The King Beyond the Gate

It was enough.

Scaler tightened the saddle-cinch on the black gelding and swung to the saddle, hooking the helm over the pommel.

'Farewell, my friend,' he said.

'May the god of fortune rest with you,' answered Magir.

Scaler heeled the gelding away through the trees. He rode for over an hour until at last the southern gates of Delnoch appeared before him, the great wall spanning the pass. It was so long since he had been home.

Two sentries saluted as he rode under the portcullis gate, turning left to the doors of the keep. A soldier came forward and took the reins as he dismounted.

Scaler marched forward and another sentry approached.

'Take me to the Gan,' ordered Scaler.

'Gan Paldin is asleep, sir.'

'Then wake him!' snapped Scaler, keeping his voice bleak and cold.

'Yes, sir. Follow me, sir,' said the man.

He led Scaler down the long torch-lit corridor, through the Hall of Heroes lined with statues and on up the marble staircase to Paldin's quarters. Once they had belonged to Scaler's grandfather. The sentry rapped on the door several times before a sleepy voice answered; the door swung open. Gan Paldin had pulled on a woollen robe. He was a short man of middle years, with large, protruding dark eyes. Scaler disliked him instantly.

'Could this not have waited?' asked Paldin testily.

Scaler handed over the scroll and Paldin ripped it open and read it swiftly.

'Well,' he said, 'is that it? Or is there a personal message?'

'I have another message, my Lord. From the emperor himself. He is expecting aid from the north and you are to allow the Nadir general through the gates. You understand?'

'How strange,' murmured Paldin. 'Let them through, you say?'

'That is correct.'

Paldin swung round, seizing a dagger from his bedside table. The blade swung up, resting on Scaler's throat.

'Then perhaps you would explain the meaning of this message?' he said, holding up the scroll for Scaler to read.

'Watch out for Nadir army. Hold at all costs. Ceska:

'I do not intend to stand here for much longer with a knife at my throat,' said Scaler stonily. 'I do not wish to kill a general. Remove it this instant — or face the fury of the Templars.'

Paldin blanched but he removed the knife. The sentry had drawn his sword and was standing behind Scaler.

'Good,' said Scaler. 'Now read the message again. You will note that it says,"Watch out for Nadir army." Hence my message to you. "Hold at all costs" refers to the rebels and the damned Sathuli. What the emperor required of you is that you obey him. He needs the Nadir — you understand?'

'It is not clear.'

'It is clear enough to me,' snapped Scaler. 'The emperor has arranged a treaty with the Nadir. They are sending a force to help him stamp out the rebels, there and elsewhere.'

'I must have confirmation,' argued Paldin.

'Indeed? Then you refuse the emperor's orders?'

'Not at all. I am loyal, always have been. It is just that this is so unexpected.'

'I see. You criticise the emperor for not bringing you into all his plans?'

'Don't put words in my mouth. That is not what I said.'

'Do I look like a fool to you, Paldin?'

'No, that's. .'

'What kind of a fool would I be, coming here with a letter that proved me a liar?'

'Yes, I see that. .'

'Well, there are only two possibilities. I am a fool or. .?'

'I understand,' mumbled Paldin.

'However,' said Scaler, his voice taking on a more kindly tone, 'your caution is not without reason. I could have been a traitor.'

'Exactly.'

'Therefore I will allow you to send a message to confirm.'

'Thank you.'

'It is nothing. You have fine quarters here?'

'Yes.'

'Have you checked them thoroughly?'

'For what?'

'Hidden places where spies can lurk and listen.'

'There are no such places here.'

Scaler smiled and closed his eyes. 'I will search for you,' he said.

Gan Paldin and the sentry stood in silence as Scaler slowly turned on his heel. His finger stabbed out. 'There!' he said and Paldin jumped.

'Where?'

Scaler opened his eyes. 'There, by the panel. A secret passage!' He walked to the carved oak panelling and pressed a switch. The panel slid open to reveal a narrow walkway and a flight of stairs.

'You really should be more careful,' said Scaler. 'I think I will sleep now and travel back with your message tomorrow. Or would you prefer another messenger to go tonight?'

'Er. . no!' said Paldin, peering into the web-shrouded chamber. 'How did you do that?'

'Question not the power of the Spirit!' said Scaler.

23

Ananais stepped down from the wall and joined Thorn, Lake and Galand on the grass below. Jugs of wine and plates of meat had been set out and the group ate in weary silence. Ananais had not watched as his old friend was torn apart, but he had turned back in time to see the power of the Templars ripped asunder by the awful ferocity of the dying beasts.

After that the Legion had attacked again, but halfheartedly. They were repulsed with ease. Darik called a halt while the bodies were cleared away: five thousand Joinings, three hundred Templars and another thousand soldiers had died in those terrifying minutes.

Ananais saw Balan sitting alone near the trees; taking a jug of wine, he joined him. Balan was a picture of misery, sitting with head bent staring at the ground. Ananais sat beside him.

Tell me!' he ordered.

'What is to tell?' answered the priest. 'They gave their lives for you.'

'What did they do?'

'I cannot describe it to you, Darkmask. But simply they projected a picture into the minds of the beasts. The picture awakened that within them which was still human — it tore them apart.'

'Couldn't they have done it from the safety of the walls?'

'Perhaps. But the closer you are to a man, the stronger is your power. They had to get close in order to be sure.'

'And now only you are left.'

'Yes. Only Balan!'

'What is happening at Tarsk?'

'I shall find out for you,' said Balan, closing his eyes. Moments later he opened them again. 'All is well. The wall holds.'

'How many men did they lose?'

"Three hundred will not fight again. Only one hundred and forty have died.'

'Only,' muttered Ananais. 'Thank you.'

'Don't thank me,' said Balan. 'I loathe everything to do with this insane venture.'

Ananais left him and wandered back into the trees, pulling off his mask and allowing the cool night air to soothe his burning skin. Stopping by a stream he dunked his head, then he drank deeply. Rayvan saw him there and called out, giving him time to replace his mask.

'How goes it?' she asked.

'Better than we expected. But more than four hundred men are dead at both walls. At least another four hundred will not fight again.'

'How many does that leave us?'

'Around three hundred here. Five hundred at Tarsk.'

'Can we hold?'

'Who the Hell knows? Maybe one more day. Maybe two.'

'Still a day short,' said Rayvan.

'Yes. Tantalising, isn't it?'

'You look weary. Get some rest.'

'I will, lady. How are your wounds?'

'The scar on my face will enhance my looks. The hip is sore.'

'You have done well.'

'Tell that to the dead.'

'I don't need to,' said Ananais. "They died for you.'

'What will you do if we win, Darkmask?'

'A strange question in the circumstances.'

'Not at all. What will you do?'

'Stay a soldier, I suppose. Re-form the Dragon.'

'What about marriage?'

'No one would have me. I am not exactly pretty under this mask.'

'Show me!' she said.