Drenai Saga 01 - Legend by David Gemmell

Author:David Gemmell [Gemmell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-79749-0
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

As the dawn bird song began, Rek groaned and eased his aching body away from the probing tree roots that were denting his side. His eyes opened. Most of the Thirty were still asleep, though tall Antaheim stood sentry by the stream. At the willow Serbitar remained where he had been during the recital.

Rek sat up and stretched, his mouth dry. Pushing back his blanket, he walked to the horses, removed his pack, rinsed his mouth with water from his canteen, and went to the stream. Taking out a bar of soap, he stripped the shirt from his chest and knelt by the swiftly rushing water.

“Please don’t do that,” said Antaheim.

“What?”

The tall warrior walked across to him, squatting by his side. “The soap bubbles will carry downstream. It is not wise thus to announce our movements.”

Rek cursed himself for a fool and apologized swiftly.

“That is not necessary. I am sorry to have intruded. Do you see that plant there, by the lichen rock?” Rek twisted, then nodded. “It is a lemon mint. Wash in the water, then crush some of the leaves and clean your body. It will refresh you and create … a more pleasant aroma.”

“Thank you. Is Serbitar still traveling?”

“He should not be. I will seek him.” Antaheim closed his eyes for several seconds. When they opened again, Rek recognized panic, and the warrior ran from the stream. In that moment all the members of the Thirty surged from their blankets and raced to Serbitar by the willow.

Rek dropped his shirt and soap on the bank and moved to join them. Vintar was bending over the albino’s still form; he closed his eyes and placed his hands on the young leader’s slender face. For long moments he remained thus. Sweat broke out upon his forehead, and he began to sway. When he lifted a hand, Menahem joined him instantly, raising Serbitar’s head. The swarthy warrior lifted the albino’s right eyelid: the iris was red as blood.

Virae dropped to her knees beside Rek. “His eyes are green normally,” she said. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know,” said Rek.

Antaheim rose from the group and sprinted for the undergrowth, returning minutes later with what appeared to be an armful of vine leaves, which he tipped to the ground. Gathering dried twigs, he fashioned a small fire; then, setting up a tripod of branches, he hung a pot above the flames, filled it with water, and crushed the leaves between his palms, dropping them into the pot. Soon the water began to bubble, and a sweet aroma filled the air. Antaheim lifted the pan from the flames, adding cold water from his canteen, then transferred the green liquid to a leather-covered pottery mug, which he passed to Menahem. Slowly they opened Serbitar’s mouth, and while Vintar held the albino’s nostrils, they poured in the liquid. Serbitar gagged and swallowed, and Vintar released his nose. Menahem laid his head back on the grass, and Antaheim swiftly killed the fire. There had been little smoke.

“What’s going on?” asked Rek as Vintar approached him.

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