Knights Of Dark Renown by David Gemmell

Author:David Gemmell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-11-25T19:26:19.967000+00:00

‘Is there a reason why I should? Can they pay me?’

‘I do not know. But tell me - that magic moment we spoke of, how much was it worth?’

Groundsel’s eyes narrowed. ‘What has that to do with this?’ he whispered. ‘I was drunk .

. . soft in the head. I regret what I said.’

‘Then put a price on your drunken words. How much gold is such a memory worth? Ten Raq? Twenty? A thousand?’

‘You know the answer,’ hissed Groundsel. ‘It is priceless.’

‘And that, my Lord, is how those people can pay you. No monsters to slay. No acts of courage. Just a gift to those who need it.’

‘And you, Nuada, what do you give?’

‘I have nothing.’

‘You have the twenty gold Raq I gave you, for your passage to Cithaeron. Will you pay that for grain?’

‘Yes, of course, but. . .’ Nuada blinked as Groundsel held out his hand, then opened his leather hip-pouch and counted out the coin.

Groundsel put the gold to one side and leaned forward. ‘And will you stay in the forest until I give you leave to go?’

‘Stay? I . . .’ He saw the look of dark triumph in Groundsel’s eyes and swallowed hard. In Cithaeron he could be rich again and live in a palace, with beautiful women to wait on him. The sun was bright and warm, the climate temperate. But here, amid the towering boredom?

‘Well?’ insisted Groundsel.

‘I will stay. But I too have a condition, my Lord. No more thefts from Nomads. I’ll stay for the hero Groundsel, not the robber killer.’

Groundsel chuckled and slapped Nuada’s shoulder. ‘I agree to your condition. Groundsel, the lying oath-breaker, the thief and the killer, gives you his word. For what it is worth.’

Despite the heavy cloak and the sheepskin gloves, two pairs of woollen leggings and fur-lined boots, Errin was bitterly cold. For two days he had followed Ubadai through the frozen forest, riding at a snail’s pace for fear of injuries to their mounts. Some trails, simple in summer, had become death-traps for riders, with ice-covered stones, holes part covered by snow, and trees heavy laden and ready to fall at a breath of wind. Ubadai had said nothing for the whole of the first day and when they had camped he had built a good fire, rolled into his blankets and slept until the dawn. Errin knew the tribesman was angry, and the Gabalan lord felt a large measure of guilt over it. He had freed Ubadai and the Nomad had no reason to follow him back into danger. But then he had had no reason to ride into Mactha fortress in order to rescue his former master either. It was baffling.

On the third morning, as the sky cleared, Errin gazed up at the rising sun.

‘Which way are we heading today?’ he asked Ubadai, as the tribesman rolled his blankets and strapped them to the saddle of his horse. Ubadai pointed to a trail through the trees.

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