The King Beyond the Gate

Scaler dressed swiftly, buckling on his sword-belt and taking his blade in his hand. Moving to the window, he leaned out. A rope swung in the night breeze and Scaler took hold of it, leaping from the window and sliding hand-over-hand to the courtyard below.

Four guards watched him in silence as he landed lightly on the marble flagstones. He walked out into the centre of the courtyard and stared up at the windows of the prince's chamber.

'Prince of cowards, come forth!' he shouted. 'Prince of lies and deceit, show yourself. Joachim said you were a sheep. Come out!'

The sentries exchanged glances but did not move.

'I am alive, prince. The Earl of Bronze is alive! All your assassins are dead and you are about to join them. Come out — or I will shrivel your soul where you hide. Come out!'

The curtains of the window moved and there stood the prince, his face flushed and angry. He leaned on the carved stone sill and shouted to the sentries.

'Kill him!'

'Come and do it yourself, you jackal!' yelled Scaler. 'Joachim called me his friend and so I am. In your own temple you heard him, yet you send assassins to my room. You spineless pig! You defile your ancestor and break your own laws of hospitality. Offal! Get down here!'

'You heard me — kill him!' screamed the prince. The sentries moved forward, lances levelled.

Scaler lowered his sword, his bright blue eyes fixed on the leading warrior.

'I will not fight you,' he said. 'But what will you have me tell Joachim when next I meet him? And what will you tell him when you walk the road to Sheol?' The man hesitated as behind Scaler Pagan ran across the courtyard, two swords in his hands. Magir was beside him.

The sentries braced themselves for the charge.

'Leave him be!' yelled Magir. 'He is the Earl and his challenge is laid down.'

'Come down, prince of cowards,' shouted Scaler. 'Your time is come!'

The prince clambered over the sill and leapt the ten feet to the flagstones, his white robes flaring out in the breeze. Walking to a sentry he took the man's tulwar, testing it for balance.

'Now you will die,' said the prince. 'I know you are a liar. You are not the long-dead Earl — you are a deceiver.'

'Prove it!' snapped Scaler. 'Step forward. I am the greatest swordsman ever to walk the earth. I turned back the hordes of the Nadir. I broke the blade of Joachim Sathuli. Step forward and die!'

The prince licked his lips and stared into the blazing eyes. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and in that moment he knew he was doomed. Life was suddenly very precious and he was far too important a man to allow some demon from the deep to trick him into combat. His hand began to shake.

He felt the stares of his men upon him and glanced up to see the courtyard ringed with Sathuli warriors. And yet he was alone; not one of them would come to his aid. He had to attack, but to do so meant death. With a wild scream he threw himself forward, tulwar raised. Scaler buried his sword in the prince's heart, then dragged it clear and the body sagged to the flagstones.

Magir stepped to Scaler's side. 'Now you must leave. They will allow you to pass from the mountains, then they will follow to avenge this killing.'

'That's of no importance to me,' said Scaler. 'I came here to win them. Without them we are lost anyway.'

'You have the Cheiam, my friend. We will follow you back into Hell itself.'

Scaler looked down at the dead prince. 'He didn't even try to fight — he just ran forward to die.'

'He was a dog and the son of a dog. I spit on him!' said Magir. 'He was not worthy of you, Lord Earl, though he was the greatest swordsman in all of Sathuli.'

'He was?' said Scaler, astonished.

'He was. But he knew you were a greater man and the knowledge destroyed him before your sword could do so.'

'The man was a fool. If he only. .'

'Rek,' said Pagan, 'it is time to leave. I will fetch the horses.'

'No. I want to see Belder buried before we leave this place.'

'My men will see to it,' said Magir. 'But your friend speaks wisely and I will have horses brought to the courtyard. It is only an hour to our camp, where we can rest and speak of your plans.'

'Magir!'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'I thank you.'

'It was my duty, Lord Earl. I thought I would hate this duty, for the Cheiam bear no love for Drenai warriors. But you are a man.'

Tell me, what are the Cheiam?'

'We are the Drinkers of Blood, the sons of Joachim. We worship only one god: Shalli, the spirit of Death.'

'How many of you are there?'

'One hundred only, Lord Earl. But judge us not by our number. Rather, watch the numbers of dead we leave behind us.'

17

The man was buried up to his neck, the dry earth packed tightly around him. Ants crawled on his face and the sun beat down on his shaven head. He heard the sound of approaching horses, but could not turn.

'A pox on you and all your family!' he shouted.

Then he heard someone dismount and a merciful shadow fell across him. Glancing up, he saw standing before him a tall figure in black leather tunic and riding boots; he could not see his face. A woman led the horses round to the front and the man squatted down.

'We are seeking the tents of the Wolves,' he said.

The buried man spat an ant from his mouth. 'Good for you!' he said. 'Why tell me? You think I have been left here as a signpost?'

'I was contemplating digging you out.'

'I shouldn't bother. The hills behind you are full of Pack-rats. They would not take kindly to your intrusion.'

'Pack-rats' was the name given to members of the Green Monkey tribe following a battle some two hundred years before, when they had been deprived of their ponies and forced to carry their possessions on their backs. The other tribes never forgot the humiliation, nor allowed the Monkeys to forget.

'How many are there?' asked Tenaka.

'Who knows? They all look alike to me.'

Tenaka held a leather canteen of water to the man's lips and he drank greedily.

'What tribe are you?' asked Tenaka.

'I'm glad you asked that after offering me water,' said the man. 'I am Subodai of the Spears.'

Tenaka nodded. The Spears were hated by the Wolfshead on the ample grounds that their warriors were equally as vicious and efficient as their own.

For the Nadir there was seldom respect for an enemy. Weaker foes were treated with contempt, stronger regarded with hatred. The Spears, though not exactly stronger, fell into the latter category.

'How did a Spear fall to the Pack-rats?' asked Tenaka.

'Luck,' answered Subodai, spitting more ants from his mouth. 'Pony broke a leg and then four of them jumped me.'

'Only four?'

'I have not been well!'

'I think I will dig you free.'

'Not a wise move, Wolfshead! I may be forced to kill you.'

'I am not concerned by any man who is captured by a mere four Pack-rats. Renya, dig him out.'

Tenaka moved back to sit down cross-legged on the ground, staring at the hills. There was no sign of movement, but he knew they were watching him. He stretched his injured back — over the last five days it had eased greatly.

Renya scraped away the hard-packed earth, freeing the man's arms which were bound behind him. Once free, he pushed her away and struggled until he had pulled himself clear. Without a word to Renya he walked to Tenaka and squatted down.

'I have decided not to kill you,' said Subodai.

'You have great wisdom for a Spear,' said Tenaka, without taking his gaze from the hills.

'This is true. I see your woman is a Drenai. Soft!'

'I like soft women.'

'There is something to be said for them,' agreed Subodai. 'Will you sell me a sword?'