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Legend - David Gemmell
- Дата:20.06.2024
- Категория: Разная литература / Прочее
- Название: Legend
- Автор: David Gemmell
- Просмотров:0
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Описание онлайн-книги Legend - David Gemmell:
Druss, Captain of the Axe, was the stuff of legends. But even as the stories grew in the telling, Druss himself grew older. He turned his back on his own legend and retreated to a mountain lair to await his old enemy, death. Meanwhile, barbarian hordes were on the march. Nothing could stand in their way. Druss reluctantly agreed to come out of retirement. But could even Druss live up to his own legends?
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"What happened?" asked Rek.
The prince Serbitar and his friend the Abbot came to see me on the day she died. The Abbot had had a dream, he said. He would not explain it to me, but he said it was vital that my lady's body be placed within the crystal. He said something about the Source… I didn't understand it. I still don't, my lord. Is she alive or dead? And how did you find her? We laid her upon this crystal block and she gently sank into it. Yet when I touched it, it was solid. I understand nothing any more." Tears welled in the old man's eyes and Rek moved to him, placing a hand on his bony shoulder.
"It is all hard to explain. Fetch Calvar Syn. I will wait here with Virae."
A dream of Vintar's — what could it mean? The albino had said there were many tomorrows and that no one could ever tell which would come to pass. But he had obviously seen one in which Virae lived and had ordered her body to be preserved. And somehow the wound had been healed inside the crystal. But did that mean she would live?
Virae alive!
His mind reeled. He could neither think nor feel and his body seemed numb. Her death had all but destroyed him, yet now, with her here once more, he was afraid to hope. If life had taught him anything, it had shown him that every man has a breaking point. He knew he was now facing his. He sat by the bed and lifted her cold hand, his own hand shaking with tension, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Crossing the room, he fetched another blanket and covered her, then went to work building a fire in the hearth.
It was nearly an hour before he heard Calvar Syn on the stairs outside. The man was cursing Arshin loudly. Wearing a stained blue tunic and a blood-covered leather apron, the surgeon stepped into the room.
"What fool nonsense is this, Earl?" he thundered. "I have men who are dying for want of my skills? What…" He stammered to silence as he saw the girl in the bed. "So, the old man was not lying. Why, Rek? Why have you brought her body back?"
"I don't know. Truly. Serbitar came to me in a dream and told me he had left a gift for me. This is what I found. I don't know what's happening — is she dead?"
"Of course, she's dead. The arrow pierced her lung."
"Look at her, will you? There's no wound."
The surgeon pulled back the sheet and lifted her wrist. For several moments he stood in silence. "There is a pulse," he whispered, "but it is faint — and very, very slow. I cannot wait with you — there are men dying. But I will return in the morning. Keep her warm, that's all you can do."
Rek sat beside the bed, holding her hand. Sometime, though he knew not when, he fell asleep beside her. The dawn broke bright and clear and the rising sun's light entered the eastern window, bathing the bed in golden light. At its touch Virae's cheeks gained colour and her breathing deepened. A soft moan came from her lips and Rek was instantly awake.
"Virae? Virae, can you hear me?" Her eyes opened, then closed again, her lashes fluttering.
"Virae!" Once more her eyes opened, and she smiled.
"Serbitar brought me back," she said. "So tired… Must sleep." She turned over, hugged the pillow and fell asleep, just as the door opened and Bowman stepped inside.
"Gods, it's true then," he said.
Rek ushered him from the room into the corridor.
"Yes. Somehow Serbitar saved her, I cannot explain it. I don't even care how it happened. What is going on outside?"
"They've gone! All of them — every damned one of them, old horse. The camp is deserted; Orrin and I have been there. All that's left is a Wolfshead standard and the body of that Burgher Bricklyn. Can you make any sense out of it?"
"No," said Rek. "That standard means that Ulric will return. The body? I can't say. I sent him to them — he was a traitor and obviously they had no more use for him."
A young officer came running up the spiral stairs. "My lord! There is a Nadir rider waiting at Eldibar."
Rek and Bowman walked together to Wall One. Below them on a grey steppe pony sat Ulric, Lord of the Nadir, dressed in fur-rimmed helmet, woollen jerkin and goatskin boots. He looked up as Rek leaned over the ramparts. "You fought well, Earl of Bronze," he shouted. "I came to bid you farewell. There is civil war in my own kingdom and I must leave you for a while. I wanted you to know that I shall return."
"I will be here," said Rek "And next time your reception will be even warmer. Tell me, why did your men retire when we were beaten?"
"Do you believe in fate?" asked Ulric.
"I do."
"Then let us call it a trick of fate. Or perhaps it was a cosmic jest, a joke played by the gods. I care not. You are a brave man. Your men are brave men. And you have won. I can live with that, Earl of Bronze — a poor man would I be if I could not. But for now, farewell! I shall see you again in the Spring."
Ulric waved, turned his pony's head and galloped off into the north.
"Do you know," said Bowman, "although it may sound grotesque, I think I like the man."
"Today I could like anybody," said Rek, smiling. "The sky is clear, the wind is fresh and life tastes very fine. What will you do now?"
"I think I will become a monk and devote my entire life to prayer and good works."
"No," said Rek. "I mean, what will you do today?"
"Ah! Today I'll get drunk and go whoring," said Bowman.
Throughout the long day Rek periodically visited the sleeping Virae. Her colour was good, her breathing deep and even. Late in the evening, as he sat alone in the small hall before a dying fire, she came to him, dressed in a light green woollen tunic. He stood and took her into his arms, kissed her, then sat down in the leather chair and pulled her to his lap.
"The Nadir have really gone?" she asked.
"They have indeed."
"Rek, did I truly die? It seems like a dream now. Hazy. I seem to remember Serbitar bringing me back, and my body lay in a glass block beneath the Keep."
"It was not a dream," said Rek. "Do you remember coming to me as I fought a giant worm and a huge spider?"
"Vaguely. But it's fading even as I remember it."
"Don't worry about it. I will tell you everything during the next fifty years or so."
"Only fifty years?" she said. "So you will desert me when I'm old and grey?"
The sound of laughter echoed through the Keep.
Epilogue
Ulric never returned to Dros Delnoch. After defeating Jahingir in a pitched battle at Gulgothir Plain, he took his army to invade Ventria, but collapsed from the flux and died. The tribes fled back to the north, and without his influence Nadir unity was broken. Civil war came once more to the north, and the people of the rich southlands breathed again.
Rek was welcomed as a hero in Drenan, but soon tired of the city life and returned with Virae to Delnoch. Their family grew over the years, with three sons and two daughters. The sons were Hogun, Orrin and Horeb. The daughters were Susay and Besa. Grandfather Horeb brought his family fiom Drenan to Delnoch, taking over the inn of the traitor Musar.
Orrin returned to Drenan and resigned from the army. His uncle Abalayn retired from public life and Magnus Woundweaver was elected to lead the Council. He chose Orrin as his deputy.
Bowman remained at Delnoch for a year, then travelled to Ventria to fight the Nadir once more. He did not return.
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