‘I am about to drink a potion,’ he said. ‘If it kills me then I want the bitch cut into pieces. Her suffering should be long.’
The riders glanced at one another and looked nervous. Jianna leaned forward. ‘They don’t want to embarrass themselves, Abadai, but they would be happier if you called in more men. However, that will not be necessary.’ She lifted her sabre and tossed it to one of the warriors. Abadai shook his head and suddenly chuckled.
‘I am beginning to like you very much,’ he told her, his gaze resting on her long legs.
‘I have that effect on men,’ she said.
Abadai took the purple bottle, broke the seal, and drank the contents in a single swallow. Then he sat very still watching her. ‘I feel nothing,’ he said.
‘You will, warrior. Now here is the second part of my promise.’ Delving once more into the bag she produced a heavy pouch, tossing it to the leader. He tipped the contents into his palm. Gold coins tumbled from his fingers. The other two warriors scrambled forward to get a closer look at the treasure.
Abadai waved them back. He looked at her now with different eyes.
‘This is the kind of promise I can understand,’ he said. ‘What is it for?’
‘I need an army. Not too large. Perhaps two hundred good fighting men, a few archers.’
Abadai took a deep breath, then levered himself to his feet. Stretching out his arms he clenched his fists. Jianna looked at him. The deep lines on his face were softening, the iron grey of his hair growing darker. ‘I feel. . strong,’ he said. Jianna, who had only heard from Landis about the power of the potion, was almost as surprised as the warlord. The effect was startling. Masking her surprise, she glanced at the two warriors. They were standing open-mouthed.
Abadai waved them away. As they left the tent he sat down once more. ‘You have been true to your word, girl. Where do you come from?’
‘The Temple of the Resurrection.’
His eyes widened, and he was about to reply when he stopped and laughed. ‘I was about to say it was a myth. But I am here, younger and stronger. How young do I look?’ he asked suddenly.
‘You have lost at least ten years,’ she said. ‘I will supply fifty more gold coins before the fight, and fifty after we win. How many men do you have?’
‘Sixty or so. There were more.’ He shrugged. ‘This has been a bad year. Two bands struck out on their own.’
‘You know where they are?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then send for them. When they are gathered show them the gold. I will supply you with one extra coin for every man. This needs to be accomplished with speed, Abadai. The force we are facing will be in the mountains within the week.’
‘And they are?’
‘Mercenaries — much like you yourself. They are led by a former priest of the Resurrection, and will be travelling down from the city of Gassima.’
‘How many men does this priest have?’
She shrugged and spread her hands. ‘I would think no more than a few hundred. Perhaps less. All plunder from the bodies will belong to you, and all horses taken.’
Drawing in a deep breath he stared at her with undisguised longing. ‘You fire my blood, girl. Share my bed and we will spit hands on the agreement.’
Jianna laughed. ‘After we win, Abadai, I will come to you. You will need the extra youth and vitality I have given you. And perhaps more.’ Rising from the rug she gathered up her saddlebag, slinging it over her shoulder. ‘When you have the men assembled, ride west until you see the hanging rock. You know where I mean?’
‘Of course I know. Close to the old oasis.’
‘The very same. I will join you there.’
‘You were right,’ he said, as she reached the tent flap. Jianna glanced back. ‘He was my idiot brother.
I came close to killing him myself a couple of times.’
The battle with the priest’s force had been short, bloody and decisive. Unfortunately the man had escaped with a handful of riders. But most of his three hundred mercenaries lay dead on the desert floor.
Abadai and his warriors had rushed round the battlefield, butchering wounded survivors and stripping them of rings, trinkets, clothes and boots.
That night, as she had promised, she spent with the bandit leader. His lovemaking was fierce and urgent, lacking finesse and subtlety. Yet it was sublime when compared to the fumbling adoration of Landis Kan.
And so had begun the journey that would culminate in empire. Fearing the renegade would return with a larger force the temple priests had authorized Jianna to gather an army. With this she had marched to Gassima and sacked the city. Once more the priest escaped, heading south. Jianna pursued him. The priest sought refuge with a bandit warlord in the Sathuli mountains. Jianna gathered more fighters, and crushed his army also. As her fame grew her force swelled. She had become a power in the land. By the time the priest was caught and killed he had become incidental to the greater purpose. The day of the Eternal had dawned.
The wine jug was empty. Jianna called out to her guards, ordering them to bring her another. Agrippon himself brought it. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘where is Agrias?’
‘He had strangled himself with the cord of his robe, Highness.’
‘The idiot. He always had a poor sense of timing,’ she said. ‘Send for Unwallis.’
Alone once more, she allowed the memories of the years to slide before her mind’s eye. As the army grew larger it became increasingly necessary to widen the scope of its activities. More and more towns and cities came under her sway. Until, at last, even the fading empire of the Drenai fell before her, their ambassadors bending the knee, pledging allegiance. She had transferred the seat of her power to Diranan, taking Landis Kan and Agrias, and many of the priests, and their artefacts of power, with her.
There had been many insurrections, a score of small wars. Yet always her empire swelled. As she grew older, and even the power of the restorative potions began to lose its magic, Landis Kan had suggested repeating the process by which they had brought her back: raising duplicates of herself.
Was that when I became evil, she wondered? Anger flared. You are seeing yourself through Skilgannon’s eyes, she chided herself.
Or perhaps through the eyes of the last abbot, she realized. She had returned to the temple with Landis, seeking more artefacts. Landis wanted to study in the great library. The abbot had come down, she thought, to greet them. Instead he stood in the great doorway and refused them leave to enter. Jianna had been shocked.
‘You have corrupted this temple,’ he said. ‘You have made a mockery of everything we have worked for over the centuries. You have built an empire of evil, and seduced once good men like Landis to follow in your footsteps. You will not enter here, Jianna.’
Before she could answer he had stepped back inside, and the doors swung shut. Furious, Jianna had ridden, with her fifty Eternals, to the closest garrison. Gathering several hundred men she had returned -
only to find the temple gone. Two riders rode over the rim of the crater that remained. They died horribly, the metal of their armour twisting around them, tearing into their flesh.
The arrival of Unwallis brought her thoughts back to the present. The statesman was dishevelled, his eyes heavy with sleep. ‘Is there a problem, Highness?’ he asked.
‘I felt in need of the company of a friend,’ she said. ‘Be at ease, I do not intend to seduce you. Just sit with me.’
‘What has happened?’ he asked.
‘I saw Skilgannon. And now I must kill him.’ She laughed then. ‘It is curious, Unwallis, but a part of me wants to be at his side, fighting the good fight against the evil Eternal. How foolish is that?’
‘A part of you is doing just that,’ he said.
‘An interesting riddle. Perhaps you would explain.’
‘I might be wrong, Highness, but did you not send the Legend Riders to him?’
She looked at him closely, then shook her head and smiled. ‘I always forget how clever you are, my dear. But this is your crowning moment. How could you possibly know that? Did Memnon tell you?’
‘No, Highness. I knew that you and Kilvanen had found the Armour of Bronze. It seemed rather too coincidental that a wandering Drenai rider should discover the site.’
‘And what conclusions do you draw?’ she asked him.