bedside.
"Rek, you're dreaming. Wake up!"
"I am awake. I saw her. She came to me in a dream and rescued me."
"All right, but she's gone now. Look at me." Rek gazed into Serbitar's green eyes. He saw concern there, but this soon faded and the albino smiled.
"You are all right," said Serbitar. "Tell me of the dream."
Afterwards Serbitar questioned him about the face. He wanted every detail that could be remembered. Finally he smiled.
"I think you were the victim of Nosta Khan," he said. "But you held him off — a rare feat, Rek."
"Virae came to me. It was not a dream?"
"I think not. The Source released her for a time."
"I would like to believe that, I truly would."
"I think you should. Have you looked for your sword?"
Rek swung out of the bed and padded over to the table where his armour lay. The sword was gone.
"How?" whispered Rek. Serbitar shrugged.
"It will return. Never fear!"
Serbitar lit the candles and stoked the fire to life in the hearth. As he finished a gentle tapping came at the door.
"Come in," called Rek.
A young officer entered, bearing the sword of Egel.
"I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but I saw the light. One of the sentries found your sword upon the Kania battlements, so I brought it here. I wiped the blood from it first, sir."
"Blood?"
"Yes, sir. It was covered in blood. Strange how wet it still was."
"Thank you again." Rek turned to Serbitar. "I don't understand."
In the tent of Ulric the candles flickered. The warlord sat transfixed, staring at the headless body on the floor before him. The sight was one which would haunt him for the rest of his days. One moment the shaman had been sitting in trance before the coals, the next a red line had been drawn across his neck and his head toppled into the fire.
Finally Ulric called his guards to remove the corpse, having first wiped his own sword blade across the bloody neck.
"He angered me," he told the guards.
The Nadir chieftain left his tent and walked out under the stars. First the legendary axeman, then the warriors in silver. Now a bronze devil whose magic was greater than Nosta Khan. Why did he feel this chill in his soul? Dros was just another fortress. Had he not conquered a hundred such? Once past the gates of Delnoch, the Drenai empire was his. How could they hold against him? The answer was simple — they could not! One man — or devil — in bronze could not stem the Nadir tribes.
But what new surprises does this Dros hold? He asked himself.
He glanced up at the towering walls of Kania.
"You will fall!" he shouted. His voice echoed through the valley. "I shall bring you down!"
In the ghostly light of the pre-dawn, Gilad made his way from the mess canteen with a bowl of hot broth and a chunk of crusty black bread. Slowly he threaded his way through the ranks of men lining the walls until he came to his own position above the blocked postern tunnel. Togi was already there, sitting hunched and round-shouldered with his back to the wall. He nodded as Gilad squatted beside him, then spat on the whetstone in his calloused hand and continued to sharpen his long cavalry sabre.