Part 18 (1/2)

Her smile faded and she stepped away from Nian.

'No questions, Nian,' said Jared softly. 'Remember?'

'I'm sorry, Garianne,' muttered Nian. Her smile returned briefly, and she seemed to relax.

'Old Uncle is coming. Maybe an hour. Maybe less,' she told them. Jared swung to Braygan.

'Old Uncle is a warrior named Druss.

You have heard the name?' Braygan shook his head. 'He is Drenai, and, like your friend, he is deadly. With Garianne and Druss we have more than a chance against any beasts.'

Skilgannon walked towards the swaying bank of reeds, his movements smooth and unhurried, scanning the stalks for any sign of movement not caused by the breeze. He was exactly as he seemed to those who watched him from the circle, relaxed and strolling, his swords sheathed.

Malanek had called it the illusion of elsewhere; where the mind floats free and surrenders control of the body to the instincts and the senses. As he walked Skilgannon allowed his thoughts to roam far, even as his eyes watched for danger.

He thought of Malanek, and the tortuous training, the endless exercises and the harsh regime of physical stress. He remembered Greavas and Sperian, and the increasing tension of the days after Bokram's coronation. Arrests were sudden. Houses were raided, the occupants dragged away. No-one spoke of the departed. Known followers of the dead Emperor disappeared, or were publicly executed in Leopard Square.

Fear descended on the capital. People watched each other with suspicious eyes, never knowing who might inform on them for a hasty word, or a suggested criticism. Skilgannon worried about Greavas, and his connections to the royal family, and, indeed, the former actor often went missing for days before returning without a word as to his previous whereabouts. Skilgannon asked him one evening where he had been. Greavas sighed. 'Best you don't know, my friend,' was all he would say.

One night, around three weeks after the coronation, armed soldiers arrived at the house.

Molaire was beside herself with fear, and even the normally resolute Sperian was ashen and afraid. Skilgannon was sitting in the garden when the officer marched out. It was the golden-haired former athlete, Boranius. Skilgannon rose from his chair. 'Good to see you,'

he said, and meant it.

'And you,' answered Boranius coolly. 'However, I am here on official business.'

'I shall have refreshments served for you,' said Skilgannon, gesturing towards the pale- faced Sperian. The man gratefully withdrew. Skilgannon glanced at the two soldiers standing in the garden doorway. 'Please make yourselves comfortable,' he told them.

'There are chairs for all.'

'My men will stand,' said Boranius, lifting his scabbard, and seating himself on a wicker chair. He still looked every inch the athlete Skilgannon had so admired.

'Do you still run, Boranius?'

'No, I have little time for such pursuits. You?'

Skilgannon laughed. 'I do, but it is not the fun it was, for I have no-one to test me. You were my inspiration. You set the standard.'

'And you beat me.'

'You had an injured ankle, Boranius. However, I did enjoy getting the medal.'

'The days of school medals are behind me now - and you too soon. Have you considered your future?'

'I shall be a soldier like my father.'

'That is pleasing to hear. We need good soldiers. Loyal soldiers.' The blond officer leaned back in his chair. 'These are difficult times, Olek. There are traitors everywhere. They must be hunted down and exterminated. Do you know any traitors?'

'How would I recognize them, Boranius? Do they wear odd hats?'

'This is not a subject for jests, Olek. Even now someone is sheltering the Emperor's concubine and her b.a.s.t.a.r.d daughter. Bokram is king by right and by blood. Those who speak or act against him are traitors.'

'I have heard no-one speak against him,' said Skilgannon. There was a tightness around Boranius's blue eyes, and the man seemed constantly on edge.

'What about the pervert who lives here? Is he loyal?'

Skilgannon felt a coldness settle in his belly. 'You are a guest in my home, Boranius. Do not speak ill of any of my friends.'

'I am not a guest, Olek. I am an officer of the King. Have you heard Greavas speak against the King?'

'No, I have not. We do not discuss matters of politics.'

'I need to question him. Is he here?'

'No.'

Sperian returned carrying a tray of drinks, the mixed juices of apple and apricot in silver goblets. Skilgannon glanced up at him. 'Where is Greavas?' he asked.

'He is visiting friends, sir, in the north of the city.'

'When will he be returning?'

'Tomorrow, perhaps, or the next day, sir. He did not say.'

Skilgannon thanked the man and waved him away. 'I shall tell him you need to speak with him when he returns,' he said, 'though I fail to see how a retired actor could be of help to you.'

'We shall see,' said Boranius, rising. 'There is also a warrant for the arrest of your friend, Askelus.'

Now Skilgannon was truly shocked. 'Why?'

'Like his father he is also a traitor. His father was disembowelled this morning in Leopard Square.'

'Askelus is no traitor,' said Skilgannon, also rising. 'We have spoken often. He is a huge admirer of the Emperor Gorben, and he has talked, like me, of serving in Bokram's army.

Not once have I heard him say a word of criticism against the King. Quite the reverse, in fact.'

'Then - sadly - he will perish for the sins of his father,' said Boranius coldly.

Skilgannon had stared then at the young man who had been his hero. The young athlete of his memory disappeared. In his place stood a cold-eyed soldier, bereft of emotion, save perhaps malice. Memories flooded Skilgannon then, moments that had seemed insignificant at the time, but now shone bright in the glow of sudden understanding. The casual discarding of friends.h.i.+ps, the sarcastic comments, the meanness of spirit.

Skilgannon had seen Boranius through the golden gaze of hero wors.h.i.+p. Now here was the reality. Boranius held the power of life and death, and he revelled in it. Anger swelled in Skilgannon's heart, but he quelled it, and smiled. 'I have much to learn, my friend,' he said.

'I thank you for taking the time to visit me.'

Boranius chuckled then and slapped Skilgannon on the shoulder. 'When you have your final papers - a.s.suming they are Firsts -come and see me. I will find a place for you in my regiment.'