By David Gemmell
Druss, Captain of the awl: the tales of his existence have been instructed far and wide. rather than the wealth and status he can have claimed, he had selected a mountain lair, excessive within the lonely nation bordering at the clouds. There the grizzled previous warrior saved corporation with snow leopards and awaited his previous enemy death.
Mighty Dros Delnoch, secure via six outer partitions, the one path wherein a military may possibly go through the mountains. It was once the stronghold of the Drenai empire. And now it used to be the final battleground, for all else had fallen prior to the Nadir hordes.
And wish rested at the talents of that one outdated man...
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Extra resources for Legend (Drenai, Book 1)
His lord's rage ebbing, but slowly, trickling down like the rain. Blood leaked from a sword wound in Anomander's left shoul¬der. And there had been a look in his eyes . , Endest sighed as he worked his way up the street's slope, but it was an uneven, harsh sigh. Off to his left was the heaped rubble of the old palace. A few jagged walls rose here and there, and crews had carved paths into the mass of wreckage, salvaging stone and the occasional timber that had not burned. The deafening col¬lapse of that edifice still shivered in Endest's bones, and he slowed in his climb, one hand reaching Out to lean against a wall.
Facing the crystal window that ran the entire length of the Nightwater wall, his long silver-white hair faintly luminous in the muted, refracted light cast into the room by the faceted quartz. The sword Dragnipur was nowhere in sight. Three steps into the chamber and Spinnock halted. ' 'You won again, Lord. ' Spinnock smiled wryly. 'When all else seems lost. ' Perhaps Anomander Rake nodded at that, or his gaze, fixed somewhere out on the waves of Nightwater, shifted downward to something closer by.
Am I not the last one left to share with my lord that memory! The pressure slowly eased. And once again, he had survived the embrace. And the next time? There was no telling, but he did not believe he could last much longer. The pain clutching his chest, the thunder in his skull. We have found a new supply of cadaver eels. That is what I will tell him. And he will smile and nod, and perhaps settle one hand on my shoulder. A gentle, cautious squeeze, light enough to ensure that nothing breaks. He will speak his gratitude.