Read Waylander Page 13

  'How many of them were there?' asked Waylander.

  'We estimated eight thousand. Anyway, Karnak had sent scouts to watch for the Vagrians - he never trusted their promises of peace - so we had advance warning of their attack. Do you know Margate . . . ?' Waylander nodded. 'Then you know there is a small wood about a mile to the east.

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  Karnak had taken three hundred men there during the previous night. Now, as the Vagrians slept in their camp he descended on them in the darkest hours of the night, firing their tents and stampeding their horses. Our warriors made enough noise to be mistaken for a whole Drenai army, and we opened the gates and led an attack from the front. The Vagrians pulled back to re-form, but by dawn we were away to Skultik. We must have slain more than eight hundred of them.'

  'Clever,' said Waylander, 'but hardly a victory.'

  'What do you mean? We were outnumbered more than ten to one.'

  'Exactly. When you first received news of the inva­sion, you could have pulled back. What point was there in fighting at all?'

  'Have you no sense of honour? We gave them a bloody nose - we let them know the Drenai can fight as well as they run.'

  'But still they took the fort.'

  'I do not understand you, Dakeyras ... or what­ever your name is. If running means so much to you, why did you go to Masin and help Gellan and his men?'

  'It was the only safe place. Or rather the safest I could find.'

  'Well, you will be safe enough in Skultik. The Vagrians dare not invade.'

  'I hope the Vagrians know that.'

  'What does that mean?' snapped the young officer.

  'Nothing at all. Tell me about Egel?'

  'Why? So that you can mock his achievements?'

  'You are young and full of fire, and you see mock­ery where none exists. It is not blasphemy to ques­tion a military decision. It could be, as you say,

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  that Karnak's decision to give a bloody nose to the Vagrians was a good one; it would lift morale, for example. But it strikes me that it was a risky venture which could have whiplashed against him. What if the enemy had scouted the woods? He would have been forced to run, leaving you and three hundred men trapped.'

  'But they did not.'

  'Exactly - and now he is a hero. I have known many heroes. Mostly other men die to build their legends.'

  'I would be proud to die for Karnak - he is a great man. And beware of insulting him, unless you wish to cross swords with any man within earshot.'

  'I think your message is clear, Dundas. He is revered.'

  'And rightly so. He does not send his men into danger without risking himself. He is always in the thick of the fighting.'

  'Very wise,' observed Waylander.

  'Even now he plans to ride to the aid of Purdol. Is that the act of a vainglorious man?'

  'Purdol? It is surrounded.'

  Dundas bit his lip and turned away momentarily, his face reddening. 'I would be obliged if you did not repeat that. I should not have said it.'

  'I am not known for being loose-tongued,' said Waylander. 'It is forgotten.'

  Thank you, I am grateful. It is just that I was angry. He is a very great man.'

  'I am sure that he is. And now that we trust each other, I am sure you will not object to my riding forward to speak with my companions?'

  Dundas' face was a picture of confusion, but a resigned expression settled over his features. 'Of

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  course not. I need to feel the wind in my face also. I will ride with you.'

  The two men spurred their horses into a canter and Waylander rode to the centre of the column. Karnak swung in the saddle as he approached, fol­lowed by the young officer.

  'Welcome to our group, Waylander,' said the gen­eral, grinning. 'You've just missed the tale of Hargate.'

  'No, I did not. Dundas spoke of it. But were there dragons in your account?'

  'Not yet, but I'm working on it,' replied Karnak. 'Come ride beside me. I understand you and Gellan are old friends?'

  'We knew one another once,' said Gellan, 'but not very well.'

  'No matter,' said Karnak. 'Tell me, Waylander, why do the Brotherhood hunt you?'

  'I killed Kaem's son.'

  'Why?'

  'His father owed me money.'

  'God, you sicken me!' snapped Gellan. 'Excuse me, general, but I need to ride awhile and stretch my back.' Karnak nodded and Gellan pulled his horse from the group.

  'You're a strange man,' said Karnak.

  Waylander smiled coldly. 'So are you, general. What are you seeking?'

  'Victory. What else is there?'

  'Immortality?'

  Karnak smiled. 'Do not misread me, Waylander -1 am no man's fool. I am vain. I am conceited. My strength is that I know what I am. I am the finest general you will ever know, and the greatest warrior

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  of the age. Yes, I want immortality. And I will not be remembered as a gallant loser. Count on it.'

  Although they pushed on through most of the night, a sudden storm bogged down the wagons and Karnak called a halt. Tarpaulins were hastily erected against the sides of the wagons to create makeshift tents and men huddled there together against the lashing rain.

