Drenai Saga 02 - The King Beyond the Gate (34 page)

Leppoe had two of Lake’s giant bows placed near the center of each wall; these were tested for range and spread by Lake himself and the twelve men he had trained to handle them. Sacks of lead shot for slings were placed by the weapons, along with several thousand arrows.

“It all looks strong enough,” Thorn told Ananais. “But Dros Delnoch it is not!”

Ananais strode along the ramparts of Magadon, gauging the possible lines of attack. The walls negated Ceska’s cavalry, but the Joinings would have no trouble scaling them. Leppoe had worked miracles getting them up to fifteen feet in height, but it was not enough. Lake’s weapons would create havoc to within thirty feet of the walls, but nearer than that they would be useless.

Ananais sent Thorn to ride the two miles across the valley to Tarsk. Then he dispatched two other men to run the same distance. It took Thorn less than five minutes to make the journey, while the runners took almost twelve.

The general’s problem was a tough one. Ceska was likely to strike at both valleys simultaneously, and if one was overrun, the second was doomed. Therefore, a third force had to be held in check somewhere between the two, ready to move the instant a breach looked likely. But walls could be breached in seconds, and they didn’t have many minutes. Signal fires were useless, since the Skoda range loomed between the valley mouths.

However, Leppoe solved the problem by suggesting a triangular system of communication. By day, mirrors or lanterns could be used to send a message back into the valley, where a group of men would be constantly on the lookout. Once the message was received, the group would relay it back to the second valley in the same way. A force of five hundred men would camp between the valleys, and once a signal was received, they would ride like the devil. The system was practiced many times both in daylight and in darkness until Ananais was convinced it had reached its peak of efficiency. A call for help could be transmitted and a relief force could arrive within four minutes. Ananais would have liked to halve the time, but he was content.

Valtaya had moved back into the mountains with Rayvan and taken control of the medical supplies. Ananais missed her terribly; he had a strange feeling of doom that he could not shake off. He was never a man to give a great deal of thought to death; now it plagued him. When Valtaya had said good-bye the previous night, he had felt more wretched than at any time in his life. Taking her in his arms, he had fought to say the words he felt, desperate to let her know the depth of his love for her.

“I … I will miss you.”

“It won’t be for long,” she said, kissing his scarred cheek and averting her eyes from the ruined mouth.

“You … er … look after yourself.”

“And you.”

As he helped her to her horse, several other travelers cantered toward the hut and he scrambled to replace his mask. And then she was gone. He watched her until the night swallowed her.

“I love you,” he said at last, too late. He tore the mask from his face and bellowed at the top of his voice.

“
I love you!
” The words echoed in the mountains as he sank to his knees and hammered the ground with his fist. “Damn, damn, damn! I love you!”

18

T
enaka, Subodai, and
Renya had an hour’s start on the tribesmen, but that was gradually whittled back, for despite the strength of the Drenai mounts, Tenaka’s horse now carried double. At the top of a dusty hill Tenaka shaded his eyes with his hand and tried to count the riders giving chase, but it was not easy, for a swirling dust cloud rose up around them.

“I would say a dozen, no more,” said Tenaka at last.

Subodai shrugged. “Could be a lot less,” he said.

Tenaka remounted, casting about for a likely ambush site. He led them up into the hills to a low outcropping of rock that jutted over the trail like an outstretched fist. Here the trail curved to the left. Tenaka stood up in the saddle and leapt to the rock. Startled, Subodai slid forward and took up the reins.

“Ride forward to that dark hill, then slowly circle until you come back here,” Tenaka told him.

“What are you going to do?” asked Renya.

“I’m going to get a pony for my bondsman,” said Tenaka, grinning.

“Come, woman!” snapped Subodai, and cantered off in the lead. Renya and Tenaka exchanged glances.

“I don’t think I shall enjoy being the docile woman of the steppes,” she whispered.

“I said as much,” he reminded her with a smile.

She nodded and heeled her horse after Subodai.

Tenaka lay flat on the rock, watching the horsemen approach; they were some eight minutes behind Subodai. At close range Tenaka studied the riders; there were nine of them, wearing the goatskin jerkins of the steppes rider and rounded leather helms fringed with fur. Their faces were flat and sallow, their eyes black as night and coldly cruel. Each carried a lance, and swords and knives were strapped to their belts. Tenaka watched them come, waiting for the back marker.

They thundered up the narrow trail, slowing as they came to the curve by the rock. As they passed, Tenaka slid out, drawing up his legs under him; then, as the last rider cantered below him, he dropped like a stone to hammer his booted feet into the man’s face. He catapulted from the saddle. Tenaka hit the ground, rolled, came upright, and lunged for the pony’s rein. The beast stood still, nostrils quivering with shock. Tenaka patted him gently and then led him to the fallen warrior. The man was dead, and Tenaka stripped off his jerkin, pulling it over his own. Then he took the man’s helm and lance and, vaulting to the saddle, set off after the others.

The trail wound on, veering left and right, and the riders became less bunched. Tenaka cantered close to the man in front, just before another bend.

“Hola!” he called. “Wait!” The man drew back on the reins as his comrades moved out of sight.

“What is it?” inquired the rider. Tenaka drew up alongside him, pointing up in the air. As the man glanced up, Tenaka’s fist thudded into his neck, and without a sound he fell from the saddle. Up ahead came the sound of triumphant yells. Tenaka cursed and heeled his mount into a gallop, rounding the bend to see Subodai and Renya facing the seven riders, swords in hand.

