Unshaven, his eyes red-rimmed, he looked ancient and worn out. How such a man could have fooled the colonel was beyond the understanding of Cadis Patralis.
Leaning forward in the saddle Cadis heeled his grey gelding up a slope, pausing at the crest and scanning the land. Some quarter of a mile to the south he saw a group of refugees struggling across a valley.
‘Rider coming, sir,’ said Sergeant Shialis. ‘It’s one of the scouts.’
Cadis swung in his saddle. A small man riding a pinto pony rode up the hill, drawing rein before the officer. ‘Found ‘em,’ he said. ‘Wish I hadn’t.’
Cadis fought to control his temper. The man was a private citizen, paid to scout, and therefore not obliged to salute or follow military protocol. Even so the lack of respect in his manner was infuriating.
‘Where are the others?’ he asked tightly.
‘Dead. I would have been too, if I hadn’t stopped to piss.’
‘Dead?’ echoed Cadis. ‘All three of them?’
‘Rode into a trap. They come from all sides. Tore down the horses, then butchered the men. I was behind, but they almost had me. I grabbed the pommel of me saddle and let the pinto drag me clear of them.’
‘How could beasts have sprung a trap?’ snapped Cadis. ‘It is preposterous.’
‘I agree with you, general. I wouldn’t have believed it myself unless I’d seen it.’
‘I am not a general, as you well know, and I will not tolerate insubordinate behaviour.’
Tolerate what you like,’ replied the man. ‘I’m quitting anyway. There’s no amount of money that would take me back to those creatures.’
‘How do you know it was a trap?’ asked Sergeant Shialis.
‘Trust me, Shialis. Four of them were crouched down in the long grass.
Didn’t emerge until the others had ridden by. It’s the grey one. I tell you, he’s smart, that one. When the others attacked he just stood back and watched. Gives me the shivers just to remember it.’
‘How many were there?’ asked the sergeant.
‘If you don’t mind I will conduct this interrogation,’ said Cadis, glaring at the soldier. A silence grew. He stared hard at the scout. ‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘How many were there?’
‘Fifteen — counting the grey one.’
‘And where was this?’
Twenty miles northeast, just where the land rises towards the mountains.’
There were more than twenty reported missing,’ said Cadis.
‘Aye. We found three of them dead back in the woods to the south.
Looked like they’d been struck by an axe — or a damn big sword. Don’t think there’s no live ones around here now.’
Twenty miles northeast, you say. That is out of our jurisdiction,’ said Cadis. ‘I’ll report this back to the colonel. You will make yourself available for his interrogation.’
At that moment the first of the refugees began to emerge onto the hill crest. Cadis stared at them. Many of the women and children were glancing nervously at him and his men. A child began to cry. The sound was shrill and spooked Cadis’s mount. ‘Shut that brat up!’ he snarled, jerking on the reins. The horse reared. Cadis fell back, his feet slipping from the stirrups. He landed on the ground with a bone-jarring thud.
Furious, he lurched to his feet, the sound of hastily curbed laughter from his soldiers adding fuel to the flames of his rage. ‘You stupid cow!’ he yelled at the frightened woman, who was trying to comfort the child.
A tall man stepped between them. ‘Control yourself,’ he said softly.
‘These people are frightened enough.’
Cadis blinked. The man was wearing a fringed buckskin jacket, obviously well made and expensive, and good quality leggings and boots.
The officer looked into the man’s eyes. They were startlingly blue and piercing. Cadis stepped back a pace. The silence grew. Cadis became aware that his men were waiting for him to say something. He felt foolish now — and this brought back his anger.
‘Who do you think you are?’ he stormed. ‘You don’t tell me to control myself. I am an officer in the victorious army of Dospilis.’
‘You are a man who fell off your horse,’ said the newcomer, his voice even. ‘These people have been attacked by beasts, and also by men who behaved like beasts. They are weary, frightened and hungry. They seek only the shelter of the city.’ Without another word the man walked past Cadis and approached Sergeant Shialis. ‘I remember you,’ he said. ‘You led a counter attack on a bridge in Pashturan five… six years ago. Took an arrow in the thigh.’
‘Indeed I did,’ said Shialis. ‘Though I don’t remember you being there.’
‘It was a brave move. Had you not held that bridge your flanks would have been turned and what was merely a defeat would have become a rout. What is it that you do here?’
‘We’re hunting beasts.’
‘We fought them last night. They moved off towards the north.’
Behind the two men Cadis Patralis had almost reached breaking point.
He had fallen from his horse, been laughed at, and now he was being ignored. Gripping the hilt of his cavalry sabre he made to move forward. A huge hand descended on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
‘Been a soldier long, laddie?’ Cadis turned and looked into eyes the colour of a winter sky. The face that framed them was old, deep lines carved on the features. The man had a black and silver beard, and wore a black helm, emblazoned with an axe, flanked by grinning silver skulls. ‘I’ve been a soldier most of my life,’ continued the man. ‘I’ve carried this axe across… well, I don’t rightly know how many lands.’ The warrior raised the weapon and Cadis found himself looking at his own reflection in the shining blades. ‘Never learned as much as I should. One truth, though, that I have found, is that it’s always best to leave anger at home. Angry men are stupid men, you see, laddie. And in wars it’s usually the stupid who die first. Not always, mind. Sometimes the stupid ensure that others die first. But the principle remains. So, how long have you been a soldier?’
Cadis felt a trembling begin in his stomach. There was something about the man that was leaching away his courage. He made one last attempt to regain control of the situation. ‘Unhand me,’ he said. ‘Do it now.’
‘Ah, laddie, if I do that,’ said the man amicably, his voice low, ‘then within a few heartbeats you’ll be dead. And we don’t want that, do we?
You’ll insult that fine young fellow talking to your sergeant, and he’ll kill you. Then matters will turn ugly and I’ll be obliged to use old Snaga on your troops. They seem like good boys, and it would be a shame to see so much unnecessary bloodshed.’
‘There are forty of us,’ said Cadis. ‘It would be insane.’
‘There won’t be forty at the close, laddie. However, I am now done talking. What happens now is up to you.’ The huge hand lifted from Cadis’s shoulder and the massive figure stepped away.
The young man stood for a moment, then took a deep breath. A cool breeze touched his skin and he shivered. He looked across at the woman and the child, saw the fear in her eyes, and felt the first heavy touch of shame. He walked over to them, offering a bow. ‘My apologies, lady,’ he said. ‘My behaviour was boorish. I am sorry if I frightened your child.’
Then he walked to his horse and stepped up into the saddle. Angling his mount he approached his sergeant. ‘Time to leave,’ he said.
‘Yes, sir.’
Cadis led the troop back down the hill and off towards the northwest and the waiting city.
‘What did he say, sir?’ asked Shialis, riding alongside.
‘Who?’
‘Druss the Legend.’
Cadis felt suddenly light-headed. ‘
‘I knew him, sir. Years ago. No mistaking him. What did he say? If you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I don’t mind, sergeant. He gave me some advice about soldiering. Said to leave anger at home.’
‘Good advice. You mind if I say something else, sir?’
