Free Drenai Series 08 - Winter Warriors by David Gemmell Page A

whispered. 'But the deed was not without merit.'
    Skanda handed him the Silver Arrow, and Kebra waited until the celebrations had died down. The Ventrians lowered Dirais and the small archer stepped up and bowed deeply before Kebra. 'This is a day I shall remember all my life,' he said.
    'As shall I,' Kebra told him, presenting the arrow. The little man bowed again.
    'I am sorry your eyes let you down.' Kebra nodded and swung away.
    No-one approached him as he stalked from the meadow.
*
    Stunned and disbelieving Bison watched him go. 'Why did he do that?' he asked, dabbing at his wounded cheek with a blood-soaked cloth.
    'He is a man of honour,' said Nogusta. 'Come, it is time that wound was stitched.'
    'What has honour to do with paying my debts?'
    'I fear it would take too long to explain,' the black man told him. Taking him by the arm he led the bewildered Bison to a medical tent. Nogusta borrowed a sickle shaped needle and a length of thread and carefully drew the folds of the cheek wound together. Altogether ten stitches were needed. Blood slowly seeped between them. The cuts above Bison's eyes were shallow, and needed no stitches. Already scabs were forming there and the trickle of blood had ceased.
    'He really let me down,' grumbled Bison. 'He let us all down.' Dagorian, who had stood by in silence moved alongside the giant.
    'You are not being fair on him,' he said, softly. 'It was an act of greatness. The Ventrian was being barracked and jeered. And someone did release that dove in order to throw his aim.'
    'Of course he did,' said Bison. 'I paid him to do it.'
    Dagorian's expression changed, becoming cold. 'You make me ashamed to be a Drenai,' he said. Turning away Dagorian left the two warriors.
    'What's wrong with him?' enquired Bison. 'Has the world gone mad?'
    'You are an idiot sometimes, my friend,' said Nogusta. 'Perhaps you should go back to the barracks and rest.'
    'No. I want to see Kalizkan's magic. There might be a dragon.'
    'You could ask him,' said Nogusta, pointing to a section of open lands between the tents. The silver garbed wizard was sitting on a bench, surrounded by children.
    'I don't think so,' said Bison, doubtfully. 'I don't like wizards much. I think I'll collect my winnings and get drunk.'
    'What about your debts?'
    Bison laughed. 'We're leaving next week. They'll never follow me back to Drenan.'
    'Is the word honour just a sound to you?' asked Nogusta. 'You have built up credit on trust. You gave your word to repay. Now you will become a thief whose word cannot be trusted.'
    'What's put you in such a foul mood?' asked Bison.
    'You would not understand if I carved the answer on your simian forehead,' snapped the black man. 'Go and get drunk. A man should always stick to what he does best.' Leaving Bison he walked across the meadow, threading his way through the crowd.
    Antikas Karios approached him as he passed the king's pavilion. The swordsman gave a thin smile. 'Good morning to you,' he said. 'That was a clever trick you used against Cerez. I had warned him in the past about arrogance. I will not have to warn him again.'
    Nogusta was about to move on, but the Ventrian stepped into his path. 'The king would like you to entertain his guests before the races.' Nogusta nodded and followed the officer towards the front of the pavilion. Skanda saw him coming and gave a broad smile, then turned to say something to Malikada. Nogusta approached the king and gave a deep bow. 'My congratulations on your birthday, sire,' he said.
    Skanda leaned forward. 'I have told Prince Malikada of your skill with knives. I fear he doubts my word.'
    'Not at all, majesty,' said Malikada, smoothly. Skanda clapped him on the shoulder, then rose. 'What can you show us today, my friend?' he asked Nogusta. The black man called for one of the archery targets to be brought up. While this was being done a sizeable crowd began to gather. Nogusta removed five throwing knives from the sheaths stitched to his baldric, then