Tenaka hit their line like a thunderbolt, his lance punching a rider from the saddle. Then his sword was out, and a second man fell screaming.

Subodai bellowed a war cry and kicked his mount forward; blocking a wild cut, he swept down his sword, cleaving his opponent’s collarbone. The man grunted, but he was game and attacked once more. Subodai ducked as the tribesman’s sword slashed through the air, then gutted the man expertly.

Two of the riders now charged at Renya, determined to gain some spoils. However, they were met by a feral snarl as she leapt from the saddle at the first, bearing man and pony to the ground. Her dagger sliced his throat so fast that he felt no pain and could not understand his growing weakness. Renya came up quickly, letting forth the bloodcurdling shriek that had terrified the outlaws back in Drenai. The ponies reared in terror, and her nearest opponent dropped his lance and grabbed the reins with both hands. Renya leapt, hammering a fist to his temple; he flew from the saddle, struggling to rise, then slumped to the ground unconscious.

The remaining two tribesmen disengaged and raced from the battleground as Subodai cantered to Tenaka.

“Your woman …” he whispered, tapping his temple. “She is crazy as a moon dog!”

“I like them crazy,” said Tenaka.

“You move well, Bladedancer! You are more Nadir than Drenai, I think.”

“There are those who would not see that as a compliment.”

“Fools! I have no time for fools. How many of these horses do I keep?” asked the Nadir, scanning the six ponies.

“All of them,” said Tenaka.

“Why so generous?”

“It stops me having to kill you,” Tenaka told him. The words moved through Subodai like ice knives, but he forced a grin and returned the cool stare of Tenaka’s violet eyes. In them Subodai saw knowledge, and it frightened him. Tenaka knew of his plan to rob and kill him; as sure as goats grew horns, he knew.

Subodai shrugged. “I would have waited until after my bond was completed,” he said.

“I know that. Come, let us ride.”

Subodai shuddered; the man was not human. He gazed at the ponies. Still, human or not, he was growing rich in Tenaka’s presence.

For four days they moved north, skirting villages and communities, but on the fifth day their food ran out and they rode into a village of tents nestled by a mountain river. The community was a small one, no more than forty men. Originally they had been of the Doublehair tribe far to the northeast, but a split had developed and now they were Notas—“No Tribe”—and fair game for all. They greeted the travelers with care, not knowing if they were part of a larger group. Tenaka could see their minds working; the Nadir law of hospitality meant that no harm could come to visitors while they stayed in one’s camp. But once out on the steppes …

“Are you far from your people?” asked the Notas leader, a burly warrior with a scarred face.

“I am never far from my people,” Tenaka answered him, accepting a bowl of raisins and some dried fruit.

“Your man is a Spear,” said the leader.

“We were pursued by Pack Rats,” answered Tenaka. “We slew them and took their ponies. It is a sad thing for Nadir to kill Nadir.”

“But it is the way of the world,” commented the leader.

“Not in Ulric’s day.”

“Ulric is long dead.”

“Some say he will rise again,” observed Tenaka.

“Men will always say that about kings of greatness. Ulric is forgotten meat and dusty bones.”

“Who leads the Wolves?” asked Tenaka.

“Are you Wolfshead, then?”

“I am what I am. Who leads the Wolves?”

“You are Bladedancer.”

“Indeed I am.”

“Why have you come back to the steppes?”

“Why does the salmon swim upstream?”

“To die,” said the leader, smiling for the first time.

“All things die,” observed Tenaka. “Once the desert in which we sit was an ocean. Even the ocean died when the world fell. Who leads the Wolves?”

“Saddleskull is the khan. So he says. But Knifespeaks has an army of eight thousand. The tribe has split.”

“So now it is not only Nadir who kills Nadir but Wolf who rends Wolf?”

“The way of the world,” said the leader once more.

“Which is the nearest?”

“Saddleskull. Two days northeast.”

“I will rest here with you tonight. Tomorrow I will go to him.”

“He will kill you, Bladedancer!”

“I am a hard man to kill. Tell that to your young men.”

“I hear you.” The leader rose to leave the tent but stopped at the flap. “Have you come home to rule?”

“I have come home.”

“I am tired of being Notas,” said the man.

“My journey is perilous,” Tenaka told him. “As you say, Saddleskull would desire my death. You have few men.”

“In the coming war we will be destroyed by one or another faction,” said the man. “But you—you have the look of eagles about you. I will follow you if you desire it.”

A sense of calm settled over Tenaka. An inner peace seemed to pulse from the very earth at his feet, from the distant blue mountains, to whisper in the long grass of the steppes. He closed his eyes and opened his ears to the music of silence. Every nerve in his body seemed on edge as the land cried out to him.

Home!

After forty years Tenaka Khan had learned the meaning of the word.

His eyes opened. The leader stood very still, watching him; he had seen men in a state of trance many times, and always it brought a sense of awe and a feeling of sadness that he could never experience this himself.

Tenaka smiled. “Follow me,” he told the man, “and I will give you the world.”

“Are we to be wolves?”

“No. We are the Nadir rising. We are the Dragon.”

At dawn the forty men of the Notas, minus the three outriding sentries, sat in two lines outside Tenaka’s tent. Behind them were the children: eighteen boys and three girls. Last sat the women, fifty-two of them.