'Nothing,' replied Meng. 'No sign of gajin or Chop-backs.'
'When is the next change of watch?'
'When the moon touches the tallest peak.'
Druss glanced up. That would be soon. Leaving the boy, he strolled out once more, his unease growing. They should have camped within the rocks, and to Hell with fears of demons! A rider came into sight; he waved at Meng and then cantered into the camp. Minutes later his replacement rode out. Another rider came in, then another. Druss waited for some time, then returned to the boy. 'Were not four sent out?'
'Yes. I expect Jodai is sleeping somewhere. My uncle will not be pleased.'
The breeze shifted. Druss's head came up and he sniffed the air. Grabbing the boy by his shoulder, he hauled him to his feet. 'Wake your uncle, now! Tell him to get everyone back into the rocks.'
'Take your hand off me!' Feebly the boy lashed out but Druss dragged him in close. 'Listen to me, boy, death is coming! You understand? There may be no time left. So run as if your life depended on it, for it probably does.'
Meng turned and sprinted back towards the camp. Druss, axe in hand, stared out at the seemingly empty steppes. Then he too turned and loped back to the camp. Nuang was already moving as Druss ducked under the wind-break. Women were hastily gathering blankets and food, and shushing the children into silence. Nuang ran to Druss. 'What have you seen?' he asked.
'Not seen, smelt. Thickened goose-grease. The Lancers use it to protect the leather on their mounts, and also to prevent rust on their chain-mail. They have hidden their horses, and they are close.'
Nuang swore and moved away. As Sieben emerged from a tent, looping his knife baldric over his shoulder, Druss waved to him, pointing to the rocks some hundred paces away. Leaving their tents, the Nadir opened a gap in the wind-breaks and ran across the open ground. Druss saw the remaining warriors leading the ponies into a deep cleft in the rocks. Taking up the rear he moved behind the column. A running woman fell and Druss helped her to her feet. She was carrying a baby, and also holding the hand of a toddler. Druss swept the boy into his arms and ran on. There were only a handful of Nadir women still short of the rocks when fifty Lancers emerged from a nearby gully. On foot they charged, blades bright in the moonlight.
Passing the toddler to his terrified mother, Druss hefted Snaga and turned to face the advancing soldiers. Several of the Nadir warriors had scrambled high in the rocks and they sent black-shafted arrows into the enemy. But the Gothir Lancers were well armoured, with breastplates, chain-mail and full-faced helms. Each carried a round buckler strapped to his left forearm. Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly clear, save for one which took a man deep in the thigh. He stumbled and fell, his white horsehair-plumed helmet falling clear. 'Shoot low!' yelled Druss.
The entrance to the rocks was narrow and Druss backed into it. The first three Lancers ran in to the cleft and with a roar he leapt to meet them, smashing Snaga through the helm of the first, and killing the second with a reverse cut that smashed his hip and tore open his belly. The third tried to bring his sabre to bear, but the blade bounced from Druss's black helm.
Snaga sang out, thundering against the man's chain-mail neck-guard. The mail was well made, and prevented the blades from reaching the skin, but the sheer weight of the blow drove the links against the man's neck, smashing his spine to shards. More soldiers ran in. The first tried to block the sweep of the axe with his iron-reinforced wooden buckler, but the silver blades sliced it cleanly, half severing the arm beneath. With a scream of pain the man fell, tripping two men behind him. The narrow opening would allow only three to attack at any one time, and the rest of the Lancers milled behind the entrance. From above, the Nadir hurled rocks down upon them and sent shafts into unprotected legs.
Druss hacked and cut, the mighty axe drenched in blood. .
And the Lancers fell back. A man groaned at Druss's feet; it was the soldier with the half-severed arm. Kneeling, Druss dragged the soldier's helm clear and seized the wounded man's hair. 'How many in your force?' asked the axeman. 'Speak and you live, for I'll let you go back to your friends.'
'Two companies. I swear it!'
'Get up and run, for I cannot answer for the archers above.'
The man stumbled out into the open, and began to run. Two arrows bounced from his breastplate, a third nailing home into the back of his thigh. Gamely he limped on, and managed to reach his comrades.
Two companies. . fifty men. Druss glanced down at the bodies he could see. Seven were dead by his axe, several more had been struck by shafts and would not fight again. That still left around forty — not enough to storm these rocks, but enough to pin them down until a second force could be sent for.
Three young Nadir climbed down to where he stood and began to strip the dead of armour and weapons. Nuang clambered down also. 'You think they will pull back?'
Druss shook his head. 'They will look for another way in. We must get further back into the rocks, otherwise they'll find a way to get behind us. How many were in the group that attacked you on the marches?'
'No more than a hundred.'
'Then the question remains: Where are the other two companies?'
Suddenly the Lancers charged again. The Nadir youngsters ran back and Druss stepped forward. 'Come in and die, you whoresons!' he bellowed, his voice booming and echoing in the rocks. The first of the Lancers sent his sabre in a hissing arc towards Druss's throat, but Snaga flashed up to shatter the blade. The soldier hurled himself back, cannoning into two of his comrades. As Druss leapt at them, they turned and fled.
Nuang, sword in hand, appeared alongside Druss. Flames leapt up from the Nadir camp and Nuang cursed, but Druss chuckled. 'Tents can be replaced, old man. It seems to me that your luck has changed for the better.'
'Oh, yes,' said Nuang bitterly. 'I leap with joy at this change of fortune!'
Niobe lay on her stomach, staring down into the narrow cleft of black, basaltic rock. 'Your friend is a very great fighter,' she said, pushing her raven hair back from her face.
Sieben hunkered down beside her. 'That is his talent,' he admitted, annoyed at her admiring tone and the way her dark, almond-shaped eyes were focused on the axeman below.
'Why did you not fight alongside him, po-et?'
'My dear, when Druss starts swinging that dreadful axe the last place you want to be is beside him. Anyway, Druss always likes the odds to be against him. Brings out the best in him, you know.'
Niobe rolled to her elbow and gazed into his eyes. 'Why is it you are no longer frightened, po-et? When we ran in here you were trembling.'
'I don't like violence,' he admitted, 'especially when it is directed towards me. But they won't follow us in here. They are Lancers, heavily armoured; they are trained for cavalry charges on open ground. Their boots are metal-reinforced and high-heeled to keep the feet in the stirrups. They are entirely unsuited to scrambling over volcanic rock. No, they will pull back now, and try to catch us in the open. Therefore, for the moment, we are safe.'
She shook her head. 'No-one is safe here,' she told him. 'Look around you, po-et. These black rocks are part of the Towers of the Damned. Evil dwells here. Even now there may be demons creeping towards us!'
Sieben shivered, but even in the fading moonlight he could see the amused gleam in her eyes. 'You don't believe that for a moment,' he said.