The King Beyond The Gate by David Gemmell

Author:David Gemmell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Epic, Adventure, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781857236651
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 1985-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Drenai 2 - The King Beyond the Gate

13

Ananais rode from the city at dusk, anxious to be free of its noisy confines. Once he had loved the city life, with its endless rounds of parties and hunts. There were beautiful women to be loved, men to be bested at wrestling or mock sword-play. There were falcons and tourneys and dances overlapping one another, as the most civilised western nation indulged in pleasure.

But then he had been the Golden One and the subject of legend.

He lifted the black mask from his torn face and felt the wind ease the angry scar. Riding to a nearby hilltop crowned with rowan trees, there he slid from the saddle and sat staring at the mountains. Tenaka was right - there had been no reason to kill the Legion men. It was proper that they wished to go back - it was their duty. But then hate was a potent force, and Ananais carried hate carved in his heart. He hated Ceska for what he had done to the land and its people and he hated the people for allowing it. He hated the flowers for their beauty and the air around him for granting him breath.

Most of all he hated himself, for not having the courage to end his misery.

What did these Skoda peasants know of his reasons for being among them? They had cheered him on the day of the battle, and again when he arrived in the city. 'Darkmask', they called him – a hero out of the past, built in the image of the immortal Druss.

What did they know of his grief?

He stared down at the mask. Even in this there was vanity, for the front was built out in the shape of a nose. He might just as well have cut two holes in it.

He was a man without a face and without a future. Only the past brought him pleasure - but with that came the pain. All he had now was his prodigious strength ... and that was failing. He was forty-six years old and time was running out.

For the thousandth time he remembered the arena battle with the Joining. Had there been another way to kill the beast? Could he have saved himself this torment? He watched the battle once more through the eye of memory. There was no other way - the beast had been twice as strong and half again as swift as he. It was a miracle that he had slain it at all.

His horse whinnied, its ears flicking up, its head turning. Ananais replaced his mask and waited. Within seconds his keen hearing caught the soft clip-clopping of a walking horse.

'Ananais!' called Valtaya from the darkness. 'Are you there?' He cursed softly, for he was in no mood for company.

'Over here! On the lee of the hill.'

She rode to him and slipped from the saddle, dropping the reins over her mount's neck. The gold of her hair turned silver in the moonlight and her eyes reflected the stars.

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