Drenai Series 08 - Winter Warriors by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online

asked Bison. 'Anyway, I did reach the quarters once, didn't I? It was during the Skathian campaign. I was beaten by Coris.' He grinned. 'You remember him? Big, blond fellow. Died at the siege of Mellicane.'
    'You are quite right,' said Nogusta. 'Coris was beaten in the semifinal. I remember losing money on him.'
    'I've never lost money on the king's birthday,' said Bison, happily. 'I always bet on you, Kebra.' His smile faded and he swore. 'This will be the last year when you pay off all my winter debts.'
    'Not this year, my friend,' said Kebra. 'I'm not entered.'
    'I thought you might forget,' said Bison, 'so I entered you myself.'
    'Tell me you are joking,' said Kebra, his voice cold.
    'I never joke about my debts. Shouldn't you be out there practising?'
*
    The crowds were beginning to gather as Dagorian strolled out onto the meadow. He was uncomfortable in full armour, the gilded black and gold breastplate hanging heavy on his slim shoulders. Still, he thought, at least I don't have to wear the heavy plumed helm. The cheek guards chafed his face and, despite the padded cap he wore below it, the helm did not sit right. Once when the king called out to him Dagorian had turned sharply and the helm had swivelled on his head, the left cheek guard sliding over his left eye. Everyone had laughed. Dagorian had never wanted to be a soldier, but when your father was a hero general - and, worse, a dead hero general -the son was left with little choice.
    And he had been lucky. The White Wolf had taken him on to his staff, and spent time teaching the youngster tactics and logistics. While Dagorian did not enjoy soldiering he had discovered he had a talent for it, and that made a life of campaigning at least marginally tolerable.
    The preparations for the king's birthday were complete now, and within the hour the crowds would begin to surge through the gates. The sky was clear, the new day less cold than yesterday. Spring was coming. Only in the evenings now did the temperature drop below freezing. Dagorian saw the three old warriors talking by the fence rail. He strolled across to where they stood. As he approached, Kebra the Bowman strode away. He looks angry, thought Dagorian. The black swordsman saw Dagorian approach and gave a salute.
    'Good morning to you, Nogusta,' said the officer. 'You fought well yesterday.'
    'He does that,' said Bison, with a wide, gap-toothed grin. 'You're the son of Catoris, aren't you?'
    'Yes.'
    'Good man,' said Bison. 'You could always rely on the Third Lancers when he was in command. He was a hard bastard, though. Ten lashes I got when I didn't salute fast enough. Still, that's the nobility for you.' He swung to Nogusta. 'You want more pie?' The black man shook his head and Bison ambled away towards one of the food tents.
    Dagorian grinned. 'Did he just praise my father, or insult him?' he asked.
    'A little of both,' said Nogusta.
    'An unusual man.'
    'Bison or your father?'
    'Bison. Are you entered in any of the tournaments?'
    'No,' said the black man.
    'Why not? You are a superb swordsman.'
    'I don't play games with swords. And you?'
    'Yes,' answered Dagorian. 'In the sabre tourney.'
    'You will face Antikas Karios in the final.'
    Dagorian looked surprised. 'How can you know that?'
    Nogusta lifted his hand and touched the centre of his brow. 'I have the Third Eye,' he said.
    'And what is that?'
    The black man smiled. 'It is a Gift - or perhaps a curse - I was born with.'
    'Do I win or lose?'
    'The Gift is not that precise,' Nogusta told him, with a smile. 'It strikes like lightning, leaving an image. I can neither predict nor direct it. It comes or it. . .' His smile faded, and his expression hardened. Dagorian looked closely at the man. It seemed he was no longer aware of the officer's presence. Then he sighed. 'I am sorry,' he said. 'I was momentarily distracted.'
    'You saw another vision?' asked Dagorian.
    'Yes.'
    'Did it concern the sabre tourney?'
    'No, it did not. I am sure you will acquit yourself