  Karnak kept Waylander close to him, but the assassin could not fail to notice the presence of two armed men who watched him constantly. Nor did he miss the venomous glance Karnak hurled at Dundas as the young officer returned to his men. Yet for all that the general remained, on the surface, in good humour. Sitting below the crude tent, his clothes wet and clinging to his body, Karnak ought - Waylander considered - to cut a ridiculous figure. The man was overweight and outlandishly garbed in clothes of green, blue and yellow. And yet he was still impressive.

  'What are you thinking?' asked Karnak, drawing his cloak about his shoulders.

  'I am wondering what on earth possesses you to dress like that,' said Waylander, grinning. 'Blue shirt, green cloak, yellow leggings! It seems that you dressed in stages while drunk.'

  'I am not shaped for fashionable garments,' admit­ted Karnak. 'I dress for comfort. Now tell me about this Armour of Egel's.'

  'An old man asked me to fetch it for him and I said that I would. There is no mystery to it.'

  'How splendidly you understate your mission. The old man was Orien, while the Armour is legend and hidden in the lands of the Nadir.'

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  'Dardalion told you. Well then, there is no need for you to question me further. You know all there is to know.'

  'I do not know why you chose to go. What does it profit you?'

  'That is my business.'

  'Indeed. But the Armour means a great deal to the Drenai and that is my concern.'

  'You have come a long way in a short time, gen­eral. It is hardly the concern of a First Dun at a run­down fort.'

  'Understand me, Waylander. I am a genial man with a heart of gold . . . when people humour me. Now, I like you and I am trying to forget that a man dressed in black and carrying a small crossbow killed King Niallad. Such a man would receive swift sentencing.'

  'Why do you need to know?'

  Karnak leaned back, his pale eyes locking to Way-lander's gaze. 'I could use the Armour, it would help me.'

  'It would not fit you, general.'

  'It can be altered.'

  'But it is promised to Egel.'

  'He does not even know of it.'

  'You are a man full of surprises, Karnak. Here you sit on the edge of defeat and already you plan your brilliant future. What is it to be? King Karnak? That has a ring to it. Earl Karnak, perhaps?'

  'I am not looking that far ahead, Waylander. I trust my judgements. Egel is a fine warrior and a good general. Cautious, yes, but there is steel in the man. Given certain advantages, he could swing this war.'

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  'The Armour would be just such an advantage,' commented Waylander.

  'Indeed it would. But it could be put to better use elsewhere.'

/>   'Where?'

  'Purdol,' said Karnak, leaning forward and watch­ing Waylander intently.

  'The fortress is already surrounded.'

  'There is a way in.'

  'What do you have in mind?' ,

  'I will send twenty of my best men with you to fetch the Armour. You will bring it to Purdol - to me.'

  'And you will stand on the battlements in Orien's Armour of Bronze and carve yourself a role in the history of the Drenai people.'

  'Yes. What do you say?'

  'I say forget it. Orien asked a favour of me and I said that I would attempt it. I may not be a great man, Karnak, but when I speak you can rely on my word. If it is humanly possible to retrieve the Armour, I will do so ... and deliver it to Egel in Skultik, or wherever he may be. Does that answer the question?'

  'You realise I am holding your life in the palm of my hand?'

  'I do not care, general. That is the simple beauty of this quest. I do not care if it is successful - and I care even less about threats to my life. I have nothing to live for, my blood runs in no living thing. Can you understand that?'

  'So I cannot tempt you with riches or with threats?'

  That is true. It makes a nonsense of my repu­tation, does it not?'

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  'Is there anything I can do to help you with your quest?'

  'That is a somewhat abrupt change of stance, general.'

  'I am a realist. I know when to walk away. If I cannot have the Armour, then Egel is the next best thing for the Drenai. So ask. Anything you require?'

  'I require nothing. I have funds enough in Skarta.'

  'But surely you cannot intend to go alone?'

  'Ideally I would like to take an army - but short of that, one man has more chance of success.'

  'What of Dardalion?'

  'His destiny lies elsewhere. He can, and will, pro­ve useful to you.'

  'How soon do you plan to leave?'

  'Soon.'

  'Still you do not trust me?'

  'I trust no one, general. Trust implies need, need implies caring.'

  'And you care for nothing? Not even the woman and the children?'

  'I care for nothing.'

  'I read men as other men read tracks. You are an open book to me, Waylander, and I think you are lying - as you lied when I asked about Kaem's son. But we will let it lie; it matters not a whit, except to you. I will let you sleep now.'

  The huge general pushed himself to his feet and stepped out into the night. The rain had stopped. Karnak stretched his back and moved off along the column, flanked by his two bodyguards.

