Read Online Drenai Saga 01 - Legend by David Gemmell - Free Book Online
Authors: David Gemmell
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soldiers. I had begun to believe the man I wanted could not exist. Do you understand me?”
“All your life you’ve been looking for a man who couldn’t cook rabbits? Of course I understand you.”
“Do you really?” she asked softly.
“Yes. But explain it to me anyway.”
“You’re what I’ve always wanted,” she said, blushing. “You’re my coward-hero—my love.”
“I knew there would be something I wouldn’t like,” he said.
As she placed some logs on the blaze, he held out his hand. “Sit beside me,” he said. “You’ll be warmer.”
“You can share my blanket,” she told him, moving around the fire and into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t mind if I call you my coward-hero?”
“You can call me what you like,” he said, “so long as you’re always there to call me.”
“
Always
?”
The wind tilted the flames, and he shivered. “Always isn’t such a long time for us, is it? We only have as much time as Dros Delnoch holds. Anyway, you might get tired of me and send me away.”
“Never!” she said.
“ ‘Never’ and ‘always.’ I had not thought about those words much until now. Why didn’t I meet you ten years ago? The words might have meant something then.”
“I doubt it. I would only have been nine years old.”
“I didn’t mean it literally. Poetically.”
“My father has written to Druss,” she said. “That letter and this mission are all that keep him alive.”
“Druss? But even if he’s alive, he will be ancient by now; it will be obscene. Skeln was fifteen years ago, and he was old then—they will have to carry him into the Dros.”
“Perhaps. But my father sets great store by the man. He was awed by him. He feels he’s invincible. Immortal. He once described him to me as the greatest warrior of the age. He said that Skeln Pass was Druss’s victory and that he and the others just made up the numbers. He used to tell that story to me when I was young. We would sit by a fire like this and toast bread on the flames. Then he’d tell me about Skeln. Marvelous days.” She lapsed into silence, staring into the coals.
“Tell me the story,” he said, drawing her closer to him, his right hand pushing back the hair that had fallen across her face.
“You must know it. Everyone knows about Skeln.”
“True. But I’ve never heard the story from someone who was there. I’ve only seen the plays and listened to the saga poets.”
“Tell me what you heard and I will fill in the detail.”
“All right. There were a few hundred Drenai warriors holding Skeln Pass while the main Drenai army massed elsewhere. It was the Ventrian king, Gorben, they were worried about. They knew he was on the march but not where he would strike. He struck at Skeln. They were out-numbered fifty to one, and they held on until reinforcements arrived. That’s all.”
“Not quite,” said Virae. “Gorben had an inner army of ten thousand men called the Immortals. They had never been beaten, but Druss beat them.”
“Oh, come,” said Rek. “One man cannot beat an army. That’s saga-poet stuff.”
“No, listen to me. My father said that on the last day, when the Immortals were finally sent in, the Drenai line had begun to fold. My father has been a warrior all his life. He understands battles and the shift and flow between courage and panic. The Drenai were ready to crack. But then, just as the line was beginning to give, Druss bellowed a battle cry and advanced, cutting and slashing with his ax. The Ventrians fell back before him. And then suddenly those nearest to him turned to run. The panic spread like brushfire, and the entire Ventrian line crumbled. Druss had turned the tide. My father says he was like a giant that day. Inhuman. Like a god of war.”
“That was
then
,” said Rek. “I can’t see a toothless old man being of much use. No man can resist age.”
“I agree. But can you see what a boost to morale it will be just to have
“All your life you’ve been looking for a man who couldn’t cook rabbits? Of course I understand you.”
“Do you really?” she asked softly.
“Yes. But explain it to me anyway.”
“You’re what I’ve always wanted,” she said, blushing. “You’re my coward-hero—my love.”
“I knew there would be something I wouldn’t like,” he said.
As she placed some logs on the blaze, he held out his hand. “Sit beside me,” he said. “You’ll be warmer.”
“You can share my blanket,” she told him, moving around the fire and into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t mind if I call you my coward-hero?”
“You can call me what you like,” he said, “so long as you’re always there to call me.”
“
Always
?”
The wind tilted the flames, and he shivered. “Always isn’t such a long time for us, is it? We only have as much time as Dros Delnoch holds. Anyway, you might get tired of me and send me away.”
“Never!” she said.
“ ‘Never’ and ‘always.’ I had not thought about those words much until now. Why didn’t I meet you ten years ago? The words might have meant something then.”
“I doubt it. I would only have been nine years old.”
“I didn’t mean it literally. Poetically.”
“My father has written to Druss,” she said. “That letter and this mission are all that keep him alive.”
“Druss? But even if he’s alive, he will be ancient by now; it will be obscene. Skeln was fifteen years ago, and he was old then—they will have to carry him into the Dros.”
“Perhaps. But my father sets great store by the man. He was awed by him. He feels he’s invincible. Immortal. He once described him to me as the greatest warrior of the age. He said that Skeln Pass was Druss’s victory and that he and the others just made up the numbers. He used to tell that story to me when I was young. We would sit by a fire like this and toast bread on the flames. Then he’d tell me about Skeln. Marvelous days.” She lapsed into silence, staring into the coals.
“Tell me the story,” he said, drawing her closer to him, his right hand pushing back the hair that had fallen across her face.
“You must know it. Everyone knows about Skeln.”
“True. But I’ve never heard the story from someone who was there. I’ve only seen the plays and listened to the saga poets.”
“Tell me what you heard and I will fill in the detail.”
“All right. There were a few hundred Drenai warriors holding Skeln Pass while the main Drenai army massed elsewhere. It was the Ventrian king, Gorben, they were worried about. They knew he was on the march but not where he would strike. He struck at Skeln. They were out-numbered fifty to one, and they held on until reinforcements arrived. That’s all.”
“Not quite,” said Virae. “Gorben had an inner army of ten thousand men called the Immortals. They had never been beaten, but Druss beat them.”
“Oh, come,” said Rek. “One man cannot beat an army. That’s saga-poet stuff.”
“No, listen to me. My father said that on the last day, when the Immortals were finally sent in, the Drenai line had begun to fold. My father has been a warrior all his life. He understands battles and the shift and flow between courage and panic. The Drenai were ready to crack. But then, just as the line was beginning to give, Druss bellowed a battle cry and advanced, cutting and slashing with his ax. The Ventrians fell back before him. And then suddenly those nearest to him turned to run. The panic spread like brushfire, and the entire Ventrian line crumbled. Druss had turned the tide. My father says he was like a giant that day. Inhuman. Like a god of war.”
“That was
then
,” said Rek. “I can’t see a toothless old man being of much use. No man can resist age.”
“I agree. But can you see what a boost to morale it will be just to have
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