Legend (Drenai Saga, #1)

by David Gemmell

‘Such judgement!’ said Gilad. ‘It’s small wonder to me that you didn’t enter yourself, so great is your knowledge.’ ‘I don’t have to fly in order to know that the sky is blue,’ said Bregan. ‘Anyway, who did you back?’

‘Serbitar is an albino – a true albino. He needs certain herbs in order to maintain his strength. Last night he journeyed too far and lost his way. It was foolhardy. But his heartbeat is strong and he is now resting.’

‘Is it not just a word?’ ‘No, it is far more. Egel, who built this fortress, had names carved on every wall. “Eldibar” means “Exultation”. It is there that the enemy is first met. It is there he is seen to be a Man. Power flows in the veins of the defenders. The enemy falls back against the weight of our swords and the strength of our arms. We feel, as heroes should, the thrill of battle and the call of our heritage. We are exultant! Egel knew the hearts of men. I wonder did he know the future?’ ‘What do the other names mean?’ Antaheim shrugged. ‘That is for another day. It is not good luck to talk of Musif while we shelter under the protection of Eldibar.’ Antaheim leaned back into the wall and closed his eyes, listening to the rain and the howling wind. Musif. The Wall of Despair! Where strength has not been great enough to hold Eldibar, how can Musif be held? If we could not hold Eldibar, we cannot hold Musif. Fear will gnaw at our vitals. Many of our friends will have died at Eldibar and once more we will see, in our minds, the laughing faces. We will not want to join them. Musif is the test. And we will not hold. We will fall back to Kania, the Wall of Renewed Hope. We did not die on Musif and Kania is a narrower fighting place. And anyway, are there not three more walls? The Nadir can no longer use their ballistae here, so that is something, is it not? In any case, did we not always know we would lose a few walls? Sumitos, the Wall of Desperation, will follow. We are...

The Nadir fell back. The Drenai cheered. The brush blazed for over an hour, and the four thousand warriors manning Musif were stood down. Some lay in groups on the grass; others wandered to the three mess halls for a second breakfast. Many sat in the shade of the rampart towers. Druss strolled among the men, swapping jests here and there; accepting a chunk of black bread from one man, an orange from another. He saw Rek and Virae sitting alone near the eastern cliff and wandered across to join them. ‘So far, so good!’ he said, easing his huge frame to the grass. ‘They’re not sure what to do now. Their orders were to take the wall, and they’ve accomplished that.’ ‘What next, do you think?’ asked Rek. ‘The old boy himself,’ answered Druss. ‘He will come. And he’ll want to talk.’ ‘Should I go down?’ asked Rek. ‘Better if I do. The Nadir know me. “Deathwalker”. I’m part of their legends. They think I’m an ancient god of death stalking the world.’ ‘Are they wrong, I wonder?’ said Rek, smiling. ‘Maybe not. I never wanted it, you know. All I wanted was to get my wife back. Had slavers not taken her I would have been a farmer. Of that I am sure – though Rowena doubted it. There are times when I do not much like what I am.’ ‘I’m sorry, Druss. It was a jest,’ said Rek. ‘I do not see you as a deathgod. You are a man and a warrior. But most of all, a man.’ ‘It’s not you, boy; your words only echo what I already feel. I shall die soon … Here at this Dros. And what will I have achieved i...

Druss laughed aloud. ‘Death always floats where I stand, Ulric! I am he who walks with death. Does your shaman not know your own legends? I may choose to die at Sumitos. I may choose to die at Musif. But wherever I choose to die, know this: as I walk into the Valley of Shadows I will take with me more than a few Nadir for company on the road.’ ‘They will be proud to walk with you. Go in peace.’

‘And your friends? Do you refuse them also?’ ‘I cannot watch you die again, Vintar.’ ‘Why not? I myself have seen the scene a hundred times. I have even written a poem about it.’ ‘As we are now – shall we be again, after death? Free souls?’ ‘I do not know, but I would have it so. Now return to your duty. I have pulsed The Thirty. They will keep your body alive for as long as they can.’ ‘They always have. Why should I be the last to die?’ ‘Because we would have it so. We love you, Serbitar. And always have. A shy child you were, who had never tasted friendship. Suspicious you were, of the slightest touch or embrace – a soul crying alone in a cosmic wilderness. Even now you are alone.’ ‘But I love you all.’