Drenai Series 02 - The King Beyond the Gate by David Gemmell Page B
Authors: David Gemmell
Ads: Link
the door slid silently into a recess. Inside was a long chamber containing thirty sets of silver armour, draped with cloaks of dazzling white. Before each set was a small table bearing scabbarded swords placed in front of helms crowned with plumes of white horse-hair.
'Do you know what these represent?' asked the Abbot.
'No.' Decado was sweating freely. He wiped his eyes and the Abbot noticed with concern that the haunted look had returned to the former warrior.
'This is the armour worn by The Delnoch Thirty, led by Serbitar - the men who fought and died during the First Nadir War. You have heard of them?'
'Of course.'
'Tell me what you have heard.'
'Where is this leading, my Lord Abbot? I have duties in the gardens.'
'Tell me of The Delnoch Thirty,' ordered the Abbot.
Decado cleared his throat. 'They were warrior priests. Not like us. They trained for years and then chose a distant war in which to die. Serbitar led The Thirty at Delnoch, where they advised the Earl of Bronze and Druss the Legend. Together they turned back the hordes of Ulric.'
'But why would priests take up weapons?'
'I don't know, Lord Abbot. It is incomprehensible.'
'Is it?'
'You have taught me that all life is sacred to the Source, and that to take life is a crime against God.'
'And yet evil must be opposed.'
'Not by using the weapons of evil,' answered Decado.
'A man stands above a child with spear poised. What would you do?'
'I would stop him - but not kill him.'
'You would stop him with a blow, perhaps?'
'Yes, perhaps.'
'He falls badly, strikes his head and dies. Have you sinned?'
'No . . . yes. I don't know.'
'He is the sinner, for his action ensured your reaction, and therefore it was his action that killed him. We strive for peace and harmony, my son - we long for it. But we are of the world and subject to its demands. This nation is no longer in harmony. Chaos controls and the suffering is terrible to behold.'
'What are you trying to say, my Lord?'
'It is not easy, my son, for my words will cause you great pain.' The Abbot moved forward, placing his hands on the priest's shoulders. 'This is a Temple of The Thirty. And we are preparing to ride against the darkness.'
Decado pulled back from the Abbot. 'No!'
'I want you to ride with us.'
'I believed in you. I trusted you!' Decado turned away and found himself facing one of the sets of armour. He twisted round. 'That is what I came here to escape: death and slaughter. Sharp blades and torn flesh. I have been happy here. And now you have robbed me of it. Go ahead - play your soldier's games. I will have none of it.'
'You cannot hide for ever, my son.'
'Hide? I came here to change.'
'It is not hard to change when your biggest problem is whether the weeds prosper in a vegetable patch.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means that you were a psychopathic killer - a man in love with death. Now I offer you the chance to see if you have changed. Put on the armour and ride with us against the forces of Chaos.'
'And learn to kill again?'
'That we shall see.'
'I don't want to kill. I wish to live among my plants.'
'Do you think I want to fight? I am nearing sixty years of age. I love the Source and all things that grow or move. I believe life is the greatest gift in all the Universe. But there is real evil in the world, and it must be fought. Overcome. Then others will have the opportunity to see the joy of life.'
'Don't say any more,' snapped Decado. 'Not another damned word!' Years of suppressed emotion roared through him, filling his senses, and forgotten anger lashed him with whips of fire. What a fool he had been - hiding from the world, grubbing in the soil like a sweating peasant!
He moved to a set of armour placed to the right of the rest and his hand reached down to curl round the ivory hilt. With one smooth movement he swept the blade into the air, his muscles pulsing with the thrill of the weapon. Its blade was silver steel and razor-sharp, and the balance was perfection.
'Do you know what these represent?' asked the Abbot.
'No.' Decado was sweating freely. He wiped his eyes and the Abbot noticed with concern that the haunted look had returned to the former warrior.
'This is the armour worn by The Delnoch Thirty, led by Serbitar - the men who fought and died during the First Nadir War. You have heard of them?'
'Of course.'
'Tell me what you have heard.'
'Where is this leading, my Lord Abbot? I have duties in the gardens.'
'Tell me of The Delnoch Thirty,' ordered the Abbot.
Decado cleared his throat. 'They were warrior priests. Not like us. They trained for years and then chose a distant war in which to die. Serbitar led The Thirty at Delnoch, where they advised the Earl of Bronze and Druss the Legend. Together they turned back the hordes of Ulric.'
'But why would priests take up weapons?'
'I don't know, Lord Abbot. It is incomprehensible.'
'Is it?'
'You have taught me that all life is sacred to the Source, and that to take life is a crime against God.'
'And yet evil must be opposed.'
'Not by using the weapons of evil,' answered Decado.
'A man stands above a child with spear poised. What would you do?'
'I would stop him - but not kill him.'
'You would stop him with a blow, perhaps?'
'Yes, perhaps.'
'He falls badly, strikes his head and dies. Have you sinned?'
'No . . . yes. I don't know.'
'He is the sinner, for his action ensured your reaction, and therefore it was his action that killed him. We strive for peace and harmony, my son - we long for it. But we are of the world and subject to its demands. This nation is no longer in harmony. Chaos controls and the suffering is terrible to behold.'
'What are you trying to say, my Lord?'
'It is not easy, my son, for my words will cause you great pain.' The Abbot moved forward, placing his hands on the priest's shoulders. 'This is a Temple of The Thirty. And we are preparing to ride against the darkness.'
Decado pulled back from the Abbot. 'No!'
'I want you to ride with us.'
'I believed in you. I trusted you!' Decado turned away and found himself facing one of the sets of armour. He twisted round. 'That is what I came here to escape: death and slaughter. Sharp blades and torn flesh. I have been happy here. And now you have robbed me of it. Go ahead - play your soldier's games. I will have none of it.'
'You cannot hide for ever, my son.'
'Hide? I came here to change.'
'It is not hard to change when your biggest problem is whether the weeds prosper in a vegetable patch.'
'What does that mean?'
'It means that you were a psychopathic killer - a man in love with death. Now I offer you the chance to see if you have changed. Put on the armour and ride with us against the forces of Chaos.'
'And learn to kill again?'
'That we shall see.'
'I don't want to kill. I wish to live among my plants.'
'Do you think I want to fight? I am nearing sixty years of age. I love the Source and all things that grow or move. I believe life is the greatest gift in all the Universe. But there is real evil in the world, and it must be fought. Overcome. Then others will have the opportunity to see the joy of life.'
'Don't say any more,' snapped Decado. 'Not another damned word!' Years of suppressed emotion roared through him, filling his senses, and forgotten anger lashed him with whips of fire. What a fool he had been - hiding from the world, grubbing in the soil like a sweating peasant!
He moved to a set of armour placed to the right of the rest and his hand reached down to curl round the ivory hilt. With one smooth movement he swept the blade into the air, his muscles pulsing with the thrill of the weapon. Its blade was silver steel and razor-sharp, and the balance was perfection.
Similar Books
