Read Online The First Chronicles of Druss the Legend by David Gemmell - Free Book Online

answered Collan, with a harsh, forced smile.
    Druss edged his way along the riverbank, keeping close to the undergrowth and pausing to listen. There were no sounds save the rustling of autumn leaves in the branches above, no movement apart from the occasional swooping flight of bat or owl. His mouth was dry, but he felt no fear.
    Across the narrow river he saw a white jutting boulder, cracked down the center. According to Shadak, the first of the sentries was positioned almost opposite. Moving carefully, Druss crept back into the woods, then angled toward the riverbank, timing his approach by the wind which stirred the leaves above him, the rustling in the trees masking the sound of his movements.
    The sentry was sitting on a rock no more than ten feet to Druss’s right, and he had stretched out his right leg. TakingSnaga in his left hand, Druss wiped his sweating palm on his trews, his eyes scanning the undergrowth for the second sentry. He could see no one.
    Druss waited, his back against a broad tree. From a little distance to the left came a harsh, gurgling sound. The sentry heard it too, and rose.
    “Bushin! What are you doing there, you fool?”
    Druss stepped out behind the man. “He is dying,” he said.
    The man spun, hand snaking down for the sword at his hip. Snaga flashed up and across, the silver blade entering the neck just below the ear and shearing through sinew and bone. The head toppled to the right, the body to the left.
    Shadak stepped down from the undergrowth. “Well done,” he whispered. “Now, when I send the women down to you, get them to wade across by the boulder, then head north up into the canyon to the cave.”
    “We’ve been over this many times,” Druss pointed out.
    Ignoring the comment, Shadak laid a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Now, whatever happens, do not come back into the camp. Stay with the women. There is only one path up to the cave, but several leading from it to the north. Get the women moving on the northwest route. You hold the path.”
    Shadak faded back into the undergrowth and Druss settled down to wait.
    Shadak moved carefully to the edge of the camp. Most of the women were asleep, and a guard was sitting by them; his head was resting against a wagon wheel, and Shadak guessed he was dozing. Unbuckling his swordbelt, he moved forward on his belly, drawing himself on his elbows until he reached the wagon. Slipping his hunting-knife from the sheath at his hip, Shadak came up behind the man—his left hand reached through the wheel, fingers closing on the sentry’s throat. The knife rammed home into the man’s back; his leg jerked once, then he was still.
    Moving back from beneath the wagon, Shadak came to the first girl. She was sleeping close to several other women, huddled together for warmth. He clamped a hand over her mouth and shook her. She awoke in a panic and started to struggle.
    “I am here to rescue you!” hissed Shadak. “One of your villagers is by the riverbank and he will lead you to safety. You understand? When I release you, slowly wake the others. Headsouth to the river. Druss, the son of Bress, is waiting there. Nod if you understand me.”
    He felt her head move against his hand. “Good. Make sure none of the others make a noise. You must move slowly. Which one is Rowena?”
    “She is not with us,” whispered the girl. “They took her away.”
    “Where?”
    “One of the leaders, a man with a scarred cheek, he rode out with her just after dusk.”
    Shadak swore softly. There was no time for a second plan. “What is your name?”
    “Mari.”
    “Well, Mari, get the others moving—and tell Druss to follow the original plan.”
    Shadak moved away from the girl, gathered his swords, and belted them to his waist. Then he stepped out into the open and strolled casually toward the tent. Only a few men were awake, and they paid little heed to the figure moving through the shadows so confidently.
    Lifting the tent flap, he swiftly