Waylander II: In The Realm of the Wolf

'I am sorry, Father.'

'You have nothing to be … sorry for. I sent you down there. I knew your destiny, Ekodas. From the moment she came to the temple there was a bond between you. Know peace, Ekodas . . . and . . . the joys of love.' He smiled weakly. 'You have done your duty by me, and by the others. Now . . . fetch Vishna, for time is short.'

Ekodas sent out a pulse and the tall forked-bearded warrior came ru

Vishna closed his eyes, and Ekodas knew their two spirits were now united. He made no attempt to join the communion, and waited patiently for it to end. He was holding Dardalion's hand when the Abbot died. Vishna jerked and groaned, then opened his dark eyes.

'What did he say?' asked Ekodas, releasing the hand.

'If we survive I am to travel to Ventria and found a new temple. The Thirty will live on. I am sorry that you will not be accompanying me.'

'I ca

Vishna stood. 'You know, just as he died, and flew from me, I felt the presence of the others – Merlon, Palista, Magnic. All waiting for him. It was wonderful. Truly wonderful.'

Ekodas gazed down on Dardalion's dead face, perfectly still and serene. 'Farewell, Father,' he whispered.

The silence beyond the keep was broken by the sound of distant trumpets.

'The Source be praised,' said Vishna.

'What is it?'

'That is the Gothir signal for withdrawal.' He sat down and closed his eyes, his spirit flying from the keep. Moments later he returned. 'A messenger has come from the Emperor. The siege is lifted. It is over, Ekodas! We live!'

At the barricade Angel peered into the courtyard. The Gothir were withdrawing in order, silently and in ranks of three. Angel sheathed his sword and turned to the defenders. 'I think you have won, my lads!' he shouted.

Orsa Khan leapt to the barricade and watched the departing soldiers. Swinging to Angel he threw his arms around the gladiator and kissed both his scarred cheeks. The other remaining Nadir surged forward, pulling Angel down and hoisting him to their shoulders, and a great cheer went up.

Watching the scene Miriel smiled, but the smile faded as she gazed around the hall. The dead were lying every­where. Kesa Khan emerged from the lower stair, leading women and children back to the light. The old shaman approached her.

'Your father has slain Zhu Chao,' he said, but he did not meet her gaze. 'You have won for us, Miriel.'

'At great cost,' she told him.

'Yes, the price was not insignificant.' The small boy who had followed Angel was beside the shaman, and Kesa Khan reached out and patted his head. 'Still we have a future,' said the old man. 'Without you we could have been dust in the mountains. I wish joy for you.'

Miriel took a deep, slow breath. 'I can't believe it is over.'

'Over? No. Only this battle. There will be others.'

'Not for me.'

'For you also. I have walked the futures, Miriel. You are a child of battle. You will remain so.'

'We shall see,' she said, turning away from him to see Angel striding towards her. She looked up into his scarred, ravaged face, and the twinkling grey eyes. 'It looks as though we've a little time left after all,' she said.

'It certainly seems that way,' he agreed. Reaching down Angel hoisted the young Nadir boy to his shoulder. The child giggled happily and waved his wooden sword in the air.

'You're good with children,' said Miriel. 'He adores you.'

'He's a courageous pup. He followed me down into the depths, and then charged the beast with a burning brand. Did you see him?'

'No.'

Angel turned to Kesa Khan. 'Who will look after him?' he asked.

'I shall. As a son,' answered the shaman.

'Good. I may visit now and again. I'll hold you to that.' Lifting the boy down he watched as Kesa Khan led him away. The boy glanced back and waved his sword. Angel chuckled. 'What now?' he asked Miriel.

'I'm pregnant,' she said, looking into his pale eyes.

'I know. Dardalion told me.'

'It frightens me.'

'You? The Battle Queen of Kar-Barzac? I don't believe it.'

'I don't have any right to ask, but. . .'

'Don't say it, girl. There's no need. Old Angel will be there. He'll always be there. In any way that you want him.'

The walls of Dros Delnoch reared high into the southern sky as Waylander drew rein. Karnak heeled his mount alongside the black-clad assassin. 'The war beckons,' he said.

'I'm sure you'll conquer, General. It's what you're good at.'

Karnak laughed. 'I expect I shall.' Then his smile faded. 'What of you, Waylander? How does it stand between us?'

The assassin shrugged. 'Whatever is said here will not change a jot of what is bound to follow. I know you, Karnak, I always did. You live for power, and your memory is long. Your son is dead – you'll not forget that. And after a while you'll come to blame me – or mine – for his passing. And I too have my memories. We are enemies, you and I. We will remain so.'

The Drenai leader gave a thin smile. 'You do not think highly of me. I can't say as I blame you, but you are wrong. I am willing to forget the past. You saved my life – and in so doing you have probably saved the Drenai from destruc­tion. That's what I shall remember.'

'Perhaps,' said Waylander, swinging his horse's head and riding towards the Mountains of the Moon.

Epilogue

Karnak returned to Dros Delnoch, gathered the forces there and led them against the Ventrians, smashing their army in two decisive battles at Erekban and Lentrum.

In the two years that followed Karnak took to brooding about the fear of assassination, becoming convinced that Waylander would one day seek him out and slay him. Against the advice of Asten he once more contacted the Guild, increasing the price on the assassin's head.

A veritable army of searchers was despatched, but no news of Waylander surfaced in Drenan.

Until one day three of the best hunters returned, bearing a rotting head, wrapped in canvas, and a small ebony and steel, double-bladed crossbow. Stripped of flesh, the skull and the crossbow were exhibited in the Museum at Drenan, under the inscription, cast in bronze: Waylander the Slayer, the man who killed the King.

One winter's day, three years later, and five after the siege of Kar-Barzac, the crossbow was stolen. In the same week, as Karnak marched at the head of the a

People in the crowd saw her speak to the Drenai leader just before she killed him, two bolts plunging into his chest. A rider, leading a second horse, galloped on to the Avenue of Kings, and the woman vaulted to the saddle just as Karnak's guards were rushing to apprehend her.

The two assassins made their escape, and many were the theories surrounding the murder: they were hired by the son of the Ventrian King, the battle monarch whose body was thrown in a mass grave after the defeat at Erekban. Or she was one of Karnak's mistresses, furious after he discarded her for a younger, prettier girl. Some in the crowd swore they recognised the male rider as Angel, a former gladiator. None knew the woman.

Karnak was given a state funeral. Two thousand soldiers marched behind the wagon bearing his body. Crowds lined the Avenue of Kings, and many were the tears shed for the man described on his tombstone as 'this greatest of Drenai heroes'.

The skull of Waylander was sold eight years later. It was bought at auction by the Gothir merchant Matze Chai, acting on behalf of one of his clients, a mysterious noble who lived in a palace in the Gothir city of Namib. When asked why a foreigner should pay such a vast amount for the skull of a Drenai assassin, Matze Chai smiled and spread his elegant hands.