  'What do you make of him, Ris?' he asked the taller of the two.

  'I don't know, general. They say he fought well at Masin. He's steady. Cool.'

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  'But would you trust him?'

  'I think I would. I would certainly sooner trust him than fight him.'

  'Well said.'

  'I do have a question, sir, if I may?'

  'Gods, man, you don't have to ask. Go ahead.'

  'All that about the Armour. What would you do with it?'

  'I would have sent it to Egel.'

  'I do not understand. That is where he plans to take it.'

  'All life is a riddle, my friend,' said Karnak.

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  The town of Skarta sprawled across a clearing between two hills in the south-west of Skultik. There were no walls around it, though hastily constructed defences were in evidence - loosely packed barriers of local rock built behind deep ditches. Soldiers were at work everywhere, increasing the height of the barricades or filling in the outfacing windows of per­imeter homes.

  But all work ceased as Karnak, now at the head of the column, led the wagons into the town.

  'Welcome back, general!' shouted one man, sit­ting back on the wall he was building.

  'Meat tonight. How does that sound?' yelled Karnak.

  Back at the rear of the column Waylander rode with Dardalion.

  'Another great Karnak victory,' observed Way­lander. 'See how the crowds flock to him! You would think he defended Masin himself. Where is Gellan in this moment of triumph?'

  'Why do you not like him?' asked Dardalion.

  'I do not dislike him. But he is a poseur.'

  'Do you not think he needs to be? He has a demoralised army - a force in need of heroes.'

  'Perhaps.' Waylander cast his eyes over the defences. They were well planned, the ditches deep enough to prevent a force of horsemen from charg-

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  ing the town and the walls strategically placed to allow archers to inflict heavy losses on an attacking army. But they were useless in any long-term encounter, for they were neither high nor strong. Nor were they linked. It was not possible to turn Skarta into a fortress, and Waylander guessed the defences were more for the town's morale than for any genuine attempt to fight the Vagrians.

  Once through the outer defences, the wagons pulled into the centre of Skultik. The buildings were mainly of white stone, hewn from the Delnoch mountains to the north. Mostly single-storey dwell­ings, the town was built around an old fort villa at the centre which now was the Hall of Council and Egel's headquarters.

  Waylander reined in his horse as the column entered.

  'I will find you later,' he called to Dardalion, then rode to the eastern quarter. Since his meeting with Karnak he was no longer guarded, but he still pro­ceeded cautiously, checking several times to see if he was being followed. The houses were poorer here, the walls painted white to imitate the grand granite and marble homes of the northern quarter, but the stone was inferior quality.

  Waylander rode to an inn near the Street of Wea­vers and left his mount in a stable at the rear. The inn was crowded, the air thick with the smell of stale sweat and cheap beer. He pushed his way through to the long wooden bar, his eyes raking the crowd; the barman lifted a pewter mug as he saw him approach.

  'Ale?' he asked.

  Waylander nodded. 'I am looking for Durmast,' he said.

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  'Many people look for Durmast. He must be a popular man.'

  'He's a pig. But I need to find him.'

  'Owe you money, does he?' The barman grinned, showing stained and broken teeth.

  'I am ashamed to admit that he's a friend of mine.'

  'Then you ought to know where he is.'

  'Is he in that much trouble?'

  The barman grinned again and filled Waylander's jug with frothing ale. 'If you are seeking him, you'll find him. Enjoy your drink.'

  'How much?'

  'Money's not worth that much here, friend. So we are giving it away.'

  Waylander drank deeply. 'Tasting like this, you ought to pay people for drinking it!' The barman moved away and Waylander settled his arms on the bar and waited. After several minutes, a thin hat­chet-faced young man tapped his arm.

  'Follow me,' he said.

  They moved through the crowd to a narrow door at the back of the inn, which opened on to a small courtyard and a series of alleys. The man's slight figure jogged ahead, cutting left and right through the maze until at last he stopped at a wide door studded with brass. There he knocked three times, waited, then twice more and the door was opened by a woman wearing a long green dress. Wearily she led them to a room at the back of the house and the young man knocked again. Then he grinned at Waylander and moved away.

  Waylander placed his hand on the door-latch, then stopped. Moving to one side with his back against the wall, he flicked the latch and pushed the door open. A crossbow shaft hammered into the wall

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  opposite, sending a shower of sparks across the corridor.

  'Is that any way to greet an old friend?' asked Waylander.

  'A man has to be careful among friends,' came the reply.

  'You owe me money, you reprobate!'

  'Come in and collect it.'