Drenai Saga 02 - The King Beyond the Gate Read Free Page B

elongated, sharp fangs lining its maw. The pounding grew louder, and Scaler took a deep breath.
    “Go and see what the noise is about,” he told the beast.
    “Who you?” it hissed, the words mangled by the lolling tongue.
    “Don’t just stand there—go and see what they want,” Scaler ordered sharply.
    The beast brushed past him, and other Joinings came into the corridor and followed it, ignoring Scaler. He ran to the gate and slipped the key in the lock. As it turned and the gate swung open, a sudden bellowing roar blasted in the confines of the corridor. Scaler twisted round to see the Joinings running toward him, howling ferociously. With shaking fingers he dragged free the key and leapt through the opening, pulling the gate shut behind him and swiftly locking it.
    The night air was crisp as he ran up the short steps to the western courtyard and on to the ornate wall, scaling it swiftly and dropping into the cobbled street beyond.
    It was well after curfew, so he hugged the shadows all the way to the inn, then climbed the outer trellis to his room, rapping on the shutters.
    Belder opened the window and helped him inside.
    “Well?” asked the old soldier.
    “I got the jewels,” stated Scaler.
    “I despair of you,” said Belder. “After all the years I spend on you, what do you become? A thief!”
    “It’s in the blood,” said Scaler, grinning. “Remember the Earl of Bronze?”
    “That’s legend,” replied Belder. “And even if it’s true, not one of his descendants has ever lived a less than honorable life. Even that Nadir spawn Tenaka!”
    “Don’t speak ill of him, Belder,” Scaler said softly. “He was my friend.”

2
    T enaka slept, and the familiar dreams returned to haunt him.
    The steppes rolled away from him like a green, frozen ocean, all the way to the end of the world. His pony reared as he dragged the rawhide rein, then swung to the south with hooves drumming the hard-packed clay.
    With the dry wind in his face Tenaka grinned.
    Here, only here, was he his own man.
    Half-Nadir, half-Drenai, wholly nothing—a product of war, a flesh and blood symbol of uneasy peace. He was accepted among the tribes with cool courtesy, as befitted one in whose veins ran the blood of Ulric. But there was little camaraderie. Twice the tribes had been turned back by the strength of the Drenai. Once, long before, the legendary Earl of Bronze had defended Dros Delnoch against Ulric’s hordes. Twenty years ago the Dragon had decimated Jongir’s army.
    Now here was Tenaka, a living reminder of defeat.
    So he rode alone and mastered all the tasks they set him. Sword, bow, spear, ax—with each of those he was skilled beyond his peers, for when they ceased practice to enjoy the games of childhood, he worked on. He listened to the wise—seeing wars and battles on a different plane—and his sharp mind absorbed the lessons.
    One day they would accept him. If he had patience.
    But he had ridden home to the city of tents and seen his mother standing with Jongir. She was crying.
    And he knew.
    He leapt from the saddle and bowed to the khan, ignoring his mother, as was fitting.
    “It is time for you to go home,” said Jongir.
    He said nothing, merely nodded.
    “They have a place for you within the Dragon. It is your right as the son of an earl.” The khan seemed uncomfortable and did not meet Tenaka’s steady gaze. “Well, say something,” he snapped.
    “As you wish, lord, so let it be.”
    “You will not plead to stay?”
    “If you desire me to.”
    “I desire nothing of you.”
    “Then when shall I leave?”
    “Tomorrow. You will have an escort: twenty riders, as befits my grandson.”
    “You honor me, lord.”
    The khan nodded, glanced once at Shillat, and then walked away. Shillat opened the tent flap, and Tenaka entered their home. She followed him, and once inside, he turned to her and took her in his arms.
    “Oh, Tani,” she whispered through her tears. “What more must you do?”
    “Maybe