Read Online The Hawk Eternal by David Gemmell - Free Book Online Page B

spear. It hammered into the warrior's belly and with a grunt he doubled over, his head speeding down to meet the other end of the ironcapped staff. Hurled from his feet, he hit the ground hard. Groggy, he tried to rise. Strong fingers lifted him by his hair, ramming his face into the rough bark of an old oak. He sank to the ground once more, semi-conscious.
     
    Ongist could feel his hands being tied, but could find no strength to resist. He passed out then, returning to consciousness some hours later for the sun had risen. His head ached and he could taste blood in his mouth. He tried to move but he was bound to a tree trunk.
     
    Several paces before him sat the two he had been tracking, the man and the boy. Both were obviously clan, but there was something familiar about the lad although the warrior couldn't place him.
     
    'I see you are back with us,' said the clansman. 'What is your name?'
     
    'Ongist, son of Asbidag.'
     
    'I am Caswallon of the Farlain. This is my son Gaelen,'
     
    'Why have you not killed me?'
     
    'I like a man who makes his point swiftly,' said Caswallon. 'You are alive by my whim. You are here to scout Farlain lands. Your instructions were probably to remain unseen, or kill any who discovered you — in which case you have failed twice. You had us encircled, and the circle is now tightening. Therefore if I leave you here you will be found, and you can give this message to your leaders: leave now, for I shall summon the Farlain hunters before the day is out and then not one of you will live to report to your lord.'
     
    'Strong words,' muttered the Aenir.
     
    'Indeed they are, my friend. But understand this, I am known among the Farlain as a mild-mannered man and the least of warriors. And yet two of your men are slain and you are trussed like a water fowl. Think what would happen if I loosed two hundred warcarles upon you.'
     
    'What are your two hundred?' spat the warrior. 'What are your two thousand, compared to the might of the Aenir? You will be like dry leaves before a forest fire. The Farlain? A motley crew of semi-savages with no king and no army. Let me advise you now. Send your emissaries to the Lord Asbidag in Ateris and make your peace. But bring presents, mind. The Lord Asbidag appreciates presents.'
     
    Caswallon smiled. 'I shall carry the words of your wisdom to the Farlain Council. Perhaps they will agree with you. When your men find you, tell them to head south. It is the fastest way from the Farlain.'
     
    The warrior hawked and spat.
     
    'Look at him, Gaelen. That is the Aenir, that is the race that has terrorised the world. But for all that he is merely a man who smells strong, whose hair is covered in lice, and whose empire is built on the blood of innocents. Warriors? As you saw last night they are just men, with little skill - except in the murder of women, or the lancing of children.'
     
    Ongist's eyes flashed in recognition. The boy was the lad Asbidag had speared at the gates of Ateris. He bit his lip and said nothing. His brother Tostig had told them all how the boy had crawled to the mountains and been rescued by twenty clansmen. It had worried Asbidag.
     
    'Would you like to kill him, Gaelen?'
     
    Ongist felt the hatred in the boy's gaze, and he stared back without fear. 'I see we made our mark upon you boy,' he sneered. 'Do they call you Blood-eye, or Scar-face?'
     
    The boy said nothing, but the cold gaze remained. 'Did someone cut your tongue out?' hissed Ongist.
     
    Gaelen turned to his father. 'Yes, I want to kill him,' he said. 'But not today.'
     
    The man and the boy left the clearing without a backward glance and Ongist settled back to wait for his brother and the others. It was nearing midday when the Aenir found him; they cut him loose and hauled him to his feet. His brothers Tostig and Drada supported him, for his head was dizzy and his vision blurred as he stood.
     
    'What happened?' asked Drada, his elder by three years.
     
    The clansman tricked